4My mother had always begged Dad not to take small airplanes because so many musicians died in crashes. But there we were in a tiny four-seater, a single-engine plane.
It was like a fifty-year-old car that could barely make it off the ground. When the plane finally made it up in the air, it just swayed back and forth, never seeming to balance its wings.
The trip was only supposed to take an hour, but time was moving very slowly. The pilot did not speak any English, so I couldn’t ask him why it looked like we were headed straight into the side of a snow-covered mountain. The mountain just kept getting bigger and bigger, much higher than we were flying. I imagined us hitting the peak and flying through the air as the plane blew up. Or would our bodies just explode on impact?
The engine no
