Travel Adventures

American Airlines continues to add spice to my life. I flew out Wednesday and got as far as Dallas. Then they cancelled my Kansas City flight, so I got a “distressed passenger” voucher for the La Quinta hotel in Irving, TX. I called the wonderful Erin Raymond, who was the organizer of the women’s group I was speaking to at Ft. Leavenworth. She was a great glowing ball of upbeat, cheering and organized efficiency who said, “No prob! We’ll do a workaround!” and did. My plane didn’t come in till 9:20 next morning, so they decided to do adoration and then have me speak at 10:30 AM. So that’s what I did. The WOSI (Women of St. Ignatius) were a *terrific*, enthused, and engaged bunch of Catholic ladies (Army wives all) who inspired me with their gung-ho love of our Lord and our Lady. Plus, they were fellow nerds who got my joke about March 25 as the Solemnity of the Annunciation and the Feast of the Downfall of Barad-dur, so I was right at home.

After I finished speaking, I was whisked back to KCI… where my plane did not load till a half hour after it was supposed to leave. We all got on, pulled away from the gate–and then were informed that we would not take off for an hour. So, after and episode of 30 Rock and Parks and Recreation, we did.

We flew to O’Hare, and I got off, only to be informed that my connecting flight was long gone, but that I might rebook on a flight that was boarding right now if I dashed to H-8, down the concourse. Dash I did, and rebook I did. Then I had to dash to the gate in the G concourse, where I discovered that they weren’t boarding quite yet, so that was a relief. Eventually, we got on and took off.

I found myself on very crowded lawn dart in the middle of an all girl hockey team from Los Angeles. It was like being in some sort Budweiser commercial. The plane went up and then immediately started to descend into Green Bay, Wisconsin. We landed and *everybody* but me and three other passengers got off (Ride to victory, LA Hockey Chicks!) The two old duffers were from the UP (Upper Peninsula) of Michigan and the women was a security guard visiting a friend in the UP. How did I get to know so much about them? Ah! Thereby hangs a tale!

So we pull away from the gate, taxi back out to the runway and take off for Marquette, MI, my final destination. The plane rises into the air for it’s 20 minute jaunt north. The attendant brings me my little cup of water and as she hand it to me, we all hear a hideous metallic GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR from somewhere deep in the bowels of the aircraft.

She looks at me with eyebrows raised (always a bad sign when the attendant can’t identify the bizarre sound the plane is making) and dashes up to the cockpit. Meanwhile, the nose of the plane immediately dips and we start a wide bank to the left. I think, “We’re going back to Green Bay. Crap!” Then I think, “I hope we make it and that I live to see the sun rise.”

The attendant comes back and says, “We smell smoke in the cockpit.”

Now I’m praying.

As we approach the airfield, we can see fire trucks converging on the runway (six of them!). More prayer.

We touch down safely and taxi up to the gate, where the attendant tells us to get off immediately. I was happy to comply.

We go in the terminal and it is like a ghost town. The guy at the desk seems to double as the guy who waves the plane out to the taxiway (he’s got the reflector vest on and looks vaguely greasy). He goes and gets our bags off the plane and informs us they were just about to lock up for the night when they got word we were returning. There’s no ground crew and no chance the plane will be fixed tonight. The next flight out is tomorrow evening at 6:00. That’s no good because I’m supposed to speak at 7:00. And everybody else has places to be too. Plus, who want to be imprisoned at Green Bay Wisconsin airport for a day?

So the guy says he’ll call us a cab and the airline will pay the fare.

Result: A 3 1/2 hour cab ride up to Marquette, MI, where we all got a chance to know each other a bit. I managed to get hold of the priest at the St. Peter’s Cathedral (Fr. Michael Steber, a wonderful man) and fill him in on when I’d get there. We also drove into the future (from Central to Eastern time) and so I wound up getting there around 3 or 4 in the morning.

Happily, I could sleep as late as I wished next day and so was able to function for the talk on Friday, so all’s well that ends well. The folks at St. Peter’s were lovely, the Saturday talks went well, and I got to go to Mass three times while I was there, which was a grace. Plus, I didn’t die in a fiery crash, which gave me something to thankful for at Mass!

And best of all, the flight home was uneventful, which will give me something else to be thankful for for at my next Mass.