Just got back from a 7 week sabbatical. It was absolutely terrific. A trip to Europe and then outings on the East Coast to Philadelphia, New York, Chicago, and Washington D.C. Family, friends, laughter and shared experience. Thousands of miles traveled on land and in air and between June 6th and July 18th I had flown seventeen flights (including three with my whole family - all six of us). All easy and uneventful. Until...July 19th: We departed D.C. at 2 PM for our 1 hour journey to BWI (Baltimore). I would drop off the rental car and we would check in and wait for our 5:30 PM flight. Our first sign of trouble was a normal happening on the East Coast in the summer... thunder storms. Our departure for ATL would be delayed till 8:30 PM. I met a guy in line... it was his 44th birthday and he was heading home to Atlanta for a party... he just kept saying "I'm missing my party, there's balloons and an ice cream cake." I felt bad for him... I offered him a sleeve of oreo cookies if we didn't make it out. He wasn't impressed.
Then an announcement came over the intercom "the captain would like to get the plane loaded so we can get out as soon as possible." Apparently Air Traffic Control was releasing planes off the runway. So, we boarded quickly only to sit on the runway for an hour. Guess the captain was mistaken.
We arrived in Atlanta, GA at 9:30 PM as the jetway door closed for our next plane bound for Portland, OR ... which then departed... without us.... all six of us Clements. So at 9:37 PM I entered the queue for a chance to speak with a representative who would be re-booking "all six of us" on the next available flight to PDX. 2 hours later I had moved 30 feet closer to the front of the line and my family (THANKFULLY) had been picked up by an ANGEL (cleverly disguised as a second cousin, who lived 20 minutes from the airport, whom I had never previously met) to go and bed down for the night... because there was "no room in the inn" and certainly nothing available at the Hampton. (by the way I love Hampton Inn's beds... very comfy)
At 12:30 AM (July 20th) I found out that the soonest we could get seats would be on a flight on Sunday, July 22nd at 8:47 am. Our luggage would beat us home by two whole days. Or we could fly standby through Cincinnati, Detroit, LAX... you get the not-so-pretty picture. So we determined to come back for the standby at 11:15 AM the following day. After a quick night's rest and a serendipitously wonderful breakfast with our "new" family, we rejoined the ranks of the the many, the frustrated, the air travelers.
9:45 AM (July 20th) Security check went well, a quick walk, a short line at the gate, a long list of those wanting to go back to Portland. 40 people in all standing by... we were in queue as 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11. Only one guy made it off the list and onto the plane... the rest of us could have each had a different flavor at Baskin Robbins. (incidentally, Mint Chip is my favorite flavor.)
11:15 AM (July 20th) In yet another line. Talk on the phone to a Delta representative. She confirmed what every agent had told me... "your best bet is to keep that flight on Sunday AM". Then I met WILLIAM B. I think "B" stood for "brilliant" or "better" or maybe just "Brown"... doesn't matter, William B. got us 6 "confirmed" seats on a flight leaving at 2:30 PM bound for DFW (Dallas-Fort Worth) with a "connecting flight" to PDX leaving at 9:30 PM.
2:30 PM (Friday, July 20th) We used our food vouchers for a nice lunch at Chili's too! then boarded the flight bound for home.
5:30 PM We arrive at DFW... quickly to a gate to "CONFIRM" our seats... "3 seats confirmed... 2 more confirmed... nope this last passenger will have to fly standby... " 8 year old Samuel. We told him we'd be sure he had enough money to eat on in case he didn't make it on. He was less than impressed. We were then notified that because we had changed airlines from Delta to "God Bless American!" We would have to go through TSA screening.... No Problem...
6:30 PM Enter the security line... only 5 people in front of us.... but there is one lady with 6 quart sized zip lock bags full of miscellaneous liquids... mostly cologne and perfume. FINALLY, she made it through. Samuel goes through, then me, then Aly, Claire, Hope then Erica. Whew! Then TSA Joe behind the computer screen says "I've got a bag check". We then (all six of us) entered into a very formal, regulated, thorough screening of our carry-on bags and our bodies. I just kept chuckling... and saying "unbelievable..."
7:15 PM A nice dinner at TGiFriday's (never caught the irony in that until just now.)
9:30 PM -- on the flight to PDX in the very back of the plane... but thankful to be there.
11:10 PM -- (incidentally according to our east coast body clocks it's 2 AM) Arrival in PDX along with 4,000 tan families arriving from Hawaii... all cheery and chatty because it's only 6 PM on their body clocks. We found our 8 pieces of luggage... good... except we had 10 bags... a few more inquiries and voila... two more bags. They seemed happy to be reunited with us.
12:35 AM (Saturday, July 21st) Hotel shuttle finally arrives to take us back to our car. The car is still there... we load all the luggage... the kids (who have been absolutely great) get in the car and literally pass out. I fall into the driver's seat prepared for a 2 hour drive home. Emergency brake off, gear to reverse, a look over the shoulder... HEADING HOME!
1 AM Weird noise...actually familiar weird noise... scraping, metallic, flat tire. I pulled back into the parking space, gear into Park. Walked to the front desk right through the Friday night Hotspot Bar at the Airport Holiday Inn. They don't sell fix-a-flat's in the gift shop nor do they have air compressors in the parking lot. THEN.. a 40 something man on a cell phone overhears my dilemma and offers his car for my transport to somewhere to get a fix a flat. We walk to his car, he gives me the keys, he gets in the passenger side, I drive him to the front entrance, he gets out and I'm on my way. I find a fix a flat at an AM/PM, return to the hotel, put his keys in the gas cap door (as directed) FIX the flat... and we're off.
1:30 PM --- only 2 more hours. 1hour and 45 minutes later. I am awakenend by a slap across my face. A self-inflicted wound. That's when Erica stepped in. I pulled off and she took over. I tried to stay awake...I did for 2.9 seconds.
3:30 PM - Home after 7 weeks. You think it was long reading this (or skimming this)... it was much longer living it.
But that's how it is with connecting flights... you have to be patient and constant in your pursuit... because your destination awaits.
