Up until today, I’d always seen a boarding pass as a ticket to an unknown and exciting adventure. Well, today didn’t change the unknown part. This morning started much the same as any other excursion to New York. The plan was to fly through Chicago to New York Laguardia and spend the night at my mom’s childhood friend (and basically my aunt) Helen’s apartment in Manhattan before taking a train to New Haven to start the Common Grounds program tomorrow. One of the best parts of this plan was the fact that I would leave my 50 pound (yes, some books had to be moved to my carry-on to meet the weight limit) bag in her apartment and not have to drag it around for a week.
Part of the day went according to plan. I arrived in Chicago not only on time but five minutes early! I easily found my gate and settled in to wait for two hours. At some point during that time, someone announced that the gate had changed, but that was no big deal. I just moved and settled myself in a new seat. Then the trouble began.
A perfectly pleasant sounding voice came over the loudspeaker informing everyone sitting around Gate K4 that the flight to Laguardia had been cancelled due to weather. Of course, this started a mad rush to the phones that were available to call the American Airlines rebooking service. On my first go-round, I was informed that the best flight that I would be able to get would land me in New York at 10pm tomorrow. That certainly wasn’t ideal, but I booked myself on it anyway. As soon as I got off the phone, I called my mom who was also on the phone with American Airlines. As she was on the verge of finding an alternative flight, her signal cut out. Great.
So, we hung up with each other and both got back on the phone to try to figure out a way to get me to the Northeast before the program started. Though every earlier flight to New York was booked (probably by the people whose earlier New York flights had been cancelled due to weather) I somehow managed to book a flight to Hartford that landed at midnight. I didn’t know where it connected through or what would happen to my bags or even me once I landed, for that matter. I was just happy that I was going to be moving. I called my mother with the news. She already knew. The man she had spoken with had informed her the instant the switch was made and she proceeded to fill me in on the details. I would fly through Miami and my bag would be redirected to Hartford. I’d have to drag it around but at least it wouldn’t have gotten lost! When I arrived in Hartford, my dad and uncle’s childhood friend George would go to the airport (at midnight!) to bring me home and then drive me to the train station in the morning. I couldn’t believe how nice this was, especially considering that the last time I’d seen him was when I was five years old.
I quickly got the boarding passes printed for the Miami/Hartford route and hurried over to the gate. I might as well not have. About half an hour after my arrival, they began to steadily move back the estimated time of departure. Every time, I would trudge over to the information desk to double-check that I wasn’t going to miss my connection. Finally, when the flight had been pushed back from 3:15pm to 4:40pm with every chance of being stuck in Chicago for even longer, it was obvious that I would either have to spend the night in Chicago or Miami. So, we called up our family friends in Chicago and off I went to a fun night of playing with their little boys and walking around the neighborhood. So, my day of disillusionment with the aviation world ended on a high note. Hopefully, tomorrow will bring more flying luck and I will arrive in Hartford with no further phone calls. Just in case, though, my phone’s getting a thorough charging tonight.
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