Sometimes life brings a new perspective through hard times or even terrifying experiences. I experienced this as a little girl when I survived being hit by a car. On December 7, 2012, I had another terrible perspective shift when the plane I was flying in nearly crashed. Things like that change you forever.
I had a one-off show up in Minnesota at a place in the middle of nowhere that was going to be hard to get to. I needed to fly from Birmingham to Atlanta, and then from Atlanta to a city in Minnesota where I’d meet KK and Matt and the rest of the band. Then we’d have to make a two-hour drive to the event.
Instead, I asked a friend who often flew me if he was available to fly us up to Minnesota and then back to Birmingham. He couldn’t do it this time but recommended someone else. I wasn’t thrilled by that idea, but he assured me, saying, “There are two pilots, and they’re both incredible, been flying for years. You’ll be in good hands.”
I agreed to the idea and then called KK, saying, “Why don’t you drive down to Birmingham and fly up with me? Then, after the show, we can all fly back together, and you and Matt can spend Sunday with Jay, the kids, and me. We’ll make some food, hang out, have dinner.”
I was excited about the plan, as I always am when family gets together. But this was an especially good time, too, because KK was six months pregnant with Milly.
KK agreed to the idea, and she and Matt drove down in time for us to fly out. On the plane, we met the two pilots. They were really nice and seemed experienced, and one of the pilots had brought his girlfriend along. He was probably in his sixties, and she was this upper-middle-aged, beautiful, classy southern woman. We had a great time talking with her as we flew up to Minnesota.
When we landed, my tour manager was there with a black SUV to take us all to the venue. It was a great show, and right after the meet and greet we headed back to the private airport. We brought our after-show food and drinks with us to have on the flight home. It was really cold and had been snowing, so we were excited to get on the plane and go!
For some reason, Matt thought it would be funny to film us boarding the plane. I heard him ask the pilots, “What kind of plane is this?” and KK and I were like, “What the heck are you doing? You don’t film before a private plane ride, or take pictures! That’s bad luck!” I mean, I fly a lot, and I fly private a lot, but I think everyone is a little nervous anytime they fly. It’s just not the most comfortable thing in the world to do. I think most people would admit that flying causes a bit of anxiety. Since I had such bad PTSD from getting hit by a car and from my exhaustion breakdown in 2005, I always keep anti-anxiety meds with me, especially when I have to fly. I am terrified of having a panic attack on a plane. Or anytime.
We settled into our seats. Matt was sitting across from me and KK was beside me, so the seat beside Matt was empty. I remember telling Matt, “Hey, it might be a little bumpy for the first ten to twenty minutes or so, because we will be going through the clouds.” I’m not sure why I said that to him, because he flies all the time. I think Matt and I have a bit of clairvoyance, because he predicted something bad was going to happen to me the day before I got hit by a car. For some reason, I felt like I needed to prepare him for something. And I felt responsible because I had arranged for the private jet.
He was like, “Okay, cool.” This being December in Minnesota, it was not just cold but COLD. Cold and dark, and we were in the middle of nowhere. We said goodbye to my tour manager and shut the door. We took off, and right as we started to pour some glasses of wine, put our tray tables down, and open our food, the plane bounced. And then it bounced again, and again, and not just a turbulence bounce but a “something is wrong” bounce. At first we tried to shrug it off and convince ourselves it was in fact just turbulence. You know how you do that thing where everybody grabs their armrests and closes their eyes, thinking it’s going to stop? But it didn’t stop, and ten to fifteen seconds later we knew we were in real trouble.
We were literally bouncing all over the sky, and some kind of alarm started going off, and the pilot’s girlfriend started yelling out his name. I thought, she flies with him five times a week, everywhere they go, and if she’s screaming his name, then this is awful.
Across from me, Matt started freaking out, saying, “Oh God, Oh God, Oh Jesus, Jehovah.” He was calling out for everyone, just in case.
I tried to stay calm for KK and my unborn niece and not do any damage to them by freaking out. But KK remained the most calm. It seemed her motherly instincts had kicked in. She was clinging to the armrests, saying, “It’s okay, it’s okay, Matt. It’s okay.”
Matt said, “No, it’s not! We’re crashing. Sara, we’re crashing!”
I can’t ever tell this part of the story without laughing at how my brother kept saying, “Sara, we’re crashing!” I don’t know if he said this because he and I have been best friends since we were little or if instead he was accusing me, like, “Sara, we’re crashing, and you made me ride on this damn airplane!”
It was probably a little bit of both.
All of a sudden, I was thrown to the floor—I mean completely thrown down, head to the floor, at KK’s feet. It was the strangest sensation to be stuck there, like a giant magnet was holding me down. I couldn’t lift my head; I couldn’t lift any part of me. I simply cannot describe to you the chaos that was happening. It was truly horrifying. When you’re in a chaotic situation like that, seconds seem like hours, and it’s excruciating. And your brain reacts oddly and slowly. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore, and I yelled to the pilots, “What the hell is going on?”
Matt yelled back, “We’re crashing, we’re crashing!” I don’t think I had ever realized how redundant Matt can be. And negative, jeez… think on the bright side for a change.
My brother started to realize that he was passing out. Thank God he is a very smart man, because he also realized: If I’m passing out, the pilots might be, too! So he started yelling at them, “Hey! Don’t pass out! Y’all, DO NOT PASS OUT!!!” When I heard that, I forced my head to look up at the pilots, and they were both slinking down in their chairs. They were indeed fighting passing out.
Matt kept screaming to them and told the pilot’s girlfriend to keep them awake. She was banging on their chairs, shouting, “Don’t pass out, y’all!”—and this seemed to be working. They did this thing that they learned in training where you do a major sit-up and clench your stomach muscles. It’s a technique Air Force pilots use to keep from passing out when they’re pulling g’s—feeling the effects of g-forces. It works.
At some point during all of this I realized that we were crashing (I hate it when Matt is right), and I knew we had not been in the air long, so we were probably seconds from dying. I completely accepted it. It was so strange and peaceful. My fear subsided, and all I could think about was: I’m about to be face-to-face with Jesus. It’s actually happening, and I’m going to meet my heavenly Father. I know that sounds crazy, but it’s absolutely true.
Finally, it stopped being chaotic, and everything became dead silent. Nobody talked or moved. The copilot turned around, and all he said was, “We’re okay now.”
Matt looked out the window and said, “We’re not okay.” Damn it, Matt!
The left wing had crumpled up like a Coke can because of the pressure.
The copilot called back, “We’re going to make an emergency landing in Fargo, North Dakota. We’ll be on the ground in about twenty minutes.”
Suddenly, I felt really scared. The pilot’s girlfriend moved back and sat with us, and we all huddled together and sobbed for the next twenty minutes, saying “Are you okay?” “Yes, are you?” “Yes, thank God, oh thank you, God!”
As relieved as I was, those last twenty minutes before we landed were torturous. My emotions were about to be out of control because I had just accepted death, and now that we were okay, I started to panic because all I wanted was to be with my children and husband. That twenty minutes seemed like a lifetime.
As the plane hit the runway in Fargo, there were police and emergency vehicles waiting for us.
I called Jay before the plane had stopped.
“Why are you calling me?!” he asked in a worried tone. He knew I should not be calling him yet because it was supposed to be a two-hour flight and I was calling him forty-five minutes after I’d already texted that we were in the air, so it freaked him out. “We had a problem with our plane and had to make an emergency landing,” I said as calmly as possible.
“What happened, baby?” He sounded very scared.
“I’m not exactly sure, something broke or went terribly wrong. I’ll call you back as soon as we talk to the pilots.”
It was hard for him to let me off the phone, because he wanted all the details, but I didn’t have any yet. I promised to call him back as soon as I could and assured him that I was fine. Matt was calling the band and crew, and KK was calling her mom. Everyone was shocked at our news.
Then I called my mom. When I heard her voice, I started bawling. You know what I mean? Something about hearing your mom’s voice when you’re scared or stressed is just so comforting. When I called her after my anxiety attack, same thing. It scared her, of course, but she kept her voice steady. “Well, I’m so glad you’re okay, honey. I know that had to be terrifying, but it’s all over and you’re okay now…” All the comforting things that you would want your mom to say.
Once everything calmed down and we were all wrapped in blankets and had coffee in our hands waiting for our ride to the hotel, the pilots started telling us what the hell had happened. They took off on manual mode, and then when we were around 10,000 feet, they switched to autopilot. At that moment our plane went crazy. They realized later that the gyroscope had gone out. The gyroscope is the piece of equipment that tells the plane if it is right side up or upside down. Because it wasn’t working properly, as soon as they switched to autopilot the plane automatically turned upside down and started plummeting toward the ground. And the whole time, we never knew that we were upside down. Interesting fact, our wine never spilled! That was the biggest blessing of all. These two pilots really and truly saved our lives because they were so well trained that they were able to get us out of what was probably the most precarious flying situation they’d ever been in. They both stayed calm.
The copilot had spent many years of his career doing aerobatic shows, so he had a real sense of how to “feel” what was happening. You have to remember that we were in the clouds and in the dark; no one could see anything. When the plane was screaming at them and all their control panels were telling them that we were about a second from the ground, they took a chance and pulled up. There was a 50-50 chance that they would make the right decision. They did something that’s called a split S maneuver to get us headed straight back up toward the sky. Remember when I said I had been thrown to the floor and couldn’t lift my head? That was because of the g-force. When we were pulling up, it actually gave the sensation of being pulled down. We pulled 4.5 g’s to get back up, and that’s what caused the wing to crumple. A plane like that is not designed to pull that many g’s. Neither am I.
Our tour manager had been on the phone arranging a car service to take us to a hotel in Fargo. Of all the nights, there had been some big game or event happening, and almost every hotel was sold out. The only place that had any rooms was the Howard Johnson’s. We were so tired and in need of warmth and comfort that we didn’t care where we stayed. “Just book it!” I said. Well, that was a big mistake. They only had two rooms, so Matt and KK and I shared a room, and the two pilots and the girlfriend shared a room. I have no idea what in the world was happening, but when we walked into the Howard Johnson’s, it was packed! People were everywhere, and they had been partying like rock stars. They were yelling and dancing and acting insane right there in the lobby, which was connected to a bar area. It was so scary it made the “plane crash” seem like a Sunday afternoon drive in the country! Then I had a terrifying thought: “Wait, maybe we did die, and we are in HELL!”
The next day, some friends of ours in Birmingham sent an airplane up to Fargo to bring us home. It was the exact same type of airplane as the other one. Thankfully, it was a beautiful, sunny day, with clear blue skies, and we told ourselves that we’d be fine. I mean, what were the chances of anything like that ever happening again? And I just wanted to get home so badly.
Before we boarded, the new pilot could see that I was nervous. He said, “I had a perfect and easy flight up here, and I will fly on manual all the way home. Don’t worry about anything. You’ll be home before you know it.” I was so touched that he took that moment to say that to me. One time I heard a sermon by Matt Chandler, one of my all-time favorite preachers in the world, and he said, “Never pass up a moment to say something kind to someone. If it pops into your head, then say it, especially if it would make someone feel good.” I love that. I try to do that always.
Before we left, I called my assistant at the time and asked her to go to the grocery store and get steaks and wine and cheese and desserts and everything yummy she could think of. I invited some friends and family members over to just spend the evening TOGETHER. I wanted people around me to celebrate that we survived.
I didn’t realize what would happen when I got home, though. As soon as I walked in and saw my babies, I just about fell apart. Just seeing them made it all too real. What if I had died? What if I had left those three precious people motherless? I hugged them so tightly and then said, “I’m going to go take a quick shower. I’m disgusting, you guys!” I was trying to keep a smile on my face as I sort of backed out of the living room so they wouldn’t see me burst into tears. And boy, did I. I got in that shower and sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. I think I was just trying to stay strong until we were home. Not that I didn’t already realize it, but it hit me again that I love those three human beings so much that it scares me sometimes. All you moms are shaking your heads YES right now.
Jay stood in the doorway to my bathroom and said, “Baby, are you okay?” I stepped out of the shower and wrapped a robe around myself and just fell into his arms. Jay is the perfect person to hug when you need it. He is huge and his big, muscular arms can make me feel so safe and loved. I pulled on some sweats and Uggs and a big, warm sweater and with no makeup and wet hair joined everyone in the kitchen for a night of food, drink, and gratitude to God for saving us.
It was so hard to let Matt and KK leave and go back to Nashville the next day. We were traumatized, there was no doubt about it, and the six of us who were on that plane are the only people on this earth who understand it completely. I felt like if Matt and KK left, then I would be alone with my PTSD with no one to talk to about it. I went into sort of a depression for a few weeks, and we had a group text among the six of us that was very helpful. We texted every day during that time. And still every year on December 7 we text one another.
There were actually seven of us who survived. My sweet niece Milly was born the following March 17. A St. Patrick’s Day baby. She’s about to turn six and she is absolutely the reason God saved that plane from going down, because she needed to be born. And guess what? She became a big sister in August 2019. Isn’t life just amazing?
Even though my kids aren’t being raised the same way I was, meaning working on a farm outside of a small town, I’m teaching them to work hard and take pride in everything they do, to find moderation in life, to love and be loyal to family, to be honest, be a good friend, and find God.
What we experience as children creates memories, beliefs, habits, and also some pain that remains with us our entire lives. Childhood pain shaped me in a lot of ways! My parents’ divorce and a near crippling accident, growing up performing on stage, and many other things made me the woman I am today. Every experience teaches us something, and that’s what I love about life.