Newjetjockey
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- Jun 12, 2003
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Long but interesting
Terror in the Skies, Again?
By Annie Jacobsen
A WWS Exclusive Article
Note from the E-ditors: You are about to read an account of what
happened during a domestic flight that one of our writers, Annie
Jacobsen, took from Detroit to Los Angeles. The WWS Editorial Team
debated long and hard about how to handle this information and
ultimately we decided it was something that should be shared. What
does it have to do with finances? Nothing, and everything. Here is
Annie's story.
On June 29, 2004, at 12:28 p.m., I flew on Northwest Airlines flight
#327 from Detroit to Los Angeles with my husband and our young son.
Also on our flight were 14 Middle Eastern men between the ages of
approximately 20 and 50 years old. What I experienced during that
flight has caused me to question whether the United States of
America can realistically uphold the civil liberties of every
individual, even non-citizens, and protect its citizens from
terrorist threats.
On that Tuesday, our journey began uneventfully. Starting out that
morning in Providence, Rhode Island, we went through security
screening, flew to Detroit, and passed the time waiting for our
connecting flight to Los Angeles by shopping at the airport stores
and eating lunch at an airport diner. With no second security check
required in Detroit we headed to our gate and waited for the pre-
boarding announcement. Standing near us, also waiting to pre-board,
was a group of six Middle Eastern men. They were carrying blue
passports with Arabic writing. Two men wore tracksuits with Arabic
writing across the back. Two carried musical instrument cases -
thin, flat, 18 long. One wore a yellow T-shirt and held a McDonald's
bag. And the sixth man had a bad leg -- he wore an orthopedic shoe
and limped. When the pre-boarding announcement was made, we handed
our tickets to the Northwest Airlines agent, and walked down the
jetway with the group of men directly behind us.
My four-year-old son was determined to wheel his carry-on bag
himself, so I turned to the men behind me and said, You go ahead,
this could be awhile. No, you go ahead, one of the men replied. He
smiled pleasantly and extended his arm for me to pass. He was young,
maybe late 20's and had a goatee. I thanked him and we boarded the
plan.
Once on the plane, we took our seats in coach (seats 17A, 17B and
17C). The man with the yellow shirt and the McDonald's bag sat
across the aisle from us (in seat 17E). The pleasant man with the
goatee sat a few rows back and across the aisle from us (in seat
21E). The rest of the men were seated throughout the plane, and
several made their way to the back.
As we sat waiting for the plane to finish boarding, we noticed
another large group of Middle Eastern men boarding. The first man
wore a dark suit and sunglasses. He sat in first class in seat 1A,
the seat second-closet to the cockpit door. The other seven men
walked into the coach cabin. As aware Americans, my husband and I
exchanged glances, and then continued to get comfortable. I noticed
some of the other passengers paying attention to the situation as
well. As boarding continued, we watched as, one by one, most of the
Middle Eastern men made eye contact with each other. They continued
to look at each other and nod, as if they were all in agreement
about something. I could tell that my husband was beginning to feel
anxious.
The take-off was uneventful. But once we were in the air and the
seatbelt sign was turned off, the unusual activity began. The man in
the yellow T-shirt got out of his seat and went to the lavatory at
the front of coach -- taking his full McDonald's bag with him. When
he came out of the lavatory he still had the McDonald's bag, but it
was now almost empty. He walked down the aisle to the back of the
plane, still holding the bag. When he passed two of the men sitting
mid-cabin, he gave a thumbs-up sign. When he returned to his seat,
he no longer had the McDonald's bag.
Then another man from the group stood up and took something from his
carry-on in the overhead bin. It was about a foot long and was
rolled in cloth. He headed toward the back of the cabin with the
object. Five minutes later, several more of the Middle Eastern men
began using the forward lavatory consecutively. In the back, several
of the men stood up and used the back lavatory consecutively as
well.
For the next hour, the men congregated in groups of two and three at
the back of the plane for varying periods of time. Meanwhile, in the
first class cabin, just a foot or so from the cockpit door, the man
with the dark suit - still wearing sunglasses - was also standing.
Not one of the flight crew members suggested that any of these men
take their seats.
Watching all of this, my husband was now beyond anxious. I decided
to try to reassure my husband (and maybe myself) by walking to the
back bathroom. I knew the goateed-man I had exchanged friendly
words with as we boarded the plane was seated only a few rows back,
so I thought I would say hello to the man to get some reassurance
that everything was fine. As I stood up and turned around, I glanced
in his direction and we made eye contact. I threw out my
friendliest remember-me-we-had-a-nice-exchange-just-a-short-time-ago
smile. The man did not smile back. His face did not move. In fact,
the cold, defiant look he gave me sent shivers down my spine.
When I returned to my seat I was unable to assure my husband that
all was well. My husband immediately walked to the first class
section to talk with the flight attendant. I might be overreacting,
but I've been watching some really suspicious things... Before he
could finish his statement, the flight attendant pulled him into the
galley. In a quiet voice she explained that they were all concerned
about what was going on. The captain was aware. The flight
attendants were passing notes to each other. She said that there
were people on board higher up than you and me watching the men. My
husband returned to his seat and relayed this information to me. He
was feeling slightly better. I was feeling much worse. We were now
two hours into a four-in-a-half hour flight.
Approximately 10 minutes later, that same flight attendant came by
with the drinks cart. She leaned over and quietly told my husband
there were federal air marshals sitting all around us. She asked him
not to tell anyone and explained that she could be in trouble for
giving out that information. She then continued serving drinks.
About 20 minutes later the same flight attendant returned. Leaning
over and whispering, she asked my husband to write a description of
the yellow-shirted man sitting across from us. She explained it
would look too suspicious if she wrote the information. She asked my
husband to slip the note to her when he was done.
After seeing 14 Middle Eastern men board separately (six together,
eight individually) and then act as a group, watching their unusual
glances, observing their bizarre bathroom activities, watching them
congregate in small groups, knowing that the flight attendants and
the pilots were seriously concerned, and now knowing that federal
air marshals were on board, I was officially terrified.. Before I'm
labeled a racial profiler or -- worse yet -- a racist, let me add
this. A month ago I traveled to India to research a magazine article
I was writing. My husband and I flew on a jumbo jet carrying more
than 300 Hindu and Muslim men and women on board. We traveled
throughout the country and stayed in a Muslim village 10 miles
outside Pakistan. I never once felt fearful. I never once felt
unsafe. I never once had the feeling that anyone wanted to hurt me.
This time was different.
Finally, the captain announced that the plane was cleared for
landing. It had been four hours since we left Detroit. The fasten
seat belt light came on and I could see downtown Los Angeles. The
flight attendants made one final sweep of the cabin and strapped
themselves in for landing. I began to relax. Home was in sight.
Suddenly, seven of the men stood up -- in unison -- and walked to
the front and back lavatories. One by one, they went into the two
lavatories, each spending about four minutes inside. Right in front
of us, two men stood up against the emergency exit door, waiting for
the lavatory to become available. The men spoke in Arabic among
themselves and to the man in the yellow shirt sitting nearby. One of
the men took his camera into the lavatory. Another took his cell
phone. Again, no one approached the men. Not one of the flight
attendants asked them to sit down. I watched as the man in the
yellow shirt, still in his seat, reached inside his shirt and pulled
out a small red book. He read a few pages, then put the book back
inside his shirt. He pulled the book out again, read a page or two
more, and put it back. He continued to do this several more times.
Terror in the Skies, Again?
By Annie Jacobsen
A WWS Exclusive Article
Note from the E-ditors: You are about to read an account of what
happened during a domestic flight that one of our writers, Annie
Jacobsen, took from Detroit to Los Angeles. The WWS Editorial Team
debated long and hard about how to handle this information and
ultimately we decided it was something that should be shared. What
does it have to do with finances? Nothing, and everything. Here is
Annie's story.
On June 29, 2004, at 12:28 p.m., I flew on Northwest Airlines flight
#327 from Detroit to Los Angeles with my husband and our young son.
Also on our flight were 14 Middle Eastern men between the ages of
approximately 20 and 50 years old. What I experienced during that
flight has caused me to question whether the United States of
America can realistically uphold the civil liberties of every
individual, even non-citizens, and protect its citizens from
terrorist threats.
On that Tuesday, our journey began uneventfully. Starting out that
morning in Providence, Rhode Island, we went through security
screening, flew to Detroit, and passed the time waiting for our
connecting flight to Los Angeles by shopping at the airport stores
and eating lunch at an airport diner. With no second security check
required in Detroit we headed to our gate and waited for the pre-
boarding announcement. Standing near us, also waiting to pre-board,
was a group of six Middle Eastern men. They were carrying blue
passports with Arabic writing. Two men wore tracksuits with Arabic
writing across the back. Two carried musical instrument cases -
thin, flat, 18 long. One wore a yellow T-shirt and held a McDonald's
bag. And the sixth man had a bad leg -- he wore an orthopedic shoe
and limped. When the pre-boarding announcement was made, we handed
our tickets to the Northwest Airlines agent, and walked down the
jetway with the group of men directly behind us.
My four-year-old son was determined to wheel his carry-on bag
himself, so I turned to the men behind me and said, You go ahead,
this could be awhile. No, you go ahead, one of the men replied. He
smiled pleasantly and extended his arm for me to pass. He was young,
maybe late 20's and had a goatee. I thanked him and we boarded the
plan.
Once on the plane, we took our seats in coach (seats 17A, 17B and
17C). The man with the yellow shirt and the McDonald's bag sat
across the aisle from us (in seat 17E). The pleasant man with the
goatee sat a few rows back and across the aisle from us (in seat
21E). The rest of the men were seated throughout the plane, and
several made their way to the back.
As we sat waiting for the plane to finish boarding, we noticed
another large group of Middle Eastern men boarding. The first man
wore a dark suit and sunglasses. He sat in first class in seat 1A,
the seat second-closet to the cockpit door. The other seven men
walked into the coach cabin. As aware Americans, my husband and I
exchanged glances, and then continued to get comfortable. I noticed
some of the other passengers paying attention to the situation as
well. As boarding continued, we watched as, one by one, most of the
Middle Eastern men made eye contact with each other. They continued
to look at each other and nod, as if they were all in agreement
about something. I could tell that my husband was beginning to feel
anxious.
The take-off was uneventful. But once we were in the air and the
seatbelt sign was turned off, the unusual activity began. The man in
the yellow T-shirt got out of his seat and went to the lavatory at
the front of coach -- taking his full McDonald's bag with him. When
he came out of the lavatory he still had the McDonald's bag, but it
was now almost empty. He walked down the aisle to the back of the
plane, still holding the bag. When he passed two of the men sitting
mid-cabin, he gave a thumbs-up sign. When he returned to his seat,
he no longer had the McDonald's bag.
Then another man from the group stood up and took something from his
carry-on in the overhead bin. It was about a foot long and was
rolled in cloth. He headed toward the back of the cabin with the
object. Five minutes later, several more of the Middle Eastern men
began using the forward lavatory consecutively. In the back, several
of the men stood up and used the back lavatory consecutively as
well.
For the next hour, the men congregated in groups of two and three at
the back of the plane for varying periods of time. Meanwhile, in the
first class cabin, just a foot or so from the cockpit door, the man
with the dark suit - still wearing sunglasses - was also standing.
Not one of the flight crew members suggested that any of these men
take their seats.
Watching all of this, my husband was now beyond anxious. I decided
to try to reassure my husband (and maybe myself) by walking to the
back bathroom. I knew the goateed-man I had exchanged friendly
words with as we boarded the plane was seated only a few rows back,
so I thought I would say hello to the man to get some reassurance
that everything was fine. As I stood up and turned around, I glanced
in his direction and we made eye contact. I threw out my
friendliest remember-me-we-had-a-nice-exchange-just-a-short-time-ago
smile. The man did not smile back. His face did not move. In fact,
the cold, defiant look he gave me sent shivers down my spine.
When I returned to my seat I was unable to assure my husband that
all was well. My husband immediately walked to the first class
section to talk with the flight attendant. I might be overreacting,
but I've been watching some really suspicious things... Before he
could finish his statement, the flight attendant pulled him into the
galley. In a quiet voice she explained that they were all concerned
about what was going on. The captain was aware. The flight
attendants were passing notes to each other. She said that there
were people on board higher up than you and me watching the men. My
husband returned to his seat and relayed this information to me. He
was feeling slightly better. I was feeling much worse. We were now
two hours into a four-in-a-half hour flight.
Approximately 10 minutes later, that same flight attendant came by
with the drinks cart. She leaned over and quietly told my husband
there were federal air marshals sitting all around us. She asked him
not to tell anyone and explained that she could be in trouble for
giving out that information. She then continued serving drinks.
About 20 minutes later the same flight attendant returned. Leaning
over and whispering, she asked my husband to write a description of
the yellow-shirted man sitting across from us. She explained it
would look too suspicious if she wrote the information. She asked my
husband to slip the note to her when he was done.
After seeing 14 Middle Eastern men board separately (six together,
eight individually) and then act as a group, watching their unusual
glances, observing their bizarre bathroom activities, watching them
congregate in small groups, knowing that the flight attendants and
the pilots were seriously concerned, and now knowing that federal
air marshals were on board, I was officially terrified.. Before I'm
labeled a racial profiler or -- worse yet -- a racist, let me add
this. A month ago I traveled to India to research a magazine article
I was writing. My husband and I flew on a jumbo jet carrying more
than 300 Hindu and Muslim men and women on board. We traveled
throughout the country and stayed in a Muslim village 10 miles
outside Pakistan. I never once felt fearful. I never once felt
unsafe. I never once had the feeling that anyone wanted to hurt me.
This time was different.
Finally, the captain announced that the plane was cleared for
landing. It had been four hours since we left Detroit. The fasten
seat belt light came on and I could see downtown Los Angeles. The
flight attendants made one final sweep of the cabin and strapped
themselves in for landing. I began to relax. Home was in sight.
Suddenly, seven of the men stood up -- in unison -- and walked to
the front and back lavatories. One by one, they went into the two
lavatories, each spending about four minutes inside. Right in front
of us, two men stood up against the emergency exit door, waiting for
the lavatory to become available. The men spoke in Arabic among
themselves and to the man in the yellow shirt sitting nearby. One of
the men took his camera into the lavatory. Another took his cell
phone. Again, no one approached the men. Not one of the flight
attendants asked them to sit down. I watched as the man in the
yellow shirt, still in his seat, reached inside his shirt and pulled
out a small red book. He read a few pages, then put the book back
inside his shirt. He pulled the book out again, read a page or two
more, and put it back. He continued to do this several more times.