I flew enough as a child and then with my first job to be comfortable with flying. Never really considered fear. Then I took a flight back from Vegas to NYC and it ended up in an emergency state as both hydraulic systems were lost on takeoff [1]. It was fascinating to experience fear creep into the physical environment. Fear of the unknown as we all heard the obviously-bad noise during takeoff. You could tell we were flying in circles above the desert.

The crew did not communicate anything for a long time, so imaginations took over. That was the worst part, the inciting incident.

Then one passenger started freaking out. Then another. It snowballed so quickly. Crying, screaming, drinking, trying to call loved ones. The college-aged girl in front of me was in tears and the older man next to her held her as if he were her father. My buddy seated next to me had a full panic attack, drenched in sweat. Bottles of prescription pills were passed around from row to row.

The stench of vomit was unavoidable. Flying in turbulent skies for hours didn't help the situation.

About 4-5 hours later we made an emergency landing - one of those in which we were instructed to lean all the way forward with our head on our arms. The landing was relatively smooth. Then I realized we were really far from the airport, on the outskirts of the runways, and a bunch of emergency fire and rescue vehicles were staged, waiting for us.

I've never seen so many people de-board a plane and sprint for the bar so fast.

Since then, I have a low level of anxiety when flying, mostly during the takeoff. My senses stay on guard in anticipation of hearing something go wrong. But it's not fear. I try not to allow that to happen.

[1] https://www.avweb.com/news/jetblue-flight-194-weve-lost-two-...