Thursday night on my flight from Anchorage to Seattle, I had the privilege of sitting next to a fascinating woman.

Nadia was the embodiment of the connector, an immediate friend, what Tipping Point author Malcom Gladwell calls those amazing people who “link us up with the world … people with a special gift for bringing the world together.”

She was an Italian/Somalian woman, petite, with clear, caffe latte skin, beautiful long braids, a brilliant turquoise shirt, expressive hands and flashing eyes. Her accent was musical and her laughter frequent.

As she boarded last, as a standby passenger, she needed help with her lead-heavy rollaboard, stuffed stem-to-stern with frozen fish. After we all got it hoisted, perhaps unwisely, into the overhead compartment, she settled in and began telling stories.

Nadia fit no stereotypes. As youthful and exotic as she seemed, she immediately boasted of her three-quarters white grandchildren, showing off pictures of twin, blond haired, blue-eyed three-year-olds. She said she’d asked for a DNA test before providing them with financial and practical support, and yep, they were her descendants.

As the beverage cart rumbled by, she asked, “Do you have any Courvoisier?” She shrugged, and grinned sideways at me. “I’ve been stuck in Dutch Harbor for two years, and tonight I’m going to treat myself.” She bought the only two bottles of cognac on the plan.

She’d been working in the Aleutian Islands as a licensed security officer, inspecting personnel documentation and cargo. She was a polyglot, speaking Somalian, Italian, Spanish and Arabic, and had worked for Health and Human Services as a translator. She left social services after receiving one too many death threats after translating a denial of benefits decision.

She fumed about religion. “God doesn’t want his followers to kill people!” She blamed much war and strife in our world on it. Interestingly enough, she was a Jew, through her mother.

The young man in front of her was a tall, skinny Sudanese Christian refugee who’d fled persecution in his primarily Muslim homeland. He, too, had been in Dutch Harbor, working on a processing boat. Nadia teased him, calling him “Mr. Blue-Black” because of his intensely black skin. Nadia congratulated him; in spite of the lack of any education available to him in Sudan, he was now headed for Western Washington University, showing off his new student ID with great pride.

She spoke a little bit about the situation in Africa – the war-torn nations, religious persecution, human rights issues, extreme poverty, and complete lack of health care for all but the elite. After many years in the US, she was still sending much of her income home to her parents, sisters, brothers where it made all the difference in the world – she proudly showed me the telegrams.

In front of me sat Jamal, an immaculately-dressed African American financial planner in a custom made brown suit and matching top hat. He was on his way home from vacation; I’m sure he was dreading his return to the office, as this was the evening of the worst stock market crash in the last 50 years. It didn’t show. From the minute he boarded he was cheerful, kind, the consummate gentleman. He helped those around them with their luggage, called the flight attendants “Ma’am”, listened attentively to his seatmates, and was fascinated by the story of the two immigrants.

After some conversation, Nadia recognized him; he’d volunteered at a shelter near her DHS office, so they traded downtown Seattle stories.

Towards the end of the flight, she pulled out a lunch bag and shared some of her cooking with the small group around her – samosas (spicy stuffed fried rolls) and injera (ethiopian flatbread). They were delicious – the samosas, especially, filled with a spicy cumin onion lamb mixture.

Nadia, with her connection-making, story-telling, people-charming magic turned what could have been a boring flight, spent reading a book or watching a video, into a fascinating evening of expanded horizons and interesting people.

What was more striking to me, as a fledgling writer, was how she became the center of a web of stories – each person’s uniquely fascinating tale interconnecting because of this one evening’s shared flight.