We'd almost made it back to earth when the pilot's voice crackled over the cabin speaker. Night fog. Crash conditions. It was the Saturday night after Thanksgiving and our flight into the Twin Cities airport was already hours late. The plane circled several times--spending fuel, waiting for the weather to break--then finally gave up. We broke orbit and headed northwest for Fargo, across that stretch of flyover land that from the air, once the fog cleared, looked more like the sky than the sky did--constellations of rural towns, the Mississippi like a Milky Way, and the lone star of a... More >>>