Air France Flight 447: A tragic warning

I've traveled more than 5 million miles by air -- far enough to get to the moon and back 10 times -- but I still get a sense of amazement when I'm in a fully laden 747 and we lift off. A million pounds of metal traveling at more than 200 mph, countering the force of gravity. It's a minor miracle.

Which is why it is so shocking when planes fall from the sky, as happened Monday with Air France Flight 447 from Rio de Janeiro to Paris, with a loss of 228 passengers and crew.

Reading about this, even a seasoned air traveler would be forgiven a twinge of anxiety. There is something unnatural about flight. Humans are nomads, evolving to walk across the savanna and forage for food and shelter. Driving is an accelerated mechanical version in which we still maintain indirect contact with the ground and see the landscape change in a familiar way. But to be in a sleek aluminum canister, six miles up and traveling at 80% of the speed of sound into blackness and near vacuum -- now that is unsettling.

All frequent fliers have stories to tell. I remember flying up the spine of the Andes one night from Santiago, Chile. There wasn't a cloud in the sky, but the 747 was tossed for an hour like a child's toy by clear-air turbulence. I imagined the flight crew up front, exchanging grim smiles as they wrestled with the controls.

Another time, on a night flight into Buenos Aires, we had to approach in a fierce electrical storm. The pilot announced that we might be diverted, but a while later, he said that we didn't have enough fuel to go to another airport. The message was clear: We had to land at Buenos Aires. This time it was the passengers who exchanged grim smiles.

Sometimes it's better not to know. Flying Pan Am a few years before it went out of business, I marveled at a landing at JFK, so smooth that the wheels started spinning and the shocks took the weight without anyone realizing we were down.

A little later, I found myself sitting next to the pilot in the waiting area. He was a tanned veteran, a silver fox, exuding experience and confidence. He talked about the principles of flight, and as I listened to his explanations, I realized he didn't understand Newton's laws or Bernoulli's principle. He didn't know how his plane flew!