On the plane arriving into Chicago, we touched down and felt the strong pressure of braking.  I was just thinking that it feels like we are going to run off the end of the runway.  Within 10 seconds, a man in my row spoke to his companion and said, “A southwest plane crashed here in XXXX, you know.  Yep, it was icy and it went off the end of the runway and through the wall and into the street.  It killed a couple in a car.” 

I sighed inside. So much for the illusion of peace and privacy in my own thoughts.