What began as a disturbing suspicion aboard a flight from Chicago to Miami turned into an investigation that uncovered photographs of dozens of women, personal information gathered from social media, and evidence suggesting the man had been watching some of them long before they ever boarded a plane.
The first photograph on his phone was of me.
It wasn’t taken on the airplane.
It was taken at the gate in Chicago.
I was standing in line for coffee, my back turned, completely unaware that anyone was paying attention to me.
The next photograph showed me sitting near the airport’s charging stations.
Then there was a picture of my carry-on bag.
After that came a close-up of my luggage tag.
My name was clearly visible.
For a moment, I couldn’t breathe.
“That’s me,” I said.
The airport police officer holding the phone turned toward the man sitting across from him.
“You took these before you boarded?”
The man shrugged as though the question were perfectly ordinary.
“I take pictures when I travel.”
The officer swiped to the next image.
Then his expression changed.
“Dear God…”
I instinctively stepped backward.
There were dozens of other women on the screen. Possibly hundreds.
Some were walking through airport terminals. Others were sleeping aboard airplanes or sitting alone at departure gates, waiting for their flights.
Several photographs had been taken from angles that made it difficult to believe the women knew they were being photographed at all.
But the images were only part of what the officers discovered.
Beneath some of the photographs were screenshots of social media profiles, along with names, workplaces and the cities where the women lived.
Later, investigators would discover a folder labeled TRAVELING ALONE.
My name is Jessica. I’m 29 years old, and until the previous Friday, my biggest concern about flying was whether the passenger in front of me would recline their seat.
I was traveling from Chicago to Miami to visit my best friend, Lauren.
I had no reason to believe the trip would become an experience I would struggle to forget.
The flight was packed. I had a window seat, with a woman named Denise sitting beside me and a college student wearing headphones occupying the aisle seat.
About 20 minutes after takeoff, I noticed a man several rows ahead of me, across the aisle, holding his phone in an unusual way.
He wasn’t holding it up like someone taking a normal photograph.
Instead, he kept it low, partially concealed near his chest, with the camera pointed in my direction.
