We don't care much for plane crashes around here, particularly by airlines on which we are of practically elite status (translation: we enjoy benefits woefully disproportionate to the effort expended to achieve those benefits, such as traveling to Saudi Arabia and Pakistan). We especially don't like them when people die, despite Captain Sully-esque efforts to prevent greater loss of life.
For us, Turkish Airlines has always been an island of competence in a sea of Turknology. The planes are new and clean, we never have to get to the airport more than 90 minutes before a flight because the lines move quickly, delays are rare, the food and service are acceptable, we can be home 50 minutes after landing, (memo to American air travelers: it doesn't have to be that way!), there are never people vomiting in the aisles and we have never once heard of drunk pilots (memo to FSU air travelers: it doesn't have to be that way!).
Most importantly, the red and white Turkish Airlines logo at an airport in some post-Soviet shithole always communicates an important and reassuring message to us: "You can get out here with a minimum of hassle and likelihood of death or dismemberment." This inspires a degree of brand loyalty that we don't bestow on many products, particularly airlines. Crashes tend to undermine this perception, however. We're pretty sure that Turkish Airlines didn't take our brand image into consideration when it developed its current marketing campaign "Feel Like a Star" featuring Kevin Costner, since none of the ads' shots are from airports that look like concrete refugee camps.
So to see a Turkish 737 lying in pieces in a muddy Dutch field makes us sad and question whether perhaps our loyalty is misplaced. Alternatively, it also makes us think "at least it didn't happen in Bishkek."