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Do you live in the Nicest Place in America?

Planedemonium

The first time my mother flew, she was a nervous wreck. During takeoff, the roar from the engines proved 
reassuring—it meant they were working, she reasoned. But when the plane leveled off, so did the engines. Grabbing the armrests, she asked aloud, “Did we stop?”

Samantha Earls, Wister, Oklahoma