No more fear: there is help for fearful fliers; and there are millions who need it.

LISTENING TO HEARTH RAZAA EXPOUND on the joys of flying is like hearing a religious zealot preach salvation. And no wonder: Razaa was once one of the estimated 30 million people who are afraid to fly. But, in 1989, he found spiritual freedom in American Airlines AAirBorn--a two-day class that teaches the terrified to fly without fear--and he hasn't stopped spreading the word since.

Razaa, who is founder and CEO of Aero Marine Products Inc., a Baton Rouge, La.-based manufacturer of insulation for ships and aircraft, wasn't always afraid. To the contrary, as a field representative for a federal energy conservation program in the early '80s, he was one of the agency's most prolific travelers and, he adds, "I loved it."

Then, one day in 1984, Razaa had to fly from Chicago to Philadelphia--a routine business trip he had taken countless times. But this time, before the plane rolled onto the runway, Razaa panicked. "I felt a wave of fear," he recalls. "I got hot, couldn't breathe, couldn't sit, my heart was racing. I felt like God was telling me to get off."

With the plane taxiing, Razaa jumped up, grabbed his carry-on and told the flight attendant he had to go. Instructed to return to his seat, he flung open an overhead bin and started throwing its contents to the floor, at which point, he says, "they took me a little more seriously." He got off, waited and took the next plane, but it marked the beginning of a paranoia that would become steadily worse; eight months later, he stopped flying altogether.

If you've never been afraid to fly, Razaa's story probably doesn't compute. Everyone's heard it's the safest way to travel--far less risky than driving a car, a boat or even walking down a busy city street. But Razaa's experience is shared by millions, myself included. The onset of my problem lacked the drama of Razaa's, but it was no less debilitating. Like many others, I felt my first phobic pang shortly after a significant event in my life: my 1988 engagement. By the time my honeymoon rolled around two years later, I was dreading the five-hour flight to Barbados and wanting to trade my first-class ticket in for a seat in the last row, believing--irrationally--that I'd be safer there. It proved the first argument of my married life--and I lost.

Millions of the fearful refuse to fly. Among the notables are Aretha Franklin and sportscaster John Madden. Even more travel with varying degrees of discomfort, ranging from mild concern to outright anguish. Most panic in obscurity, never realizing how common and treatable their problem is. But in today's world, where doing business requires frequent shuttling between states and even continents, the costs of unchecked aviaphobia can be far greater than a missed pleasure trip abroad.

"We've met people who have passed up promotions, lost jobs or come very close to it because they would not fly," says Sandra Brown, a former fearful flier who conceived of AAirBorn and has led the classes for American since they began in 1989.

AIRPLANES DO NOT FALL

AAirBorn is one of several programs that now cater to this large market of reluctant passengers (see sidebar). I was relieved to find that in my class of 28, my case was relatively mild. Our first session was a 10-hour marathon of myth-busting led by a pilot, a flight attendant and a mechanic. "Airplanes do not drop, dive, plummet, plunge or fall," they declared. No matter how many stories you hear about air pockets causing near-disaster, "There is no such thing as an air pocket," said Dan Neufeld, an American Airlines pilot for 16 years.

Once they had us almost convinced, Sandra Brown and her psychologist husband, Duane, showed us some techniques to fight off panicky feelings. These included everything from creative visualization and rhythmic breathing to snapping ourselves with a rubber band every time we imagined the plane taking one of those impossible dives.

The second day's focus was a graduation flight-optional and tense--but generally completed by 93% of the students. In our group, four opted out of the roundtrip flight between New York and Nashville and they were, surprisingly, not the ones I'd predicted. Who are these students? They are usually professionals and mostly women, although males are on the rise. Antonio Johnson, 31, a publicity director at Virgin Records, was one of 12 men in my class and the only other African-American.

Johnson, who travels regularly between New York and Los Angeles, had done so with mounting difficulty ever since a turbulent 1992 flight. Unlike most of us, he sought help from his employer, and Virgin paid for him to take the class. Last November, Johnson flew to St. Martin using frequent flier miles he was in jeopardy of losing. It was his first vacation in almost two years.

RAZAA'S RECOVERY

Fearful fliers are typically perfectionistic, creative and bright, say the Browns. By the time they reach out for help, they usually have a specific motivator. For Johnson and me, it was our careers, which mandated frequent long-distance travel. Razaa--whose inability to fly ultimately threatened his job--presented a more difficult case. He was deeply cynical, believing that nothing could cure him.

Before he gave up flying, Razaa had developed an impressive repertoire of pre-flight routines: "I tracked the weather," he says. "I would get to the airport early to watch the plane come in and make sure it wasn't leaking oil. I needed to look into the faces of the mechanics." He had also resorted to the fearful fliers' most popular curatives: heavy doses of alcohol and over-the-counter drugs.

He had resorted to driving between appointments, an absurd endeavor that sent bad signals to his supervisors. Even when they confronted him, Razaa would not admit to his fear. "For black men especially, there's that macho thing," he explains.

Taking American's class was "the hardest thing I've ever done," Razaa says now. Walking to board the graduation flight from Chicago to Milwaukee "was like walking to my execution. I was scared, but I was able to calm myself. And when I got back, I was free."

Within a year, Razaa, now 41, racked up 50,000 miles. So impressed was he with his own turnaround that Razaa paid for a friend, Carla Carmouche Rogers, to take the class. As a consultant with Chicago's U Travel Hyde Park, Rogers organized trips for hundreds of clients, but booked only train tickets for herself. Since AAirBorn, Rogers, 36, has gone to Atlanta, New York and Paris--and not on Amtrak. A claustrophobic who is also afraid of heights, Rogers still takes her written AAirBorn materials on flights, "just in case." But now she relishes trips, instead of dreading them. Echoing her mentor Razaa, she says happily, "I'm free." Thankfully, so am I.

WHERE TO LOOK FOR HELP

There are a myriad of local programs available throughout the country. To find out about the offerings nearest your home, call your local airport or travel agent. A comprehensive source for programs, books, tapes and professional help is The Fearful Flyers Resource Guide, edited by Barry Elkus with Murray E. Tieger, Ph.D. (Argonaut Entertainment, Cincinnati, Ohio 1993, $13.95). For a more lighthearted approach to coping, pick up How to Fly by Natalie Windsor (Corkscrew Press, 1993, $5.95), a pocketbook packed with distraction for use at 30,000 feet.

Nationally offered seminars include: AMERICAN AIRLINES AAIRBORN Intensive two-day seminars held at airports nationwide; $395; 800-451-5106. PEGASUS FEAR OF FLYING FOUNDATION Nine-hour seminar held at airports and corporate training facilities. Will travel to any location worldwide where 10 people have signed up; $350; 800-332-7668. USAIR'S FEARFUL FLIERS PROGRAM Five three-hour sessions--one a week--held at airports in 12 major cities; $325; 412-366-8112.