The Ninth Circle of Hell

Yesterday our local newspaper printed a piece (author not identified) summarizing two new bills designed at protecting the rights of commercial airline passengers. It said, "both bills wisely avoid imposing financial penalties on the airline industry, which would be the legislative equivalent of pushing a drowning man underwater." I laughed so hard that Sadie came running to the couch thinking her momma was having some sort of attack. I yelled to Jeff, "Hey you gotta read this one honey. It says that a trip to the airport is like going to the ninth circle of hell!"

I haven't read much classical literature lately, but I know the reference is to Dante's Inferno. In his poem Dante described various circles of hell. The ninth circle being the last and final
circle; the place where the worst punishments are found. I have new information for the writer of the editorial; Hell has recently completed construction of the new and improved tenth circle for airline passengers and Satan personally invited me to attend the grand opening on my recent trip back home to Missouri.

I will take full responsibility for the one sin I committed in booking my trip to Missouri. I booked a flight that left Charlotte at 5 pm. Any seasoned traveler will tell you to book the earliest flights in the day. You are less apt to be caught in the downward spiral of delays that leave the late afternoon flights teetering on the brink of cancellation.

My flight was delayed 20 minutes out of Charlotte then when we landed in Memphis air traffic control held us outside the gate because another plane had parked in our spot. The flight attendant politely asked that all passengers remain seated and allow those with tight connections to disembark first. I felt like the first leg in a relay race. My seated team mates cheered me on as I sprinted off the plane, "Run fast, you can make it."

As I approached the gate I heard someone yell, "The plane's still here, hurry, hurry!" A jolt of adrenaline shot me past the runner that I had been jockeying with for position since I started the race. The gate area was crammed with 25 red-faced, hypoxic passengers. One brave soul stood at the ticket counter. His chest heaved and his shoulders slumped under the weight of a heavy carry-on. We crowded behind him apprehensively waiting our fate, heaven or hell.

"I'm sorry but the door is closed," said the gate agent nodding her head in the direction of the jet way door.

"No, no! The plane's still here," screamed the condemned, "Open the door, just open the door". If I remembered right all you have to do on earth is turn the doorknob and push, but we had started our descent into Hell and physics are different there. “It’s no wonder they’re all going bankrupt,” I muttered as I joined the other 25 members of the chain gang heading for the ticket desk to be re-booked.

“The 8 am non-stop flight to Kansas City is sold out,” said the ticket clerk.

“When is the next one?” I asked.

“There’s a non-stop flight that leaves around 2 pm.”

“That’s too late, I have someone meeting me in St. Joseph at 4 pm.”

“There’s a 6 am flight, but you have to connect in Detroit, gets in KC around 13:10.”

I calculated the time it would take me to get to St. Joseph, stop at Wal-Mart to pick up a few things I needed, unpack my saddle and re-pack my clothes in Rubbermaid tote boxes before Sherrie picked me up at 4 pm. It would be a close call. If there was one single flight delay I was sunk, but it was possible, “Can you get me a hotel room for tonight?”

“Sorry it’s Elvis Week and all the hotels are booked. I'll give you 125 dollars if you can find a hotel,” she said while tapping away on her keyboard.

I had no desire to find a hotel located on the outskirts of Memphis or to sleep in an airport chair…all on the off chance that a 6 am flight might get to Kansas City on time. I called Jeff back for the third time. He is always thinking ahead and said, “I reserved a car for you at Hertz. It’s an 8 hour drive to Kansas City. If you leave now and stop along the way to get some sleep you can still be home by 10 am.”

The ticket agent handed me a form as I asked for directions to the car rental area, “Fill this out, you might get a refund for the non-used portion of your ticket. Don’t expect to hear anything for at least 6 weeks.”

And so I began my journey out of airport Hell. The drive from Memphis was wonderful and the next post will be dedicated to that trip, but now for the rest of the story. I reached Kansas City International airport at 10 am to pick up my bags. The Memphis ticket agent had assured me they would be on the "sold out" 8 am flight. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw them propped up against a wall in the baggage claim office. Out of curiosity I asked the clerk when my bags arrived. He smiled and said, “They got here last night”

I shook my head as I walked out of the office. I guess in Hell they can open an airplane door for bags, just not people. I dropped the car off at Hertz, stood outside in the sweltering heat and waited for mom to pick me up.

Now you would think that is the end of my experience into the tenth circle of Hell. But since I escaped once, the devil knew he had one last shot: my trip home. I didn’t commit any sins on this one. I booked the earliest flight out of Kansas City. Here's the abbreviated details:

08:20 landed in Memphis;
09:15 boarded plane for Charlotte;
09:40 pushed back from the gate;
09:50 returned to the gate;
10:05 pilot told us to disembark, mechanical delay;
11:00 got a 10 $ coupon for lunch, courtesy of airline (the equivalent of buying a Diet Coke in an airport);
13:00 finished reading all the magazines in my carry-on;
13:30 called Carla (she and Frank left Kansas City International an hour after I did this morning for a trip to Mexico). They’ll be in Puerto Vallarta before I get to Charlotte;
14:00 got back on the repaired plane. Called Jeff, “They said they were going to get us out of here ASAP, flight time is about 1.5 hours. Gotta turn off the phone.”;
14:15 sitting on the tarmac;
14:30 sitting on the tarmac;
14:45 plane took off. I reset my watch. Its 15:45 Charlotte time;
17:15 arrived in Charlotte;
17:45 picked my bags up.

At the passenger pick up area I was met by an impatient black doggie and a slightly frazzled husband who said, “I hate to tell you but I looked on the internet, if you had rented a car when you got to Memphis you would have been home by now!”

Sidebar: In 1995 there were 443 flights that were delayed over 3 hours; in June of 2007 alone 462 flights were delayed. In March 2007 I sat for five hours in Charlotte waiting on a plane bound for Portland ME. In December 2006 Jeff and I were scheduled for a flight with an arrival time in Kansas City around 5:30 pm, we got in at 10 pm and missed getting to eat dinner at our favorite KC restaurant, Garazzo’s. We got our lost luggage the day before we went back home.

Frank flew to Pennsylvania this week for a work meeting. He called Carla Friday night to let her know the flight crew had gone missing in Atlanta and the flight was delayed for at least an hour. This year I turned down a job at the premier Baylor University Medical Center in Dallas. The glitch, they wanted someone on-site every week. If you have the audacity to ask me why I turned down the job, go ahead I dare you! :)