Without knowing which way the clueless pilot of a small prop plane was going, the American Airlines pilots had to divert from their flight path to avoid a midair collision. John kept on climbing. At 5,500 feet, despite warnings of extreme haze, John didn’t turn on his autopilot. He didn’t hug the lit-up coastline. Instead, he turned right and went out over the Atlantic, and before he knew it the sea and sky had turned into one seamless black mass and he couldn’t tell up from down.
