Stapleton Airport, Denver

           At8:31A.M.,MST,awomanonTWA’sFlight196burstintotearsandbegantobugleherownopinion,whichwasperhapsnotunsharedamongsomeoftheotherpassengers(oreventhecrew,forthatmatter),thattheplanewasgoingtocrash.

           Thesharp-facedwomannexttoHallorannlookedupfromherbookandofferedabriefcharacteranalysis:"Ninny,"andwentbacktoherbook.Shehaddownedtwoscrewdriversduringtheflight,buttheyseemednottohavethawedheratall.

           "It’sgoingtocrash!"thewomanwascryingoutshrilly."Oh,Ijustknowitis!"

           Astewardesshurriedtoherseatandsquattedbesideher.Hallorannthoughttohimselfthatonlystewardessesandveryyounghousewivesseemedabletosquatwithanydegreeofgrace;itwasarareandwonderfultalent.Hethoughtaboutthiswhilethestewardesstalkedsoftlyandsoothinglytothewoman,quietingherbitbybit.

           Halloranndidn’tknowaboutanyoneelseon196,buthepersonallywasalmostscaredenoughtoshitpeachpits.Outsidethewindowtherewasnothingtobeseenbutabuffetingcurtainofwhite.Theplanerockedsickeninglyfromsidetosidewithguststhatseemedtocomefromeverywhere.Theengineswerecrankeduptoprovidepartialcompensationandasaresultthefloorwasvibratingundertheirfeet.