I used to love to fly, my Dad lived in California until he passed away and I would go out to visit quite often. I loved flying the red-eyes so that I could sleep some and get there early in the day. I had a number of scary flights, but I still flew. I thought it was fun, I even enjoyed take-offs and landings. Then the last flight out for my Dad's funeral was a horrible one, everything that could go wrong did. Delayed flights, problems with the plane etc., etc. Plus I wasn't going for a pleasant visit so I guess I was on edge anyway. Then of course 9/11 happened and I haven't flown since. I suppose someday I will have to face that fear.