Been on a few horror flights over the years myself.
Worst one, (and the closest to death, I believe) was on a 19 passenger aircraft that got caught in unforecast, closing-up thunderstorms between the US and the Bahamas. What should have been a 45 minute flight turned in to a 105 minute nightmare, as the crew tried desperately to find a hole in the storms.
I just belted up and hunkered down in the front row, watching the bulkhead flex, glad that I couldn’t see where the screams behind me were coming from.
Luckily, the flight crew were two grey-haired, near retirement experts, and even they were covered in sweat when we landed.
Been in a couple hit by lightening, and four declared emergencies, over the years.
(Let’s just not talk about the Air Force flying)
My dad was a seasoned ATP pilot and he and I alone were flying his Twin Commanche from Indianapolis to Detroit one winter night, IFR.
Controllers had us holding in a pattern at a major airway between Chicago and Detroit in the middle of a thunderstorm, about 11,000 feet.
It was tearing us up. 2,000’ drops and climbs in a second, throws both left and right. Dad was barking out to me commands re: radio settings, transponder settings, etc. The look on his face was almost one of shear terror - one I’d never seen before even though we’d been in some tough situations before and I’d been his co-pilot for 12 years. We weren’t in an airliner, but a tiny private plane. Of course, we were both tightly belted.
But after maybe 20 minutes holding in the storm, Dad finally called control and said, “You’ve gotta get us out of this or we’ll break up....”
They did, and we soon landed safely in Detroit - to pick up my girlfriend.
As soon as we got out of the plane on the ground, sweat still on his brow, Dad said, “I never want to go through that again as long as I live...” The flight back to Naptown was crystal clear and a beautiful starry night as the front had moved through - coulda been VFR.....
And this is a pilot who once lost all power on a take-off due to hydraulic failure to pitch control on the constant speed prop, with hydraulic oil covering the windshield so he could only see out the side window. Yet he was able to do a no-power return to the runway and land safely.