HEATHER ANGELL: We're barreling down the runway, and I turn to him and say, "Here we go, Neil!"

He looks straight ahead, unrattled, and says, "Well, grab hold if you need to."

TOM WILLIAMS: So I look at my friend, I says, "You got your American Express with ya?"

And he says, "Yes."

I says, "Let's buy a plane."

(audience laughs) LINDA BUTTON: There is a wall of black clouds barreling toward us.

But for once, I am not afraid, because I'm in first class.

(audience laughs) ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ANGELL: My name's Heather Angell.

I live in Somerville, Massachusetts, now.

Um, I grew up in New Hampshire, um, and I work at a little nonprofit in Dorchester, Mass., uh, called EVkids.

Um, and I help college kids volunteer with youth for tutoring and mentoring.

Um, and I'm a part-time hospital chaplain.

Fantastic, and how long have you been storytelling?

Um, like, I guess two years from, like, the beginning when I did it kind of by mistake, and then till now, yeah.

- Well, I'm really interested in hearing about that.

How did you start off doing storytelling by mistake?

I was at work, and my friend Brittany, uh, was, like, "There's a story thing tonight, we should go, and you should tell that funny thing that happened to you."

You've been doing storytelling for a little bit now, and I'm just curious, when you're about to hit the stage, do you have any expectations about how it's gonna go, what the night will be like?

I really try not to do that.

Um, I, uh, I just want to, like, not trip, and then I want to just sort of stick to the plan in my head, but I try not to expect anything from anybody other than that I'm just gonna be authentic.

When I was a senior in college, I met my nun.

I was in my last year at Loyola University Chicago, all my friends were leftist Catholics, and we spent the weekends going to anti-war protests and eating ice cream with the guys, uh, training to be Jesuits at the Jes Res, where they lived on campus.

And I was a theology major, and I decided that I wanted to get a spiritual director, which is basically somebody that you talk to about God and prayer and your calling in life.

And I knew that I wanted to get a woman, because I was sick of the patriarchy.

And I still am, um, just for the record.

Um... (audience laughs) And that's when I met Sister Chris.

She had just moved back to Chicago from teaching in a seminary in the Midwest, and, um, she had platinum white hair, bright red lipstick, and she told me that her dad was a Greek god and her mother was an Irish lass, and they had made her.

(audience chuckles) And spiritual direction is a little bit like dating.

You have to, like, both say yes and be into it, and, thankfully, we really hit it off.

And so, soon, every other Thursday, I was going to Sister Chris's apartment off campus, and drinking tea, and talking about God.

And she became a bit of a celebrity amongst my friends.

Um, she would regale them with stories about how, uh, she almost ran away with this priest who was in love with her, but decided to stay in the convent.

My friends started affectionately calling her my nun, and that's what she was.

And I kept in touch with her for many, many years after I finished college, after I moved back to Boston.

And every time I went back to Chicago to visit friends, uh, I would see her, and we'd have these long lunches over soup and bread, looking at Lake Michigan, and having great conversations.

And then, about a year and a half ago, she decided to move to Phoenix, Arizona, where her order has a all-girls school that she was gonna help out at.

And she says to me, "You know, you should come and see me in Phoenix.

We could go to the Grand Canyon."

And, um, as much as I wanted to go on an adventure with my nun, I kind of hedged a little bit, and I was, like, "Yeah, you know, maybe we could do that."

Um, and it's because I, in my 20s and 30s, struggled a lot with anxiety, and it had manifested itself around claustrophobia, and then just settled on flying.

I know there's a train from Boston to Phoenix, but I think it takes weeks.

(audience laughs) Um...

So that didn't seem like an option.

And then about six months after she got there, she was diagnosed with a very serious illness.

Um, and I just had this compelling feeling, like, I have to see my nun.

And I thought to myself, "Maybe I could fly there."

And I didn't tell anyone, because even saying that made my hands sweat and my heart race.

It's actually happening right now.

(audience chuckles) And, finally, I told my friend Joel, I'm, like, "Hey, I think I might get on an airplane again."

And he was, like, "Let's ask the answer book."

So he gets this giant hardcover book out, and he hands it to me, like, "Ask the book."

So I say, "Should I go to Phoenix to see my nun?"

And I open it up to a random page, and it says, "No matter what."

I bought my tickets the next day.

With flight insurance.

(audience laughs) And then I started doing a deep dive on Google: "fear of flying."

Pictures of inverted 747s appear.

(audience laughs) Balls of fire, um... And then I found my salvation.

Captain Ron, retired commercial airline pilot turned mental health counselor.

(laughter) Helps people get over their fear of flying.

Coincidentally based in Phoenix.

But since I couldn't fly to Phoenix to get over my fear of flying to Phoenix, we did Skype.

And, um, he found out my last name was Angell, and he said, "Angels are meant to fly."

And I said, "Okay."

(laughter) And I bought his digital flight Harmonizer, which was an audio of airplane sounds taking off overlaid with affirmations.

(laughter) And I would listen to it with headphones on the bus because I knew it wasn't gonna, like, take off down Mass.

Ave. And a few months go by, and then it's my day, and I'm at Logan Airport, and I am waiting for the plane.

And you could have put tights and a cape on me, and I wouldn't have felt more like a superhero.

This was Herculean.

I get on the plane, it's very small-- I mean, not really, but it felt small.

The guy next to me, thank God, is a talker.

He wants to tell me everything there is to know about retirement in Arizona.

(laughter) And we're barreling down the runway, and I turn to him and say, "Here we go, Neil!"

And Neil looks at me, and he's, like, "Are you afraid of flying or something?"

And I was, like, "I haven't flown in nine years, Neil."

He looks straight ahead, unrattled, and says, "Well, grab hold if you need to."

(laughter) So, pretty soon, me and Neil and a hundred other people are in the air, and all my intrusive thoughts come back.

You are in a tuna can in the sky and you can't get off of it.

You're gonna have a panic attack, they're gonna land the plane in Kansas, and arrest you.

(laughter) But Neil's voice about the trailer park and the palm trees just keeps bringing me back to the present moment.

(laughter) And as the plane levels off, and we reach cruising altitude, so do I. I go into the bathroom, I give myself wild thumbs up, "You're killing it."

We land in Phoenix.

I get to meet Neil's wife, who had to sit a few rows up because they bought their tickets late, and I thank her for having the kindest husband in the world.

I get a ride to the convent, and my nun, always a night owl, is up waiting for me under a palm tree.

We decide that the Grand Canyon is too far.

So the next day, we drive to Sedona, a couple hours away.

We wanted to check out this church called the Chapel of the Holy Cross, which is kind of set out across by the red rocks, it looks like it's part of the mountain.

And we had, took a golf cart to the base of it, but then, uh, there was this tall path that we had to go up, and the golf cart didn't make that.

So, the volunteer was, like, "You know, we got a wheelchair over there, "and there's this really strong young Canadian guy who volunteers with us."

And I was, like, "I got this."

So my nun gets in the, um, wheelchair, and I'm pushing her up, we get to the church, and the desert sun is just coming in so brightly through these stained glass windows, and it just smells like wax and candles, and I can feel the heat on my face.

And I turn to her, and I'm, like, "I am just so glad I'm here."

She's, like, "Me, too-- I'm so glad you came."

She put her hand on my arm and we just sat there in silence.

And a week later, I'm on the red eye back to Boston, and the guy next to me doesn't want to talk.

But I don't need him to this time, because as the lights on the plane go out, and the plane takes off, tears are streaming down my face.

And this time, all I can feel is gratitude.

(audience cheers and applauds) ♪ ♪ WILLIAMS: My name's Tom Williams.

I grew up in Quincy, Massachusetts.

I've been a lawyer for the last 47 years.

I have a wife and four children.

Right now, I live in Scituate, Massachusetts.

And your accent is so very Quincy-Boston.

It's Quincy-Boston.

The Quincy accent's just a little bit different than the Boston accent, but it's there.

Yeah, it's very Quincy.

(laughs) I imagine people always know where you're from.

Well, if you go to other parts of the country, they just say, "Could you say that again?"

- (laughing): I bet.

- And then I park my car at Harvard Yard, and they love it.

(laughing) So, what role has storytelling played in your life?

In my law practice, what I do is, rather than tell people the law, I sit down with them, and I try to tell them a story, and how their plight fits into the story, and they remember the story.

But if I told them that, uh, what the law was on Medicaid or what their law was on estate taxes or whatever, they're, they're gonna walk out of the room, and they're not really gonna remember, but they remember the story.

It was a Saturday afternoon, and I had just finished my chores, mowing the lawn, and all of a sudden I looked over at my neighbor's house, and the garage door was open, and I said, "Well, let's go visit my neighbor."

So, and he was a former Marine, he happened to be an undertaker, but he was a former Marine, and he really liked Soldier of Fortune magazines.

So he's in his garage, sitting down there having a highball, and we're both suffering a little bit from a midlife crisis, so we needed an adventure.

And I'm flipping the magazine, and all of a sudden there's a picture of an airplane, one of those fighters of World War II with the top off and a big sharkskin in the front and going like that.

And my friend says, "I always wanted to be a pilot."

And I said, "Me, too."

Now, folks, I was afraid of heights, okay?

But I said, "Me, too."

Then I said to him, "If we really want to be pilots, let's get in the car, and go down to the airport and get a pilot's lesson."

So we get in the car, we drive about 20 miles, we get to the airport, and there's a plane available, and there's an instructor available, so, "Take us for a lesson."

So we get up for our lesson, and we're in there for about a half an hour, and we're flying around, you know?

It was pretty nice.

And then, so then I says to the instructor, "How much does it cost, uh, for lessons if you want to be a pilot?"

He says, "$100 an hour."

I says, "Ah," I says.

But he says, "If you own your own plane, it's $50 an hour."

(audience laughs) Hmm, okay.

So, my friend and I get out of the plane, and I says to the instructor, "How much does a plane cost?"

He says, "You could buy that plane over there for $18,000."

So I look at my friend, I says, "You got your American Express with ya?"

And he says, "Yes."

I says, "Let's buy a plane."

(audience laughs) So we bought a plane.

(audience laughs) Now, folks, by the time we're driving home, we are completely sober, okay?

And we're deciding that, yes, we own a plane, because they cash those American Express pretty fast.

We own a plane.

Now we got to tell the wives.

How are we going to do that?

And then, secondly, what can you, gonna do, own a plane and not have a pilot's license?

So both of us learn how to fly, and we get our pilot's licenses.

The first day that we ever flew together-- first and only day that we ever flew together, okay?

(audience laughs) We're down at the Marshfield Airport, and we take off like this, and that's right next to the ocean.

And we take up, and we're around 800 feet up in the air, and we're going up, and my friend opens the window.

Now, folks, when you open a window in one of those small planes, it's like 25 lawnmowers... (imitating) ...making so much noise.

I tell him, "Close the window," okay?

(stammering): And he doesn't close the window.

Then he reaches into his jacket, and he pulls out a white box.

I said, "What are you doing?"

He says, "Cremains."

I says, "Cremains."

Okay, now it struck me.

My friend's an undertaker.

He's taking a tax deduction for his plane.

(audience laughs) He's gonna bury...

He, he, he's gonna bury somebody at sea or drop them off.

So, I want to tell you the truth, folks.

You don't spit in the wind, you don't pee in the wind, and you don't throw cremains in the wind, okay?

He puts it out the window, it blows back in.

(audience laughs, man groans) I am the pilot, okay?

Folks, I was scared to death.

It's in my eyes, it's all over me.

All of a sudden, the plane's going... (imitating plane engine) And all I can think is, a dead person's gonna kill me.

(audience laughs) The second thing all I could think was, is a, is a lawyer and an undertaker die in a crash.

Who cares?

(audience laughs) Okay?

It just sounds like a, a joke.

Okay, so then, what happens is this: about, maybe about a month later, a couple of months later, my wife and I, we had a farm, it's a four-hour drive up in Maine, okay, from where we live, but it's only about an hour and 15 minutes if you fly.

So, I built myself a runway, okay, on my farm.

I built a runway, but there was one end of the runway that was a little wet, I knew it was wet.

Okay, so then I asked my wife one day, "Do you want to fly to the farm?"

"Sure."

So, she gets in the plane, and she's flying with me up to the farm, and everything's going pretty good, and she's quite proud of having her husband being a pilot, okay?

So we get to the farm, and I go to land, and I go like this, but I know there's a wet spot there, so I go, okay.

And I get... (imitates) I take off like this.

And she says, "What are you doing?"

I says, "Touch and go."

"Oh, okay."

So then, I come in again... (imitates plane engine) Gonna land.

Boom!

I take off again.

She says, "Will you stop that touch and go and land the plane?"

I says, "Okay."

So this time I'm gonna land the plane.

I go down, you know, and I'm not looking at the windsock.

You're supposed to land against the wind, not with the wind, but I'm not looking at it.

So then I land the plane-- boom, boom, boom, boom.

The plane won't stop.

We're going down the runway.

Now, folks, I ran out of runway.

You're not supposed to run out of runway.

(audience laughs) Okay?

At about 200 feet at the end of the airpo--, uh, my airstrip, I have a badminton net.

The plane hits the badminton net.

(imitates) Okay?

I say to my wife, "Carry or landing, ha-ha."

Okay?

She didn't-- she didn't speak to me for three days.

(audience laughs) About, oh, maybe about a couple of weeks after that, somebody calls up, they want to buy some meat from my farm, because I had meat up there.

So what happens is this: I have a man down the airport, says, "Let's go for a ride."

So he goes for a ride up there with me.

Everything's going good, I see the farm, didn't look at the windsock, then I go to land.

But this time I wasn't gonna do any touch and goes.

I was just gonna land this plane.

So I go down... (imitates plane engine) Boom, boom, boom.

The plane won't stop.

And then I pass where the badminton net used to be, okay?

And there's a big barn in front of us and this man thinks he's gonna go to heaven right away.

But what happens is this: fortunately, God was watching over me, and I had three tractor trailer truckloads of chicken manure dumped on the ground.

So the plane hits the manure, okay?

Now you know what hit the fan.

(imitates explosion) Okay?

(audience laughs) So now we got to get out of the plane, and the manure is up to here, and we get out, okay?

We get out of the manure, and we got to pull the plane out.

That man didn't speak to me all the way back, either.

(audience laughs) So then it gets about, maybe, I don't fly the plane for about six months.

And I'm a lawyer and a busy guy, and a lot of things on my mind, a lot of things on my mind.

And I said, "Well, I better fly the plane, "because if I don't fly the plane, it's gonna get rusty, like a car."

So I go down to the airport, and they got this little piece of paper tells you how to, you know, what you got to do: check the magnetos, check the oil, check everything.

And, boom, I start the engine, it starts right up; the plane remembered how to fly.

So now I get down to the airport.

I take off.

(imitates plane engine) It takes off easy, no problem, and I'm flying up around 2,000 feet, and it's starting to rain.

And I'm thinking that my family all dies, burials in the rain, it's raining, and I'm getting kind of, it's kind of dark, and I'm getting kind of, like, "What am I doing in this plane?"

So I says, "It's time to land this plane."

So, all of a sudden, I go back to the airport, and then I'm getting ready to land, and folks, I, I sort of forgot.

Uh, you have a thing called a carburetor heat, do you push it in or pull it out?

I couldn't remember.

So, fortunately, in the front seat of the plane, I had a book on how to fly a plane.

So I, I read the book, How to Fly the Plane.

(stammering): And I saw what I had to do.

I landed the plane at the airport, I walked into the control tower, I handed the man the keys, and I said, "Find somebody else that's having a midlife crisis, and tell them to have a great adventure."

(applauding) ♪ ♪ BUTTON: My name is Linda Button and I live in the Boston area.

I head up, uh, communications for a large nonprofit.

I have two kids, and three stepkids, and, um, a wonderful partner.

And I understand that your writing has appeared in The New York Times and Boston magazine, and you're currently working on a memoir.

What sparked your interest in storytelling?

I used to like fiction, and then life kind of tapped on my shoulder and said, "I can do one better."

You tend to include humor in your stories.

Can you talk about your approach to that, and when do you find it most challenging?

BUTTON: You know, humor, I think it's like that really important spice in any dish, because life is so absurd sometimes.

But I also find, in the writing side, it's the hardest part.

So, after I write a draft, I'll go through and look at opportunities for humor as almost a layer to put onto something.

I'm waiting for my husband at Logan Airport.

This is many years ago on a bright, busy day.

Everyone in a suit has already boarded the plane, and I am alone, pacing, yelling into my phone, wondering where the blank my husband is.

We cannot miss this flight.

We have a meeting with our biggest client, this enormous cable company based in Philadelphia.

You see, my husband and I run an ad agency together, and we've been married about 20 years, so this is a familiar situation.

Now, my husband, he is the charming half of us as a couple.

He's that guy at the party that everyone gathers around, drinks mid-sip, enthralled with whatever story he's telling.

I am the worrywart half of the couple; the martyr.

(laughs) (audience laughs) The one who's, like, "No, I don't need any help."

So my husband woos clients, I write ads, and that's not a bad balance for a business or a marriage, but lately, the balance has been a little off.

We also have completely different relationships with time.

I measure minutes by the teaspoon.

That's how I keep our lives glued together.

My husband, on the other hand, considers deadlines suggestions.

He is always late, but never this late, and not for such an important client.

I used to love that moment in flight where you're-- the tires lift off the tarmac and the whole world spills out in front of you.

That ended the day we had our first child, and suddenly I'm, like, "Oh, yeah, someone needs me back on Earth."

So, now, at the slightest bump, I grab onto the arm of my husband or whoever is sitting next to me, and I weep with relief on landing.

This is all going through my head as I'm walking back and forth, and the gate attendant, that woman has been watching me.

She calls over, "It's time."

So I hoist on my backpack, and I hand her my ticket, she scans the seating chart.

"Oh, we have one seat left in first class.

Shall I upgrade you for free?"

First class?

Free?

I, I don't even know what to say, when suddenly I feel my husband right behind me.

"See?"

he says, "I made it!"

He always does.

And he is all smiles and charm, and no apology, as usual.

"First class?"

she says again.

"Yes."

(audience laughs and applauds) "Yeah."

"Yes, thank you."

And it dawns on my husband that I have been offered something that does not include him.

(audience chuckles) "What?"

he says.

"You're, you're going to abandon me in coach alone?"

"You bet."

(audience laughs and applauds) That's what he gets, always being late, right?

So I walk on the jetway, and I find my seat in first class, and my husband trudges behind me with the bags and disappears into coach.

The first class attendant swooshes the curtains together and secures them.

Another one offers me a tray of champagne.

I unfold that secret little table in the armrest, smooth out the cloth napkin, and take a glass.

(whispers harshly): "Psst!

Lin!"

(audience chuckles) My husband has poked his head through the curtain.

(audience laughs) He looks a little like Jack Nicholson, you know, in The Shining?

(audience laughs) And then he says, in this deep, God-like voice, as if he is summoning the powers of the universe, "You will be punished."

(audience laughs) And he smiles, so I know he's teasing, and I tilt my glass at him, and the flight attendant shoo-shoos him away.

(audience laughs) I open a book and settle in.

We're just outside of Philadelphia, when the pilot comes on, and announces that everyone should buckle up because we're headed into bumpy air.

I look out the window and, sure enough, there is a wall of black clouds barreling toward us.

But for once, I am not afraid, because I'm in first class.

(audience laughs) Nothing can hurt me there.

I open my book again and resume reading.

(shouting): Bang!

Was that a bomb?

The, the plane jumps!

The lights flare bright white and then, psst, go out completely!

We are rocking like a Tilt-A-Whirl.

I look over to the flight attendants for reassurance and they look stricken.

Someone is screaming!

Oh, that's me.

(audience laughs) I'm screaming.

Oh, I'm, I'm still screaming.

And, then... (exhales): The flight levels out, lights flicker back on, and the flight attendant smooths her uniform and picks up the mic and says, "Well, folks, "first class just got hit by a little lightning.

"Nothing to worry about.

This happens all the time."

(audience laughs) This does not happen all the time.

I have flown so many business flights through storms and over mountains.

This has never, ever happened to me before.

(whispering harshly): "Psst!

Lin!"

(audience laughs) There's my husband.

"See?"

he says.

"Told ya."

(audience laughs) Wow.

He really does have the entire cosmos on his side.

And maybe I shouldn't have taken that seat in first class.

We land, and we're rolling our bags through the airport, laughing at what just happened because it was remarkable.

And as he's sort of savoring the story again, and going through each detail, I sense glee in his voice.

He thinks I deserved what happened.

And maybe I did.

But not what he thinks happened.

I deserved that moment of kindness that the woman at the gate offered to me.

The odds of getting hit by lightning are one in 1,000 hours of flight time.

And you know what?

I feel really lucky I got hit.

I survived one of my worst fears.

I landed, I got back to my kids safely, and I learned maybe not to worry so much.

I also learned that, if you're lucky, and you play your cards right, some of life's lessons come with free champagne.

(audience laughs) Thank you.

(cheer and applaud) ♪ ♪