Jess' Journeys // July 28, 2008
Nine years ago today I was in the middle of what is
literally one of the longest days of my life so far.
July 27 was the last day for staff at the summer camp I was
working at in Maine. We got up around 7, took care of all of the last bits of
housekeeping business, got our paychecks, and boarded the bus to the airport in
Manchester, New Hampshire. Everything was going fine, and despite the 3 hours
of sleep, everyone was in good spirits…until we got to the airport.
We pulled into the airport and unloaded our luggage from the
van. Mine consisted of my giant bag, my smaller carry-on bag, and the messenger
bag I used as a laptop bag. Of course as soon as I went to get out of the van
the strap on my messenger bag broke. My laptop was fine, but there was no space
in the other bags to cram it, so I ended up carrying it under my arm for the
rest of the adventure.
There were huge storms across the entire eastern side of the
country. One of the girls got lucky and her flight was cancelled either right
before we got there or right after, so the airline booked a hotel room for her.
The rest of our flights just kept getting postponed. To put the timeline in
perspective, we got to the airport a little before 2pm. Most of the staff was
flying to Florida, and one guy was flying into Atlanta. I was flying to
Birmingham with a layover in Philadelphia.
My flight to was supposed to be at 5pm, but by the time I saw
the board around 2:30, it was already listed it as leaving somewhere around 7pm.
Thus began the waiting.
We hadn’t eaten lunch, so that was the first order of
business. Slight issue there. Quiznos was out of bread (they did eventually get
some buns from the nearby McDonald’s to use) and wasn’t planning to obtain
more. McDonald’s was out of burger patties. Whatever, I don’t care. I ate my mcnuggets,
drank my orange Hi-C, and chilled in the McDonald’s seating area with a couple
of the other counselors. Then we all went off to sit at our separate gates just
in case they cancelled our flights or offered any sort of advice about what to
do. I’m really glad we ate when we did. By the end of the night, I was hearing
rumors that there was nothing left at the McDonald’s either.
I settled into my chair at the gate and hung out. This was
before I had an iPhone and long before all of the really fun cell phone apps. I
read my book for a little while, and then I started chatting with the lady
sitting next to me. She and a couple of other ladies were on their way to a
knitting convention. I had no idea those even existed. Looking back, I really
wish I’d asked her to show me how to knit. We became travel buddies for the
night.
Finally around 9, our flight gets clearance to board, and
off we go to Philadelphia. The airline had assured us that they were holding
the flight from Philadelphia to Birmingham because half of that flight was on
our plane. The airline also assured my mother that if anything happened and I
got stuck in the Philadelphia overnight, they’d be providing a hotel room for
her teenage daughter. These were both lies.
We landed in Philadelphia, got off the plane, and watched as
the plane we were supposed to be on taxied away from the gate and took off. Off
we all go to the little counter to get our flights re-scheduled. Finally around
11 it was my turn at the desk. They told me the next flight to Birmingham was
at 4pm the next day. I mention the hotel room, and they tell me all of the
rooms are already booked. There’s no sympathy happening here. These people were
over it, and I really don’t blame them. The best the girl could do was to get
me on a 7am flight to Dallas the next morning which where I would change planes
and fly to Birmingham, getting there around 2pm. Fine, whatever.
Here’s the little details she left out. The Philadelphia
airport shuts down at night. I mean everything shuts down. There’s no food, the
moving sidewalks turn off, and the guys come in to clean/buff the floors. We were
in Concourse E. The 7am flight was in Concourse A, and on a different airline. I
get my revised ticket, and meet back up with my travel buddy. She’s going to be
on a different flight out, but we’re going to hang out in this now empty &
half-lit airport together for the night.
Next comes the box of pillows and “blankets” the airline is
oh so generously providing for us to sleep with in the closed terminal. The
pillows are the tiny pillows you get on planes, and the “blankets” were those
thin metallic emergency blankets that you carry into the woods in case you get
stranded. They tell us we are allowed to get one of each. No. You can tell me
that all day long, but it’s not happening. I took my two pillows, three
tin-foil blankets, and walked away.
My buddy and I find a corner away from the group to make our
little camp. I put my carry-on bag in the corner, lay the first “blanket” on
the floor, sit my laptop bag on top of it, stack my pillows on top of the laptop,
lay down, and cover myself with the second “blanket”. It’s around midnight now.
Then the floor buffing & vacuuming starts. Oh joy. I didn’t sleep at all,
just laid there, until finally some lights started coming back on, around 5am.
Once the lights were on, I gathered my stuff back together
and I walked all the way to Concourse A. When I got there, the girl at the desk
told me I wasn’t listed on the flight. I told her the situation, and she said
that US Airways (the original airline) hadn’t finished some sort of paperwork.
She called their desk, and they said that they’d have the paperwork ready when
I got back over to Concourse E. So back I go.
I walked all the way back through the airport to Concourse
E. I got my new paperwork. I made the girl at that desk call the American
Airlines (the new airline) desk in Concourse A and confirm that everything was
handled. I get the “good to go”.
I started to walk back. Then a miracle happens. A baggage
handler that had seen me walking back-and-forth and cursing to myself told me
that he would give me a ride in his cart back to Concourse A. Hell yeah. No
hesitation whatsoever from me. He takes my bags, holds the employee door open
for me, walks me onto the tarmac, drives me to Concourse A, unloads my stuff,
and opens the door for me.
It’s about 6:30 now, so the airport is officially open and
bustling with activity. I get to the American Airlines desk, hand the new man
the paperwork, and he tells me that THE FLIGHT IS FULL AND THERE IS NO SEAT
LEFT FOR ME. At this point, I just lost it. I started trying to explain what
happened, but all that came out of my mouth were weird high-pitched noises and
I started crying, full-on meltdown level crying, hyperventilating and all. He
looked like a deer in headlights. The other person at the desk, and older
woman, pushed him aside, told me “Don’t worry honey, we’ll take care of it”,
and managed to get me onto the flight. You know what she did? She bumped some
businessman in a full suit off to make room for me. How do I know this? I
watched her tell him that he was bumped.
So she gets my seat handled, then she took cash out of her
own pocket and told me to go get something to eat. She told me not to worry
about my bags and tucked them behind the desk. I went to the bathroom to change
clothes, and I bought a cinnamon roll, the first food I’d had since the
previous afternoon. I walked back to the gate, and before they let anyone else
board, she took my luggage and walked me onto the plane. She loaded my bags
into the bin and made sure I was seated before they started letting anyone else
on. I didn’t even make it through the safety instructions. I just held my
un-eaten cinnamon roll in my lap, leaned back on my headrest, and fell asleep,
waking up just in time to change planes in Dallas.
When we landed, I ran & took the little shuttle as fast
as I possibly could across the Dallas airport. I got to the gate just in time
to board my flight to Birmingham, stored my bag in the bin, and crashed back
out until we landed in Birmingham.
You know what happened next? My giant bag with all of my
real clothes in it didn’t show up in the luggage carousel. It had gotten lost
somewhere in the Philadelphia airport, but American Airlines assured me they
would find it and send it to me. Whatever. I didn’t believe them, but I didn’t
care at this point. It’s almost 3pm, and I’m just ready to be home.
We get in the car, and my mom calls my dad to tell him she’s
got me. I didn’t really know what they were talking about, but when she said “no,
I haven’t told her yet”, that got my interest. I thought someone had died. No
one died. My puppy that I’d had since I was 8 had a tiny doggie seizure. He was
alive but he was confined to a kennel to give him time to recover.
We got to her house, and I just crashed. I slept from the
time we got home that afternoon until the next morning. It was glorious.
American Airlines also delivered my giant bag to my mother’s
house the next day, safe and sound.
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| My "bed" in the Philadelphia airport |
