If you want one more, we were on a flite from Tampa to Orlando and on to New York. The pilot made 3 attempts to get into Orlando but was unable due to windshear (he said so). God, I was ashen at the second attempt. Thankfully, my boyfriend (an Air Force guy (1952) was totally calm and assuring. I lived to tell the tale but suffered the indignity of barfing and did truly have to change my underwear when we got back to Tampa. Needless to say I got on another plane within 2 hours and then got stuck in Chicago 2 nites because of a blizzard hitting New York.