What are the chances?
The pilot was standing around
as I got out of my wheelchair to board my flight to Portland.
He followed me and the flight attendant who volunteered to carry my bag.
I fling myself into my seat.
He quickly asked, “were you in the military.”
I replied “yes.”
He said, ” 2010?”
Again, although surprised this time, I said slowly “yessss.”
He then told me that he recognized me, my injuries, and my face.
He told me he never knew if I survived or not.
Marc Vincequere is his name.
He flies with United now.
Crazy small world.
He was the pilot that flew me out of the battle field.