Raymond and I booked our flights today for our (belated) honeymoon in
the States early next year. We’ll spend
the first night in Los Angeles, a week in New York and then six days in San Francisco. It’s funny; I know that travelling in a plane
is statistically safer than travelling in a car, but, like when I flew
domestically in the States on September 11 2008, there is always that question
lingering in the back of my mind about safety.
Is this the safest destination?
History doesn’t appear to think so, not now that 9/11 is firmly lodged
in everyone’s psyche. And what about Malaysian
airline MH370? That plane still hadn’t
been found, so there is no definitive answer regarding weather terrorists had a
part to play in that event as well.
At times I wonder what it must have been like for those passengers on board
planes hijacked by terrorists on 9/11. How
long did it take for them to realise something was seriously wrong? What was it like for them when the plane
descended, angling straight towards a sky scraper? Was this enough to make them black-out before
the plane even made contact? Much like
their loved ones, the rest of the world and myself will never know.
Really, I don’t know what will happen in the future either, but I
continue to view the potential for a massive security breach through the filter
of remembering 9/11. It is funny how my
opinion has changed. When I was in high
school I used to fancy the idea of moving to the States to live. Thanks to pervasive media and the likes of
Hollywood, I saw it as a land that had so much more excitement and opportunity than
little New Zealand. Visiting there has
told me - in many way - it does, but I’m not so willing to give up my permanent home in New Zealand
now. Being so far away from a country like the US that is often hated upon by other nations at least makes me feel safer.
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