At the time this memory took place, my first marriage had ended. I had the opportunity to head out west, where one of my brothers had moved. I had no responsibilities to hold me back from this significant move. After receiving the invitation to go out west, it did not take long to decide to go.
I was still young enough that everything I owned could pretty much fit into a couple of suitcases. I packed it all up, and a friend drove me to the airport. This move was a significant experience of independence as I had never before flown on a plane by myself. To be truthful, I had only flown one other time. I was not familiar with airports or procedures inside an airport.
My friend came to the airport with me and showed me how to read a flight board posted periodically through this airport. He also went with me and walked me through the procedures of getting my ticket, turning in my luggage, and finding the gate where I was to board this flight.
While we walked through the airport, he walked up to another flight board and asked me to find my flight. I did find it and discovered that I had plenty of time to make it to the boarding gate. I was concerned because the flight information said I was landing in a state almost three-quarters of the way to my final destination. I had no clue why. He explained that it was practically a standard procedure for airlines to take a trip this far across the country and turn it into two flights. When he explained why my flight ended where it landed on the way to my destination, I would be getting off that plane and onto another to finish my journey. I reacted with alarm solely based on realizing I had no clue how to find my next flight. He calmly asked me for the ticket I was holding in my hand. He showed me where the flight number was and then showed me that the flight number had changed on the bottom half.
He looked at my panicked face and calmly told me to look for the second flight number on the flight board. It took a moment due to all the flights listed. When I found it, he pointed to the right side of the board and showed me where the flight was leaving (where my first flight landed), when it was leaving, and where and when it was landing. Surprisingly the second flight was only about an hour long.
The magnitude of leaving my home state to live across the country was finally starting to sink in, and I think the traveling alone was starting to scare me a little. I asked him what would happen if the flight was canceled. He chuckled and told me to stop over-reacting. Everything would be fine. I sheepishly said to him that I was so nervous because I was going to a place I did not know, and all I had was to my name were the two suitcases and $10.00.
By this time, they were calling my gate number, and it was time we parted. My friend gave me a kiss and a hug and told me he was really going to miss me. He made sure I had his number to call him when I arrived at my brother’s house, wished me a safe journey, and then left.
I made my way to the gate and boarded my flight. I sat down at the window seat listed on my ticket and prepared for takeoff. I chuckled at myself for requesting a window seat because since this was an evening flight, it was pitch dark outside.
The flight was long but uneventful. As I exited the plane into the airport, I immediately found one of the flight boards and looked up my flight number. I was feeling pretty confident by this time. As I looked across from my flight number, my confidence came crashing to an unbelievable halt as I read the word; “Canceled.” What?! Canceled? How could this be? I looked around and saw an attendant rushing by. I then happened to take in my surroundings and noticed there were many people everywhere, all rushing to somewhere else. I hurried after the airport attendant and caught up to her. I told her this was my first time flying and did not understand what the flight board meant by stating my flight was canceled. I was fortunate to have chosen a person who could recognize a potential panic attack.
She stopped walking and asked me what flight I was on. When I told her, she walked me over to the nearest flight board and confirmed that, yes, my flight was canceled. When I asked her if it was flying at a different time, her answer of “no” almost put me over the edge. Thankfully, she quickly explained that a solution to compensate for the cancelation was probably happening as we spoke. She guided me to a customer help counter where the lines were very long. As she was taking me there, she explained that canceled flights sometimes happen. It could be for several reasons. Knowing that the fault is theirs, the airline will usually have a different flight already set up. She directed me to the correct line and told me not to worry. I thanked her and turned to wait behind a couple with two small children who were obviously very tired from the flight we had just been on.
It was about 10:00pm, and we had probably been in line for a good 20 minutes, chatting with each other about how the airline was going to resolve this. A gentleman, who had just left the counter, stopped and told us that the airline had another airline’s next available flight reserved for all the people on this flight. However, that flight wasn’t leaving until 7:00am the next day. He then explained that the airline was also putting us up in a hotel.
Leave the airport? I think not. There was no way I was moving anywhere out of this building. This happened to be one of the largest airports in the country, we were in the middle of a major city, and I do not do well in large cities. As the couple discussed how they would settle down their children in one room, they turned to me and commented that at least they were; “putting us up for the night.” I smiled at them and told them there was absolutely no way I was leaving that airport. They could both plainly see that I was serious, but graciously they treated me with total respect as they tried to talk me out of staying by myself.
Finally, we had reached the counter. I asked the attendant if the airport was open all night. He told me that it was. I then asked him if he had the gate number of my flight in the morning. He did but added that the gate wouldn’t be open until morning. I told him I was going to stay at the airport. Once again, I explained that I was not leaving this airport until I was on the flight that would take me to my final destination. I have to give this gentleman credit for not over-reacting. He tried again to talk me out of staying and, seeing I was determined not to leave, gave me the gate number and directions to get to my luggage. Then he gave me recommendations on getting back to the gate I would be using to get on my flight the following morning.
I saw the couple waiting to see if I may have changed my mind. I believe they had wanted to suggest I ride with them to make sure I was safe. They just shook their heads slightly when I told them I was staying. I thanked them for their help and concern. I also assured them that I would be fine.
Now that I knew I had all night to get my luggage and make it back to the other side of the airport, I took the time to call my friend to tell him I was safe but not at my destination. He was floored that the flight was canceled. We talked for a few minutes, and then he asked what time it was. I was shocked to discover it was now after 11:00pm. I quickly apologized for calling so late. I could hear the smile in his voice when he informed me that it was after 1:00am where he was! Oh My God! I had forgotten all about the time change. He assured me it was fine and was glad to know I was okay and sorry that I had to go through all this alone. I then assured him I really was fine and thanked him for everything. We hung up after I promised to call him again the next day, letting him know I made it safe and sound. I looked at my watch, which I had not touched since leaving home, and sure enough, it was two hours ahead of what the wall clock in the airport read. Knowing my brother was in yet another time zone putting him one more hour behind me, I called and let him know I would not be arriving until the next day.
As I was walking to get my luggage, I noticed that the crowds had thinned down considerably. I found the correct luggage carousel and saw my two suitcases were the only ones left.
I was thankful that I basically had eight hours to get from one end of this airport to the other. I felt like I needed every minute of those eight hours. The weight of the two suitcases and the fact that I was feeling drained. Plus, my adrenaline was at an extreme earlier. And now, subsiding to calm ended up causing me to take many breaks along the way.
By the time I reached the other side of the airport a good 45 minutes later, there wasn’t anyone left in my area. All of the little shops and food places along the way were closed for the day. I literally had the entire wing of this gigantic building to myself! And, of course, wouldn’t you guess by the way this whole night had gone awry that the gate I needed to be at was at the very end of this wing!
I settled into one of the bench seats, took out my paperback book, and began to read. I may have dozed on and off that night, but they were short periods of time. Around three or four in the morning, I heard voices coming my way. I looked down the whole length of the seating area and saw two men and a woman making their way toward me. As they got closer, I still couldn’t quite hear what they were talking about, but now the three were close enough to see they were a cleaning crew. I felt a little excited, thinking now I would have someone to talk to. I soon found out even that wouldn’t happen. The trio was speaking in a foreign language. I said hello to them when they got close enough to see and hear me. They looked at me, smiled, waved, and then gave me a signal that they could not understand English. I picked my novel back up and continued to read.
At seven in the morning, I spotted the couple making their way to the gate with the two children. I went up to say hello. They were delighted to see that I, in fact, survived the night. Once they had all their luggage situated next to mine, they sat down, and the husband proceeded to tell the last horror story from the night before.
He started by telling me that they wished they had followed my lead and stayed at the airport with me. I raised my eyebrows in surprised question. He told me that it took them from 11:00pm to 3:00am just to get through the city, to their hotel, and finally their room. Only to have a 4:00am wake-up call! The three of us stared at each other for a couple of seconds, and then we all burst out laughing at the same time. What else could we have done? The night was simply a night from hell. The three of us knew from our different experiences that the evening before could have gotten even worse. I think I said something like, “well, this one is a chapter in the book we should write for our grandkids.”
The rest of the trip to my brother was uneventful. However, I was not done experiencing the night before.
I arrived at my brother’s house about mid-morning. He was so happy to see I was in one piece. After we put my suitcases in the room I would sleep in, we walked out into the kitchen. And stood leaning against opposite counters, starting to chat. My brother would ask a question, I would answer it, and he would say, “What?” every single time. I was getting irritated because I thought he was trying to be funny. Then he laughed and asked if I had any idea what was happening. I said I didn’t have a clue what he was talking about. He chuckled one more time and said, “You may think you are talking clearly, but you have jet lag. All your words are jumbled and slurring.” My eyebrows rose when I said: “What are you talking about?” The eyebrows told him what I was saying. He told me to wait right where I was. He then stepped into the next room for a minute and returned with a tape recorder. He turned it on and asked, “How was this morning’s trip?” I answered, “A lot calmer than yesterday’s.” He stopped recording and rewound the tape, and played it back. I couldn’t believe what I heard. I was making no sense whatsoever! My incredulous look reminded him that I never traveled far enough to experience jet lag. So he patiently explained it to me and then sent me to bed, where I spent my first full day out west.
I only ended up spending a month with my brother. The town was amazing, as was the landscape too. The people there were friendly, and I really could have stayed had I been able to find a job. I will never forget or regret spending that month way out west. And now that the memories of the night from hell are just that; memories from a long time ago. I don’t even mind them coming to the surface every now and then. I figured out a long time ago that what doesn’t kill you will make you stronger. And if not stronger, definitely wiser!!