This is a tale that has frequently been recounted to me by my parents, as I was far too young at that time to recollect.
Many years ago, during my single-digit years sometime in the 1990s (that is, the pre-9/11 era), my parents were taking me to a certain enchanting theme park on the east coast of the US. It was likely even my first excursion, so naturally, I was exhilarated. With that center of magic being situated in Florida and us residing in New York, this also signified my first airplane ride. So, of course, we made our way to the airport, went through all the procedures, boarded the plane, and waited for it to take off.
And we waited. And waited. And waited some more, as it was significantly delayed for one reason or another. Of course, a plane bound for Orlando would be filled with numerous nervous and excited children, so some of the flight attendants walked around and offered to take the young children up front to have a look at the cockpit.
Naturally, when they offered to take me up, my parents permitted the flight attendant to escort me forward and see all the fancy equipment and pilots and everything at the front. They sat in their seats, doubtless imagining that I was having a great time… when, all of a sudden, they felt the plane JOLT forward. It wasn’t taking off – just a sudden jolt out of the blue.
Shortly thereafter, the flight attendant who had taken me up brought me back to my parents, and I got back into my seat. Curious, my mother asked precisely what had caused that strange jolt in the plane.
Stewardess: “Your son pulled the emergency brake.”
