50 mile an hour winds, 5 foot snow drifts and lots of hot chocolate later, we got word that the Denver airport was open again (In case you missed it, there was a blizzard). If the roads were plowed in time, we might be able to get to the airport and get on our flight home. 2 days later than planned, but just in time for Christmas. So, bright and early on the morning of the 23rd we headed out of the newly shoveled driveway with hopes that the snow plows had done their job. The highway was clear and we made it to the airport with no trouble. Hurdle 1: cleared.
Upon arriving at the airport we decided to pay the small fee and check our bags curbside. It worked great in LA. Should be ok in Denver, right? So, mom gets in line (outside in freezing weather) while I go in to see what things look like inside. I guess now would be a good time to note that we arrived at the airport 3 and a half hours before our departure time, as we’d been instructed to do. If you saw the news stories you know what a mess things were in the Denver airport; lines as far as I could see. I heard someone say something about the security line being 6 hours long……and hoped they were joking. I was also told that the inside check-in line was running about 3 hours. I went back to check on mom and gave her the thumbs up to stay in the line she was in. Why wait in a 3 hour line when you could wait in a half hour one?
Unfortunately, when mom got to the front of the line the man told her that he couldn’t give her boarding passes because our original flight had been cancelled and that we needed to go stand in the line inside. Neat. So, we lug all the bags, car seat and Texas inside. Mom strategically placed herself where folks in line would see her and maybe take pity while I tried to find the end of the line. Keep in mind, this is just the line for United Airlines. All three hours of it. None of the other airlines had lines and for a moment I wondered what it would cost to just get a new ticket from one of them. Too much, I’m sure.
At some point mom calls me to tell me that someone has allowed her to cut in line. It was far enough up that we probably made up the hour wasted outside but that meant we still had at least another 2 hours to go. Maybe more. And that was just to get our boarding passes. Next we’d have to wait in the security line.
(This is getting awfully long, but what the heck, I’ll keep going)
Fast-forward about another hour and we still have a long way to go. At this point we have asked a number of United employees to help us. Everyone tells us there is nothing they can do. “Keep waiting in line. You’ll miss your flight but just try and get on the next one.” Right. The only exception was a woman who said that if we could get boarding passes and it was within an hour of our flight she could get us through security. Of course, everyone after her said she was crazy and couldn’t do that.
Panic and pregnancy fatigue is setting in and I decide it’s time to take action. Up to the front of first-class I go with plans to not move until someone helps me. I present my case, tears in my eyes (it was pretty Oscar-worthy), and practically beg to be helped. “I’m almost 6 months pregnant, I’m traveling with a 2 year-old (who, to his credit, is being very patient) and my mom, who just had a kidney removed because she has cancer (yes, I played the cancer card), is hauling all the bags.” This gets nothing but “I’m sorry….blah, blah, blah…..wait in line.” I demand to speak to a supervisor. He apparently had some Christmas spirit left and tells the woman to help me. Finally, someone who cares. She grumpily helps us but reminds me that we’ll never make it through security in time to catch our flight which leaves in 20 minutes. We’ll just see about that.
We make a mad dash downstairs to the security line and, much to our relief, the woman who told us she could get us through is there. She recognizes us and lets us go right to a screening station. At this point I really was crying (I blame the hormones). We hugged and I wished her a Merry Christmas. I hope Santa gave her something extra special.
By the time we got through security (Mom got stopped because there was something funny looking in her bag. Turned out to be a branding iron that Andy got dad for Christmas. They said it was a curling iron. He he) we had only minutes to spare and still had to ride the subway over to the other concourse and hope that it wasn’t too far to our gate. We ran to the gate, which now said the flight was closed. Luckily there was “something wrong with the plane” and it hadn’t left the gate yet so they let us on. I half expected cheers as we stepped onto the plane. I know I was cheering inside. A couple of passengers congratulated us on making it as we found our seats and settled in. The story should end here, but not quite. We ended up taxiing for an hour and a half because there was only one runway open and then we were finally on our way. Horray! We arrived to find that our luggage hadn’t, but we really didn’t care. We were home and that was a lot more than a lot of people could say that week.
Through it all Texas was soooo good. I was so proud of him. It was hard on us adults and I don’t know how he managed the whole day without a melt-down.
So, that’s our story. Our very long story.
