Nightmares at 20,000 Feet

About six years ago, in Iowa, after taking off in a puddle ­jumper during a tornado, I developed a sudden and debilitating fear of flying. I was seated across the aisle from a large farm boy in military fatigues who giggled with the first violent pitch. “Don’t worry,” he said, to no one in particular. “In these little planes you feel every bump.” Moments later, we were tossing like an aluminum can on an angry sea, and he reached over to grip my hand. I looked into his terrified eyes; his face was pale and glistening with sweat. “MA’AM,”…