by Randy Siever

I was so looking forward to presenting the Doable Evangelism Seminar at The United Church in Los Alamos, New Mexico this past weekend.  It didn’t happen, but it wasn’t for lack of effort on both ends.  Strong winds shut down the Albuquerque airport to all air traffic, unfortunately for me right in the middle of my way out there.  I got stuck in the L.A. airport, which was crammed with people who had not been able to get anywhere they needed to go the previous day due to THAT airport being shut down for wind and rain.

The plan was to fly to ABQ, rent a car and drive the two hours north to Los Alamos.  Should have put me at the venue by 3pm on Friday. Traveling in January is always a bit iffy, but normally if you’re headed to the southern regions it’s not a big deal.  This year’s weather has been quite extraordinary, however.  LAX was closed due to tornadoes and a deluge of RAIN the day before I landed there, for cryin’ out loud!  And frankly, if the wind is strong enough in ABQ for the airport to not want planes to land there, I don’t really want to land there (I mean, I live in Reno…how windy does it have to be to CLOSE an airport???).  The prospect of driving a very small rental car, should I ever get to the ABQ airport, two hours in the dark through wind and snow and ice to Los Alamos was a tad discouraging as well.  After a number of phone calls, emails and texts, we all decided that the weather had won out, and we would have to cancel and reschedule the event.  Bummer.

So I’m now in LAX, wondering how I might get back to Reno.  Southwest said there were two flights out, both over booked, but I could get on the standby list and see what happened (I did).  In the meantime, I found a third Southwest flight via my laptop which the counter folks didn’t seem to notice when I asked them to check for me.  I took my laptop to the counter and held it up.  “Know anything about THIS flight?”  They looked on their own computer and then said they could make a reservation for that flight (it went through Oakland) but that I’d need to retrieve my two checked bags and then go purchase the new ticket at the ticket counter…which meant I had to leave the security area (this is never good).  I asked if they knew where my checked bags were.  They didn’t.  Told me to inquire at the baggage office down by bag claim.  Ok.  I just want to go home.

Went out of the secured area to bag claim, and found the Southwest baggage office.  It was wonderfully quiet in there.  I presented my claim checks and told them my situation and asked if they might know where my bags were and if I could get them to Reno eventually.  It took them about ten minutes to locate them…in El Paso, TX.  I wondered how they got there, but all I really wanted to know was if they could end up back in Reno sometime.  They assured me they would get them there.

I went upstairs to the ticket counter, relieved of my baggage (the suitcase kind…still  have plenty of the emotional kind).  I waited in a rather long line to purchase my ticket, wondering if I could get my ticket, make my way back through security and to the boarding gate on time to catch the flight.  I had about an hour to departure time so I was feeling hopeful.  Got my turn at the counter, explained what I was wanting to do and what had happened all morning thus far.  Handed my reservation card to the nice woman behind the counter.  She looked at it, furrowed her brow and said, “They’re going to make you PAY for this ticket home?  Why didn’t they just book you with your existing ticket up there?”  She seemed very angry, but kind of like the angry that the senior angel in “Touched by an Angel”  (Della Reese) used to get.  I liked her a lot.  Anyway, she looked at her computer and said, kind of under her breath, “You’re not paying for this.  Not on my watch.”  I liked her a lot.  It took her several minutes and a supervisor visit to make it happen, but I left the counter with a free ride home…and thirty minutes to departure.

All was going great until I got to the security station.  The line wasn’t that long, but it seemed like every station was checking every bag in the machine TWICE.  I’ve never been in a slower moving security line.  I began to think I was not going to make the flight home, but after clearing security I had five minutes to get to the gate.  I ran. For those of you who do not know me well, let me assure you…I don’t run.  Anywhere.  For any reason.  Fortunately the gate wasn’t too far and the flight was delayed, so I got on the plane headed to Oakland.  All was well.

Because the flight to Oakland was already delayed, and because it got delayed another 20 minutes while we waited in line on the tarmac at LAX, it wasn’t looking good for my connecting flight from Oakland to Reno. There was initially a comfortable one hour layover for the connection.  Now there was…well, it didn’t look like we’d make it at all.  We were almost exactly an hour behind. The stewardess tried to assure us by saying that everything was backed up in Oakland, too, and that it was very likely we’d all make our connections.  But she wasn’t very convincing.  She said to check with the customer service rep when we got off the plane or check a monitor for the gate we needed to be at.  There were neither anywhere in sight as we de-planed in Oakland.  I went the wrong way, rushing to what I thought was  my connecting gate.  I ran/walked to get there (again, I don’t do running) only to find out I was now in the wrong TERMINAL.  I panicked.  I RAN (with my quite heavy backpack over my shoulder) back from whence I came, pausing a couple of times at monitors to see where I made my mistake, and try to get oxygen in my now collapsing lungs.  I noticed on one such stop that my flight was now boarding, which increased my motivational spirit to run, but didn’t really help my flesh any.  Every step was getting shorter and shorter, and pain was shooting up my legs to my back.  My lungs were burning.  I finally got to the correct gate and nearly collapsed at the counter, holding my ticket up in the air, unable to really speak.  The very kind lady said, “You made it fine. We’re delayed a bit.”  I think I said thank you, but not sure the words actually made it out of my now gasping throat.

I sat down, my heart pounding, and tried to get my lungs to cooperate with the task of getting air.  And then, without warning, I began to sweat.

I am a sweat factory.  But I don’t sweat when most people do, you know, while they exert themselves.  No, my system is set up to discharge copious amounts of hot liquid from all my pores sometime AFTER I exert myself.  No problem, though…I was starting to breath normally, and I was going home.  I boarded the very full airplane and was forced to sit between two other guys. Not a big deal…it’s just a 55 minute flight home.  Almost there.  As the plane lifted off, my lungs began to seize up and I began to need to cough.  Loudly and aggressively.  My elderly seat partner to my left was startled enough to say, “Oh my!”  I was now sweating profusely and hacking my lungs out.  On a very full airplane.  It occurred to me that I must look like someone suffering from, and delivering to almost 200 others, some really aggressive form of H1N1 flu virus.  There was nothing anyone could do about it.  They were stuck with the sweating, coughing fat dude in the middle of the plane.  No amount of explaining at this point would make any difference to anyone.

So I got home, sans luggage, which came later that night (Southwest was kind enough to call me around 11 pm to say it was now at their Reno baggage office).  I’m still a huge fan of Southwest Airlines…they managed a very difficult week in American airports better than anyone else, and they got me home.  In retrospect, it was a really interesting adventure, but I gotta be honest with you…it really didn’t feel that way at the time.  We’ll reschedule something with The United Church folks (they are working on some really cool ideas).  I’m really looking forward to eventually being with them.  But we will probably try to do something after winter…just to be safe!