In a field just about 40 or 50 feet away from me, an airplane is crashing. It seems suspended for a few seconds, nose straight down, only a few feet from the ground, and then plunges into the dirt and explodes as if it were going at full speed. I dive under a picnic table to shield myself from the flying debris. Some people are with me, and I wonder if they thought about such debris, but I don't have time to tell them that they should take cover, as shrapnel from the explosion rains down everywhere.