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"Are we done with this interview? I don't want to talk to you anymore."

David Neeleman, the founder and CEO of JetBlue, glares at me from across the small round table in his office in Forest Hills, New York. It's 50 minutes into the conversation, and he's burdened, testy, exhausted. "Look, I haven't slept in three weeks," he says. "I'm tired of talking. Emotionally, I am done … I just want to go out and run the company."

I've come to pick Neeleman's brain on trust, crisis, and redemption. In its notorious Valentine's Day debacle, his airline suffered a startling breakdown due to 2 inches of ice at New York's JFK Airport. More than 1,000 cancellations. Massive delays. Passengers stuck on planes for up to nine hours. And it all played out, unfortuitously, in the media capital of the world. It took nearly a week for JetBlue to return operations to normal.

No surprise that Neeleman wants to put what he calls "the event" behind him. "For the 15th time, we've learned from this," he says. "That's why it's never going to happen again."

He knows, of course, that it's not as easy as that. Eventually, even good companies screw up. They lose track of Social Security numbers, release buggy software, manufacture faulty cars. And customers are watching, trying to decide whether or not to forgive. In this precarious and very public moment, companies and leaders reveal what they're made of.

I already have some sense of what Neeleman is made of. I first wrote about JetBlue in 2004 and have followed the company since. "You built this airline," I say. "What's it like to--"

"Of course, I'm disappointed," Neeleman jumps in. "Bitterly disappointed. I built a great business, and I have great people working for me… . You're overdoing it. Delta screwed people for two days, and we did it for three and a half, okay? So go ask Delta what they did about it. Why don't you grill them?"

Because Delta is not JetBlue. Neither is American. The fact that those airlines stranded customers during the storm isn't surprising. They simply met the public's low expectations. JetBlue is an airline that aspires to be better than the majors--humane and, well, fun. It has low fares yet still offers amenities such as leather seats and TVs in the seat backs. The service is more personable, the employees' enthusiasm palpable.

So February's fiasco presents JetBlue with a unique problem--and an opportunity. The problem is removing doubts. Can it handle unpredictable and severe weather? Is the low-cost operation too lean to accommodate the fast growth that has made JetBlue the eighth-largest airline in just seven years? If the solution is beefing up personnel and systems, how does JetBlue keep fares low? How does it set itself apart?