I think the closest I ever came to crashing in a plane was the return flight from my first trip in a commercial jet. As far as I remember we just hit some particularly rough turbulence, which made the plane drop quite a bit on several occasions. I remember enjoying the ride, as if it were a roller coaster, but as I think back I remember people gasping and a generally fearful atmosphere amongst the passengers.
I got off that flight not having any fear of flying. Then, between that day and the next time I flew, some five years later, I developed a distaste for flying. Sure, I'm afraid of flying, but not in a crippling way. I'll fly, I'll even choose flying over driving if given the option. But that doesn't mean I don't understand that I'm putting my life into someone else's hands. I know, driving statistically is more dangerous, blah blah, at least I have the illusion of control when I'm driving.
The weird thing is that when I was young, like between 4-6, I went up in a Cessna on a fairly regular basis. I mean, those have got to be the real death traps, right? But, ignorance is bliss.
