I can remember where I was on 9/11, and I'm sure you can as well.

I was at work, and an astonished coworker came out of the breakroom and gave us all the news that was very hard to comprehend.

Commercial planes had been hijacked on the East Coast and had struck targets in New York and the nation's capital.

For months afterward, stories of heroism and struggle played out on our television sets and newspapers.

One thing that didn't become readily apparent on that day of crumbled buildings, fires and mayhem was the future of commercial air travel.

Gone were the days of stress-free flying. In its place were hours of lines, multiple searches and solemn flights.

Not that I have a problem with all that per se. Those hijackers took more than just thousands of lives. They also took away any joy we might have possessed in getting from point A to point B via the airlines.

I was privileged to make dozens of flights prior to 9/11, most back when such a tragic scenario could not have been imagined.

My first flight was a hop on a Frontier Airlines 737 from Billings, Mont., to Denver at the ripe old age of 15.

These days, on such a short flight, you'd be lucky to get a snack tossed to you from a flight attendant. Back in the mid-1970s, a full meal was provided.

I can still taste the sandwich and side of egg salad today, among other offerings.

Yep - food just tastes better at 30,000 feet.

Gradually, the airlines started scaling back their services, and a few years prior to 9/11, the chances of getting a meal at all on a domestic flight were slim and none.

And also the chances of a half-empty plane taking flight are gone as well.

For years, I would fly from Southern California to Montana to spend a couple weeks vacationing at our ranch. Many of those flights were the "red eye" variety. And many of those were passenger-challenged.

As the lights in the cabin would dim less than a half hour into the flight, I'd slide across my row of seats and lay there wondering how such an airline could make money essentially just ferrying me across the country.

Nowadays, the odds of any flight going "wheels up" with more than one or two seats not occupied is similar to the odds someone making it through LAX security in less than an hour. Ain't happening.

Less flights are skybound these days. Less people are passing through the fewer gates. And now that I don't have a job that requires me to take to the skies, you won't see me gracing the jetway anytime soon.

Sorry, airlines - you had me at egg salad.

Jerry Hitchcock, a copy editor for The Press, is perfectly happy traveling the interstates these days. He can be reached at 664-8176, Ext. 2017, or via email at [email protected].