I got to Jackson in plenty of time; even had the time to stop at the Subway and grab a sandwich to take on the plane for supper, my connection in Atlanta only gave me about 55 minutes to get from one gate to the other. I got through security (which was just delightful since I got a full body pat-down because I was wearing a dress - whatever) just fine and settled in to wait for boarding. And that's when the fun began.
I noticed that neither of the Delta gates actually had my flight number listed on their departure board, so I asked the man seating near me if he was meant to be on the flight leaving at 6:45 for Atlanta. He said that he was supposed to be on the flight that left at 1:10 going to Atlanta but he was still stuck sitting in Jackson. Eek! Cue the alarm bells in my head. Right then, I heard a ping from my phone and looked down to see an email from Delta: my flight out of Jackson had been bumped back to 8:05 with an arrival into Atlanta at 10:38....which meant I definitely wasn't making my 10 PM connecting flight. Cue the panic.
I spoke with a gate attendant (after waiting in line behind about ten people) and knew with every person in front of me that he was going to give away the last ticket...but he didn't. He handed me a ticket to the flight leaving at 6:15 and told me to go board it immediately. I thanked him for his help and rushed down to the gate and onto the plane. I got settled in and decided to go ahead and eat my Subway while they finished loading and we took off. But...we sat there...and sat there...and sat there. Finally they announced that their was a technical problem with the plane they had brought in to replace the earlier plane; which also had technical problems.
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| So many tickets.... |
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| On Plane #2; the first plane I actually got on, the second flight I'd been booked on and the flight I also got right back off of. Confused yet? Me too. |
At this point - people were getting pissed. I was getting pretty stressed myself because my window to make my connecting flight was getting smaller and smaller and my heart rate was going up and up and up. The people on the flight with me were fussing (yelling if I'm being honest) that the stewardess should give them alcohol as well and not reserve it for the people in first class alone. There was cussing, shouting and people just being downright rude. I understand the frustration but I also don't understand people who immediately jump to acting crazy; it only makes you look worse.
They trooped all of us off the plane, divided us into two lines and gave us new tickets on the plane at the other Delta gate, also going to Atlanta. I was then told that if I got to Atlanta and missed my flight into Dulles, there was a flight leaving at 10:40 going into Reagan and I could try to get on that flight. We all boarded the plane and finally, finally at around 8:20 we took off from Atlanta. I was already trying to tell myself that I just needed to be prepared to probably end up in Atlanta for the night. I wasn't looking forward to that thought very much but I further believed that would be the outcome when the pilot told us we'd be landing in Atlanta at 10:30. I would definitely miss my flight leaving at 10 and there was no way I'd make it to the gate for the flight leaving at 10:40. I was getting pretty despondent but trying to tell myself it could be much worse.
A side note here - I guess either I'm getting pretty good at this whole flying thing or I was just too stressed about making connections but the flight from Jackson to Atlanta was ROUGH. I don't think I really realized that until later when I was on my other flight but I guess I was so preoccupied with making my other flight that I rode most of that flight hunched over in a ball, clutching my other boarding pass and praying that somehow, someway, something would work out and I would get onto a flight. I wanted my parents, I wanted my blue and green bed and I wanted my mountains.
When we landed in Atlanta, my Mom called to tell me my original flight had been pushed back to 11:10 and it was only 4 gates down from where the flight I was on was coming in. When I tell you I was running through that airport like I was being chased - I am not even remotely exaggerating. I was flying down the terminal, my bag rolling behind me at breakneck speed and just praying I didn't drop anything because I knew that would be all it would take. One slip-up would be the piece that caused the possibility of making this flight all fall apart.
I rushed to the desk and was told I'd made it in plenty of time - the flight had just parked at the gate and they'd be boarding shortly. I handed my boarding pass to the attendant to make sure that everything was okay and she told me "Oh, you don't have a seat on this flight anymore." WHAT? Oh yes - apparently since I was on a flight that would be late and it seemed like I wouldn't make my connection, my seat had been forfeited and now I would have to be put on stand-by and hope that I made it on. Y'all - I broke down at this point. I was clutching my stand-by seat ticket like it was the only thing left in the world. I called my Mom crying and told her that I was on stand-by and might not make this flight and the attendant had told me that I'd been booked for a flight on the 4th leaving at 2:20 in the afternoon. I wasn't okay with that at all. She told me I'd probably be fine and get on the plane...but I was just about exhausted from all the anxiety.
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| The perks of First Class |
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| Hello legroom! |
Somehow I was the first name on the stand-by list and after about 10 minutes of being stressed to the point that I thought my head (and heart) would explode, the attendant called my name and handed me a ticket stamped with 1A. I was so completely thrilled that I had made the flight that I strolled right past my seat and back to coach before it hit me that 1A was the first seat on the plane - in First Class. I've never flown First Class before and after the four hours I'd had earlier, it was amazing. I might be spoiled now. I curled up in my seat and snapped my seat belt on; mostly to let them know that once I'd clicked that seat belt shut, I wasn't getting off the plane until we were at Dulles. My second flight was smooth and so much calmer. I wrapped up in my Delta blanket, read a book, drank some coffee and ate a banana. We landed at 1 AM and even though I was completely exhausted, I wanted to kiss the ground. I'd made it. After thinking on numerous occasions throughout the night that I wouldn't make it - I was here.
While I was flying high last night in First Class, it got me to thinking. I spent five hours in a near constant state of anxiety and in the end, I got exactly where I was supposed to be and it turned out better than I thought it would. There were certainly bumps along the way (literally and figuratively) and times when I thought things would never work out - but they did. I feel like my life every day is like that - I worry and wonder how and when anything is every going to work out and that when it does, it won't be that great. When I was sitting in that First Class seat last night, it was almost like Jesus tapped me on the shoulder and said "see - trust me. If I was able to work out something as simple as your flights and make it turn out better than you expected, don't you think I can do all that and more with your life?"
Something to think about for sure. Anyway - gotta go celebrate the Fourth!
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| I have never been so glad to see Dulles. |
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