Back in January 1982, I was flying out of Washington National in a little turbo-prop, on a day trip to New England for a college admission interview. The little plane seemed to be slip-sliding down the runway, and once it was airborne it was being buffeted around a lot by the wind. I arrived at my interview safely, but still nervous and nauseous. Return trip was uneventful. Next day, Air Florida Flight 90 took off from National, hit a bridge after being barely airborne for 30 seconds, and plunged into the Potomac, killing nearly everyone on board and few people on the bridge. I felt nervous and nauseous all over again, but *very* lucky . . .