As darkness fell, the frogs began their insistent chorus. Over the black waters rustled the murmurous night noises of the Florida swamp where the big Eastern Airliner lay. She lay sprawled just as she had slewed into the water at 9 o'clock that morning, her big engines jerked from their mounts and dropped near her left wing tip in the mud. Inside her cabin, water was knee-deep, but the lights still burned. Huddled on the seats were 13 passengers, two pilots, a steward.
Nobody had been killed but everyone had been hurt. Shaken...
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