Not Yet

After we published Mike’s thoughtful post about my Seeing Eye dog Whitney’s upcoming retirement, caring friends and family have been asking if I know what breed my next dog will be. Do I know the name of my next dog, Will they tell you if it’s going to be a male or female? Hearing myself answer “not yet” so many times got me to thinking. Might those two words work as a writing prompt? Yes! Had I assigned something similar before? Not yet.

Bill Gordon

Writer Bill Gordon said he knew what he’d write about the minute he heard the prompt. After hearing him read his piece out loud, I asked if I could share it here on our Safe & Sound blog. Lucky for us, he did not say, “not yet.” Here it is:

by Bill Gordon

It was the fall of 2000. I was at O’Hare, ready to board a plane to Denver and on to Aspen. I was the scheduled keynote speaker for the Colorado Library Association. Just before boarding started, I was called to the desk and upgraded to first class because there was a vacant seat and I was a frequent flyer.

While I was settling into my aisle seat, the fellow next to me asked me what I did. I said I was the Executive Director of the American Library Association and I was on my way to a library conference. “What do librarians have to talk about,” he scoffed. “And why an association? No one uses libraries anymore.”

Before I could respond, the captain introduced herself and welcomed us to the flight. My seat mate was outraged that we had a female pilot. “She should be serving coffee,” he said. “Not trying to fly a plane.” I said I always prefer female doctors, lawyers and pilots because I know they had to work harder and be better than their male counterparts. That ended, thankfully, any further possibility of conversation.

We settled in. The plane was cruising at 35,000 feet. Suddenly there was an ear-splitting explosion. The plane rolled on its side. Some overhead compartments flew open. The contents scattered. Loud screams. Crying. The plane rolled back but it felt as if it were standing still, then it fell about 3,000 feet. The oxygen masks dropped.

There was more screaming, and then an odd silence. The plane settled and was moving forward, but it was shaking like a carnival ride, and there was the noise of metal scraping against metal.

The captain announced that an engine had blown up and caused extensive damage to the plane’s controls. She said the plane could only turn to the left. She was going to turn the plane and land in Des Moines. She would let us know when to get into crash position. My seat mate was crying and whimpering, and because of the odor, I knew he had wet himself. I did not feel afraid; I just felt sad. Was this to be the end? I needed some time to tell people what I had never said.

Had I told my sister Shirley, the last of my siblings, how much she meant to me? Well, not yet. What about Jan? Had I told her how beautiful she is and how much her love means to me. Not yet. Have I told Carsten, my best friend, how much I treasure his friendship? Not yet.

What about Charles who was so special to me and who always had my back? And Mike, my hiking and white water rafting buddy, who snatched me from certain disaster. Did I ever tell Joyce, my former wife, that she was the smartest person I have ever known and my ten years with her were among the best of my life? And what about all those people with whom I worked who made my career so special? I needed time to clear up all those “NOT YETS” in my life.

The Captain announced that she was going to do her best to land the plane. We were to put our heads between our knees and our hands over our heads. The plane was vibrating so badly it felt as if it could come apart at any moment.

Suddenly, we were on the ground. The plane bucked, tipped, and shuddered, but finally came to a stop. I looked up. We had landed in fire retardant foam, surrounded by emergency vehicles. It was quickly determined that there was no fire. The plane could be towed to a gate.

The pilot emerged from the cockpit to a loud round of applause and screams of “Thank you.” First class passengers deplaned first. I was met by an airline attendant who re-scheduled me, and in less than an hour I was back on a plane on my way to Denver.

I can’t say this experience cured me of letting some “not yets” get in my way. It certainly made me appreciate every day and moment, however, and has, generally, made me quick to tell people how much they mean to me.