Plane Crash

I got another reminder of the fragility of life today.

While I was grabbing some lunch at the Landing Strip, Patrick came up to me and asked me if I had heard anything about an airplane crash. I said I didn't. But I went on to ask him what had happened. He said that apparently the pilot of the twin engine turbo prop plane went on to report engine trouble shortly after takeoff, he reported it to the controllers, and tried to make a loop back so he could try to land on the runway. After the loop, he managed to align his craft with the runway, but unfortunately crashed about 200 feet, about 60.96 meters, short of the runway. I then went on to ask him about the pilot. Now note this down. While telling me the story, he had this look on his face which made it rather difficult for me to ascertain whether or not he was joking or telling me the truth. He said that the pilot died, and had this smirk on his face. Immediately I said, "Well that's good news." I decided that he was joking and messing around with me. Then as soon as I had said that, the lady who was making my lunch commented about the crash. I looked at Patrick and said, "You son of a bitch. He died?" He responded, "Yeah, you thought I was joking?" Immediately I felt like a complete jack ass. Then as I was getting my drink, the whole gravity of the situation struck me. In my mind, I was like, "Shit, someone just died at Daytona Beach Airport. Died by the same runway where I had stood and watched many planes take off and land." Later on in the day, I learned that apparently the flight was a father and son thing. The father was the pilot and the son was the passenger. The father died, while the son is critically injured and is currently being treated at the Halifax hospital.

This is the link to the story.