In 1972, three friends and I scored tickets to one of the hottest New Year's Eve events in the country known as The Miami Beach White Party. It is formal and requires attendees to wear only white. A month of non-stop shopping resulted in a white chameuse, floor length, halter dress with a short jacket trimmed with boa type feathers. It was fabulous.
Air travel around New Year's Eve was difficult. In 1972 there were many fewer flights than there are today. One of the group was a travel agent and arranged four seats on Eastern Airlines Flight 401 out of JFK on December 29th. We were all set.
A couple of days before Christmas that year I was feeling unwell. Since I am one of those people who never get sick, I was sure whatever bug it was would pass. However, by Christmas Eve I was seriously ill enough to be hauled to the Emergency Room by my sister, the nurse. My ear suddenly hurt beyond description. I needed an Ear, Nose & Throat doctor and none were available through the holiday. They sent me home with some painkillers. The morning after Christmas my sister arranged an appointment with the ENT Doc. Again, I was sure I was going to be okay because the pain had gone away. The only problem was I could not hear. It turned out the pain had subsided because infection behind my eardrum had broken through and my eardrum was torn. I was 25 and therefore invincible so I was still sure that I would be on my way to the White Party. You can imagine my disappointment when the Doc told me in no uncertain terms there would be no flying until I was cleared and I would not be cleared by 12/29. He was right, I was still quite ill and it was another two weeks before I was on my feet and three weeks before I returned to work.
I went home and let my friends know I would be unable to make the trip. Now, I was miserable, pouty, sorry for myself and sick. I was spending my days parked on the couch in front of a television I had a hard time hearing.
On December 30, I was out of bed and settled on the couch with a cup of tea while my sister prepared to go to work. My screaming brought her to my side. There was a picture of flight 401 crashed in the Florida Everglades. There was a crawl below the picture explaining it had crashed the night before and three quarters of the passengers were killed and they were attempting to rescue the survivors. I was very close to total hysteria when the phone rang. My sister held the phone to my good ear to hear my friends shouting....WE'RE OKAY...WE'RE OKAY! Because only three of them were traveling, our travel agent companion had managed to get the last seats on an earlier flight. The Good Lord does work in mysterious ways. My friends and I were spared because I was ill. The death toll was 101 and there were 69 survivors.
All in all I spent three weeks recovering. In the end I had only negligible hearing loss. To this day, it is the most sick I have ever been. I never wore my fabulous dress but it hung in my closet for years. After New Years my buddies came to visit me...still on the couch...with the intention of filling me in on what I'd missed. Instead, we spent about an hour crying. My heart still pounds when I think about that newscast. I have had one earache in my life...and I will be forever grateful for it. There is a reason for everything.
