Following is the text of an e-mail I sent to American Airlines.

Dear Customer Relations,

Several weeks ago, I made a reservation for my husband, my three-year-old son, my ten-month-old son, and me to travel from Boston to Tulsa, Oklahoma via Dallas-Ft. Worth. Since my older son is allergic to peanuts, two weeks before departure, I called the reservations desk to speak to an agent to request that no peanuts be served on either flight.

The agent told me, “American Airlines doesn’t serve peanuts on its flights anymore. We haven’t done that for years. There are too many people with peanut allergies.”

The night before departure, I called the reservation desk again to confirm the information I had received. Another agent told me, “I can guarantee you we won’t be serving peanuts on any plane. American Airlines doesn’t serve peanuts any more, just pretzels.”

Half an hour before departure for the first leg of the flight, Flight #887, I asked the gate agent to confirm that no peanuts would be served on the plane. He said, “I’m pretty sure they don’t have peanuts, but I need to check with the flight attendants. Remind me again before we depart, would you?”

Now, the fact that you have a gate agent who couldn’t keep my request in his head for twenty-five minutes was some cause for concern, but I trusted that the two original agents I spoke to had the correct information. My trust was bolstered by the fact that I’ve flown an average of four times a month for the past ten years, and the only time I’ve been offered peanuts in recent memory was on long-haul flights to Europe in business class. In fact, in coach it’s a minor miracle if you’re offered anything to eat.

Nonetheless, as the flight attendants made their way through the cabin with the snack service, we were offered a lunch-for-purchase that contained a package of mixed nuts.

I asked the flight attendant to refrain from selling any more of the boxed lunches, because my son was allergic to peanuts. She told me she couldn’t do that. I explained that I had called to request a no-peanuts service and was assured that there would be no nuts served on the plane. She told me that I had received the wrong information—implying by her tone that it was somehow my fault for obtaining it—and said that the only reliable source of information for what would be served on a plane was the flight crew, “And I’m telling you, now, that we ALWAYS have nuts on the flight to Dallas.” And then she declined to infringe upon the rights of other passengers by withholding the lunch boxes from them, saying it was too late anyway, because people in the front of the plane were already opening the packages.

I told her that she was well within her rights to refuse my request, and that I was certain her superiors and the other passengers would appreciate her slavish devotion to company regulations when the plane was diverted to Indiana for my son’s medical emergency.

She thought about it for a minute and, in an unprecedented flash of good sense, acceded to my request.

She was far from gracious about it, though. She berated me throughout the flight, saying that no one could guarantee me a peanut-free environment, that the flight to Dallas ALWAYS had nuts on it, and that the rules forbade the flight attendants from making reasonable accommodations.

Later, when I walked my younger son to the front of the plane to give him some exercise, she was sitting in the jump seat eating a peanut butter sandwich. I politely asked her to wash her hands after eating so she wouldn’t touch something that my son would later touch, and she shot back that she always washes her hands BEFORE she eats. I don’t think she’s really clear on the food allergy concept. Do you?

Now, I understand that American Airlines cannot make an absolute guarantee of a peanut-free environment. Not even my son’s school, which bans peanuts, can be certain that another child won’t bring in a snack made with peanut oil. I do, however, expect that American will not go out of its way to kill my son with peanut dust in an enclosed environment. I think you should stop serving peanuts on all your flights; if you are that closely bound with the peanut-industrial complex, then at the very least I would expect you to honor a request to forbear the peanut service GRACIOUSLY and PROMPTLY (i.e., before the flight takes off, not midway through). Even if you cannot see the business value in this middle course, then I would, at least, expect the flight attendant to refrain from hectoring me for my inconvenient decision to travel with my peanut-allergic son.

I just don’t get it. It’s not a matter of civil rights; I don’t have the RIGHT to ask you to change your practices. But from your standpoint, it’s purely a business issue. Close to 1% of American children are thought to be allergic to peanuts. Allergic reactions cause approximately 100 deaths and 15,000 emergency room visits a year. Thanksgiving is a time when many families travel with their children. Do you really want one of those allergic reactions to occur in one of your tin cans in the sky, 30,000 vertical feet from the ER? In the current business climate, would a preventable holiday death on an airplane be good for business? I didn’t go to B-school, but I think even I can figure that one out, unlike your hapless flight attendant.

There were at least five infants under the age of one on that plane. Most parents of infants have no idea whether their child is allergic to peanuts, because we’re cautioned not to expose the child until as late as possible. Thus, there are parents out there with peanut-allergic children who are not prepared with a phalanx of Epipens, as we are. Their children could die in the air tomorrow if no one else on the plane has an Epipen to share. (And, frankly, I would be terrified to give up my child’s Epipen when the air was thick with peanut dust, which is why I carry extra; can you imagine being put in that position?)

I call upon you to stop serving peanuts on your planes immediately; train your flight attendants on the seriousness of food allergies; and begin making reasonable accommodations to food-allergic passengers who request them. After all, in twenty-five to thirty years, that 1% of American children will be 1% of your business and first-class passengers.