Article April 4, 2011 Issue

Flying solo

By Barbara Foster

Last summer, I took a flight with my dad to San Diego, California, where he dropped me off at a ten-day leadership class. It was a class designed to help you become a leader by realizing your and others’ potential, and I was taking it with my aunt. The plan was that at the end of the leadership class I would fly with her from California to Salt Lake City, and then from there I would fly by myself to Boise, Idaho, to meet my family on vacation. 

The idea of flying on my own was a big deal for me at the time. Because my father is an airline pilot, I would be flying stand-by—so I wouldn’t have a regular ticket and wouldn’t be listed as an unaccompanied minor. I had never done this completely on my own before, and usually depended on my parents to guide me through the airport and get us to the right gates. This was going to be the first time I would have to do it by myself.

As the ten days of the leadership class quickly came to an end, I found myself thinking more and more about flying by myself. I was worried about what might happen—would I miss my plane, or miss an announcement and get lost at the airport? My parents had given me tips over the phone on flying and going through security, and had let me know they would be monitoring the status of the flight from home. That helped, but I was still a little freaked out.

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