Il Purgatorio

On Wednesday, Gail and I departed Atlanta to attend the Midwest Political Science Association conference in Chicago (business for me, we thought, and a few days off for Gail). We planned the trip carefully. Everything was in place. We parked the car at Brookhaven, and jumped on a MARTA train.

Just as we passed Garnet station, the operator announced that 'no trains, buses or passengers' were being allowed into the airport, so all passengers would have to get off at College Park. So, off we got. A Delta employee told us that there had been a bomb scare at the airport and the terminal had been cleared. A few minutes later we heard a plane take off. Shortly thereafter a northbound train arrived at the station, and then we jumped on the next southbound train for the last couple of miles to Hartsfield-Jackson.

The ticketing area was a mass of people going in several different directions. It took determination on my part (and making my presence as intimidating as possible) to bull our way through to the Air Tran counter. Once we had upgraded our tickets, we went to the ticket counter and were told that the flight, scheduled for 6:56 was not going to leave till 9:47. Oh, well, between the closure of the airport and the weather that wasn't unexpected. The counter agent told us that she had just got back to her station after the airport reopened.

So, I bulled my way back through the crowd to get to the security line. I was hoping Gail was behind me, but she couldn't keep up. She told me later that some men, seeing my progress, had called out 'follow that guy!' and set off in my wake. When I got to the open space between the ticketing area and the start of the security line, however, Gail wasn't behind me, and it took her a few more minutes to emerge from the ruck.

We joined one of the two security lines. Almost immediately, an airport employee came up to us and asked if we needed wheelchairs. We must have looked particularly decrepit. The security line, to my surprise, moved fairly quickly. It only took about 20 minutes till we got to the checkpoint. So, shoes off, pockets emptied, through the metal detector. No problem.

When we got to the departure area (Concourse C), we had dinner at Paschal's, which took some time as it was understaffed. Still, a good dinner, and an hour spent pleasantly. Then, off to the departure gate. After finding no seats there, we sat at a nearby gate. Then, when one plane had departed we moved to the assigned gate. Ten minutes after sitting down, over the tannoy came a voice announcing that our flight had been relocated to another gate. Fortunately, one only a short distance away. So we go there.

Gail had been playing with the PDA for a while, and I'd been reading. When she got tired of playing, I took the PDA and connected to the airport WiFi. That showed that the flight had been advanced, and would be departing in half an hour. Two minutes later they began boarding.

While we'd been waiting, an earlier flight to Chicago had boarded, and both of us had thoughts about being on that plane. Envy, we were about to learn, isn't a good thing.

When we arrived at Chicago Midway we walked straight to the baggage area. No bags, of course, but a sign at one carrousel indicating that our flight was in. After half an hour we learned, not from an announcement but from other passengers that our luggage had been delayed. We were to learn, again not from any Air Tran employee since none of them seemed capable of making an announcement or explaining anything, that the earlier flight had returned to Atlanta because its landing gear didn't retract. The passengers and baggage were put on another plane, that took off, and promptly returned to Hartsfield-Jackson because its engine had overheated.

We overheard one Air Tran employee -- there were two there, C.J. and Tiki -- say that they weren't going to be around when the luggage finally arrived at half-past two. We all had to fill out claim forms. However, we were only allowed to do this one at a time, and we were told that the bags would be delivered the next day. After waiting in line for over an hour and a half after hearing that, we were finally able to leave the airport and head for the hotel.

So, the next day, we had only the clothes we'd arrived in. We were able to wash our underwear, at least, but I was a discussant on a panel, and had to turn up looking less than 'conference professional'. Fortunately, our bag did arrive (Gail texted me when it did, I was in the meeting, but could, at least text back the word 'Hooray!') The panel, fortunately, was interesting.

My own paper wasn't given till Saturday afternoon, and we had to check out earlier (we spent Saturday night at a hotel near the airport). It was, thankfully, well received. Earlier, we'd had lunch with Phil Howe whom I hadn't seen since I left San Diego in 1994. We were up at 2:30 for a 5:30 flight. We got to the airport at 3:15, but the Air Tran counter didn't open until 3:30, and then the security line didn't open until 4:30. Our flight boarded at 5:05. Fortunately, we made it through, onto the plane, and into Atlanta early. Our bag turned up pretty promptly and we made it home (and Gail on to work) in time.