One weekend in June two years ago, my friends Le’Annka, Nia and I were set to fly from Nassau, the capital of The Bahamas, to Long Island, just over 200 miles away. But our reservation got cancelled. We rebooked – that was also cancelled. We then chose to charter a plane. I was apprehensive – those planes are small. But Le’Annka read positive reviews of the pilot, so we decided to take a chance.
The weather that morning was perfect. My friends and I were excited. I was struck by how small the plane was. It was a seven-seater; we all sat up close to one another. But there was nothing to worry about: we were in the air and smoothly making our way over. In no time, we were soaking up the sun.
Sunday came. At 9am we were back at the airport about to board our flight home. The pilot was on the runway waiting for us in the plane that flew us over. We were joined by three locals, Rhiannon, Patsy and Aleitheia. We found our seats, then took off.
A minute or two later, at approximately 200ft, there was a beeping sound, then a red flashing light on the left wall of the plane. I thought it was probably nothing, but Nia had a look of sheer panic. Before I could gather my thoughts, the plane started to nosedive. Then everything seemed to unfold in slow motion.
The pilot was able to get the plane to level off, but then the tail end started to tip over. That’s when I knew something was wrong, but I still didn’t panic. I kept telling myself everything was going to be OK.
I felt the plane tilt towards my side. I glanced out of the window and saw trees. The alarm was the only sound I could register. I didn’t hear the others screaming. I didn’t hear the pilot tell us to brace for impact. I felt as if I was in a bubble.
Moments later, we were on the ground. The landing was not as bad as I had anticipated. I was able to move my arms and legs, and I did not have any visible injuries. But I saw that Rhiannon was unconscious.
I sat there looking around in disbelief. Everything went blank. I wasn’t thinking about anything. A few seconds later, I heard someone yell, “Everybody, get out the back of the plane!” I was still frozen. Then Le’Annka yelled, “Allicia, get up and move, now!” That’s when I snapped back to reality.
It wasn’t until we were crawling out of the plane that we discovered Aleitheia. She had been ejected from her seat and was lying face down outside the plane. I couldn’t tell if she was alive – we were all shaken up. The pilot asked Le’Annka, who was a nurse, to help him administer CPR to Aleitheia. I called the police.
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We were in the middle of nowhere in a muddy thicket. The plane seemed to have slid a few feet upon impact, which made a bit of a clearing, but there was nothing around us. Rhiannon came to, and Nia had a huge gash on her arm and was complaining of bruised ribs.
About two hours later, in dead silence with the sun beating down, a helicopter appeared and rescuers made their way to us. We were taken back to Nassau. We later learned that Aleitheia didn’t make it. She was only 22, with a newborn and fiance who were waiting at the airport for her return. We also learned that a loss of power led to the crash.
It wasn’t until that night, when I was home alone, that the magnitude of what had happened really hit me. I had dissociated during the actual event, keeping a brave face. That face finally slipped when I got to bed and realised there was no one there to comfort me, and a family was mourning the loss of their loved one. The scenes would play over and over in my mind. I didn’t want to be left alone.
A lot has happened in these past two years. I was diagnosed with PTSD, but have overcome it. Today I’ve been doing what I love: working as a stylist. When I fly, I pray before takeoff. I also think about how fragile life can be and how important it is to spend time with loved ones. The time we have on Earth is not guaranteed, so it’s important we don’t waste it.
As told to Nasia Colebrooke
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