Scenes From My Life

I did not know how fast I was walking and I did not care. All I knew was that I had a connection to make . . . and I was not going to miss it. I arrived at the gate just in time to see the boarding door closing. What was I going to do? This was the last flight of the day. It had been a long day and I really wanted to get back home. Now I was not sure I would. My day had begun around 8a.m. when I arrived at the Phoenix airport for my 10a.m. flight to Atlanta. Because of a great fare, I had purchased a ticket that included a connection in Detroit. It had been very much out of my way, but the fare was better than anything else I could find. My return flight had a two hour layover in Detroit, plenty of time (I thought) to make my connection. I did not anticipate a three hour delay in the Phoenix airport because of a malfunctioning airplane. By the time everyone was on the plane, it was after 1p.m. When the plane landed, I briskly walked dow

I recently returned from a long weekend trip. I traveled to a favorite city, one that I know well. I had planned to spend my time seeing good friends and visiting places I have seen many times. Yet, in the days leading up to the departure, I was still apprehensive. My concern had nothing to do with the trip itself, though. Instead, it was because of my track record when it came to visiting this particular city. Prior to this trip, I have flown into this city four times. All four times, I have taken a direct flight on the same airline. Three of the four times, I have flown into the same airport. Three of those four times, my luggage has not arrived with me. I could not help but wonder if this trip, flying in to the same airport, on the same airline, would have the same result. Or, would I be able to leave the airport without a visit to the airline’s baggage services office? My flight arrived at the airport just ahead of schedule. I made my way to the