I was on a JetBlue flight from Vegas to NYC years ago, coming back home from a bachelor party. On takeoff I heard a loud pop and just knew, from years of flying, something not-so-great just happened. I was sitting next to a good friend who didn't love flying so I was keeping my cool for him. Long story semi-short, you could tell we were flying in circles pretty quickly. The crew didn't communicate much. It was absolutely fascinating to witness how panic spread throughout the plane, even in mostly silence.

Before you knew it, this indescribable wave of anxiety just hung like a cloud. People started looking around, so others did the same. My friend began his descent into full panic attack mode. The college aged girl in front of me started crying. My buddy soaked through his shirt in sweat. People were trying to call and text loved ones to say what might be their goodbyes. There were a few "get me the fuck off this plane right the fuck now!!!!" freakouts. I think they actually helped the situation a bit because most people who were freaking felt better about their lesser level of freak. I don't remember how long it took the crew to tell us what happened, or the partial story. The hydraulics system went down, they said. But we were too big and full of fuel to land at Vegas, so we had to do circles above the desert to burn gas before we could land. I couldn't get why they didn't just go to LAX or something like that.

5 hours we were in the air. The turbulence above the desert is not great. So, you have lack of information, a faulty plane, and the inability to land all happening at once. So...much...vomit.

You know what was cool, though? The older gentleman in front of me consoling the college girl. Hugging her, holding her hand, asking her questions about her life to keep her mind busy. Then, pill bottles. That's what I'll always remember. People were passing around their downers for anyone who felt they needed 'em!

Finally, we were walked through emergency landing procedures and we went in for the landing. Nobody knew what to expect. I caught a glimpse of all the emergency lights at the far end of the runway, where we were headed.

The landing wasn't that bad. We survived. JetBlue told us they'd take care of everyone; cars, hotels, food. Then they told us there was another flight leaving soon for NYC and they automatically rebooked us all on it. Up to us if we took it, though.

I've never seen a group of people move that quickly towards the bar. We all did shots. Laughed, told dumb jokes. A crew rented a van to drive back East. I told my panicked buddy that, statistically speaking, he will never take a safer flight in his entire life than this next one. (Joke's on him, I'm a marketer, not a statistician!) We slept like babies on the flight, got into Brooklyn at 7am, hugged and kissed my girlfriend.

Edit: Forgot the part where the flight attendant (who was awesome) from the doomed flight ended up sitting in front of us on the next one. We asked her to give it to us straight and she basically said we lost 2 (of 3, if I recall correctly) hydraulics systems, then something else I can't remember. She said in her 17 years of flying it was the closest she ever cam to going down, believing it was a real possibility.