"How long have you been an Air Traffic Controller, Mr.?" “Gettin’ close to thirty years I guess. Over thirty if you count the years I directed planes out of the hangars and filled fuel tanks before I was promoted to an A.T.C. Back in those days I did basically the same things that you do now, except technology has made your job a lot less physical labor and more mental work.” “Wow, I guess you’ve seen quite a few plane crashes and ‘near misses’ over the years, huh?” “Well yeah; there have been a ‘handful’ of ‘near misses’ and catastrophes but that’s to be expected at a medium size airport like this one during a thirty year period, son. All in all, I think we have a very respectable safety record compared to others our size.” The Air Traffic Controller noticed the obvious signs of disappointment on the young man’s face. To rescue the dwindling conversation he added with a twinkle in his eye: “But I’ll never forget flight 666 from Sedah; it was quite an ordeal!” “How long ago was that?!?”; He asked with greatly renewed interest. “Oh, let’s see; I believe it was about 13 years ago.” His new friend’s eyes widened. Like a good fisherman who gently tugs on the line occasionally to render the bait irresistible, the old man opened his mouth as if to speak and then abruptly stopped cold. “Well, what happened”; The hired hand asked impatiently. The deliberate pause was killing his curiosity. The veteran controller started to continue but instead placed his fistover his mouth to cover a series of coughs. He rubbed his Adam’s apple and pointed at the hot beverage machine. Between dry heaves he managed to say that he needed a cup of coffee to clear his throat. The unsuspecting “fish” quickly dug into his pocket and produced the necessary fifty cents and dropped it into the coin slot. While still coughing, the storyteller indicated he needed cream to suit his preference. The few seconds it took for the machine to produce the bitter beverage seemed like an eternity for the young man. When the last drips leaked into the cup he urgently handed it to “the fisherman” who accepted it greatfully. The young man waited as patiently as he could while the controller sipped from his cup. The old man seemed to have every intention of drinking the entire cup before he would finish. At last it was empty and he dropped it into a nearby wastebasket. To the hired hand’s complete dismay, the air traffic controller just stood in front of the young man with a blank expression on his face like he had forgotten the subject of their previous conversation. The young man demanded: “Well?” There was more than a touch of annoyance in his voice from all the numerous delays. Putting on his best confused look, the veteran controller said: “Well what?” It was all he could do to keep from smiling. He extremely enjoyed the “rookie torturing session”. “Are you going to tell me what happened to flight 666 on not!?!” “Oh, yeah.”; he exclaimed dramatically. “That created quite a stir when it happened! I’ll never forget it.” “Well PLEASE tell me about it!”; he demanded. The old man looked him directly the eye and then glanced at the ground as if pondering whether he should tell the story or not. “You don’t want to hear about that horrible day!” “There’s no way that I’m going to be satisfied until you tell me the rest of the story now that you have my imagination running wild!”; he said in exasperation. “Well, I guess you’re strong enough to handle all the gory details then.”; He admitted decidedly. “Of course I can handle the truth, no matter how bad it is.”; He replied defensively. “I’m not a kid, you know!” Secretly however he wondered if he had a strong enough stomach to hear about the mutilation and carnage of flight 666. His desire to know outweighed his insecurity and prompted him further. “The truth is... there was no flight 666!”; He chortled hysterically. The young man’s expression made him laugh until his sides hurt. Finally his amusement subsided and he was able to explain. “Would you board a plane for flight number 666? Most people wouldn’t so there neveris one! It goes straight from 665 to 667 because of people’s fear and superstitious nature. I’ve waited thirty years to play that joke on someone new ever since I was made the butt of it when I first started working here!” He put his arm around the young man’s shoulder. “Tomorrow the coffee is on me!”
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