“In 1989, our family flew to California for a vacation. My daughter had been ill with cancer the year before, and was still feeling the effects of the disease, but wanted to make one more trip to Knott’s Berry Farm and Sea World before checking into the hospital upon our return. The vacation itself was lovely, the weather was perfect, everything went like clockwork.

We returned to Phoenix on the same aircraft we had flown to California on, but sat in different seats than on the outwardbound trip. Suddenly, my daughter, who had been suffering chills, got colder and colder. She had already slipped on a heavy sweatshirt purchased for just that purpose, and I wrapped a Mexican blanket we had gotten at Knott’s around her, but she still got steadily colder. The attendant brought a blanket, and helped me wrap my daughter up like a cocoon, but it didn’t help. It seemed forever before we landed in Phoenix. It took several hours for her to warm up. What was odd was that the rest of us, my three granddaughters, my brother and myself, as well as the other passengers, were perfectly comfortable the whole trip!

About three weeks later, my brother flew to Ontario, California on business, taking the same plane. He sat across the aisle from the seats we had occupied and witnessed a lady sitting in the same seat my daughter had, beg for blankets–more blankets, please! She was freezing, although her husband and son on either side of her were rather warm, and said so.

The attendant recognized my brother, and quietly told him she was convinced there was something wrong with that particular seat because anyone who sat there–man, woman or child–complained of being cold, but had no explanation.”

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