Gate B7 was a 727, which was a shorter walk and less work—and I love the 727. I flew it for 9,000 hours and sat in all three seats. For some reason, I walked the additional distance and got on 232, the DC-10. Why? That’s the question I’ll never know. It was meant to be. You pick the term that makes you comfortable: fate, chance, or luck.

I had choices. I could have gone left, and I could have gone right. I took the path to the left. That was the one that took me to the DC-10. I have no idea why.

You think about life, you think about what’s important. You think about why you lived. If that could happen like that, where do you want to be when it does, if it does. I guarantee you, if you find yourself in a moment when you believe your end is near, you will think of the people you love. And you will ask the question: Where am I?

And I hope you have a good answer.