by Freida Marie Crump
Greetings from the Ridge.
The plane had just taken off from Milan, Italy, headed for Rome. My little group from the Midwest had plopped ourselves into the first three rows (Air Italia… open seating… grab what you can) when the pilot announced (in Italian of all things!) "Excuse me! This is the pilot! We have just lost the left cockpit window and will be going down!"