I used to be absolutely terrified by flying, as an extension of my general crippling fear of heights.
I went to university in North Carolina, but I'm from New Hampshire... so I got stuck doing a lot of flying during those four years, since my family wasn't willing to do a 17+ hour roadtrip each way for every single vacation.
My first solo flight home involved flying from Greensboro, NC to Charlotte, NC then from Charlotte, NC to Manchester, NH. Because Greensboro to Charlotte is only like a 25 minute flight they put us in this seemingly ancient, tiny propeller aircraft. To make matters worse, we had to fly through a storm. I had a white-knuckle grip on my armrests, I was sweating profusely, and felt like I was going to be sick at any moment since I had the opening disaster sequence from the first Final Destination movie running through my head over and over. About ten minutes into the flight the guy sitting next to me asked if I was okay, and I told him the situation. At this point the plane was shaking pretty violently from turbulence from the storm. The man next to me pointed out that across from us there was another passenger in a uniform that was sleeping. He explained to me how the airlines let their aircrews take open seats on flights to get home when their shifts finish, and that the guy across from us was likely a pilot or copilot judging by the uniform. The guy next to me asked me if the uniformed man would be so calm if he thought we were in any danger. Seeing that helped quite a bit, and I still appreciate what the guy who sat next to me did for me that day.
Over the course of those four years I flew home and back to school four times each year, and each flight involved a layover at an airport somewhere in between destinations. By my senior year I was actually getting pretty comfortable with it. My only real gripe is that I always seem to catch some kind of cold every time I fly.
Meanwhile one of my roommates who lived in Maryland and did drive home for each vacation ended up getting into three collisions, none of which his fault, over those four years. Go figure.
