I was 35 years old when I stepped onto an airplane for the first time. When I tell people that, about half of them pop their eyes in disbelief. The other half shrug their shoulders and say something to the effect of, “Yeah…I get that.” I’ve been a rural Hoosier all my life. Everywhere I needed to go, the highway took me there. I almost flew in my early twenties, when I sent my résumé to open teaching jobs across the country. But none of the high schools I applied to from places such as Renton, Washington to Shelby, Montana offered me an interview. I wonder how different my relationship with the air would have been if I’d hit the skies then.
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My Relationship with Air Travel
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I was 35 years old when I stepped onto an airplane for the first time. When I tell people that, about half of them pop their eyes in disbelief. The other half shrug their shoulders and say something to the effect of, “Yeah…I get that.” I’ve been a rural Hoosier all my life. Everywhere I needed to go, the highway took me there. I almost flew in my early twenties, when I sent my résumé to open teaching jobs across the country. But none of the high schools I applied to from places such as Renton, Washington to Shelby, Montana offered me an interview. I wonder how different my relationship with the air would have been if I’d hit the skies then.