Delays, Reroutes, and Blessings in Disguise.

The adventure began as soon as I stepped up on the curb at the Kansas City International Airport.

As I shuffled my bags to pull out flight information, my passport and some cash for a tip, an eager and able sky-cap approached to offer assistance and curb side check-in for my flight. Chit chatting as we stepped to his kiosk, it looked like a beautiful day to fly.

His countenance changed as he searched for my name in his data base. “I’m sorry ma’am, your flight is cancelled. Let’s step inside.

At the Delta counter we got the good news, and the bad news.  The good news? The flight was only delayed by 2 hours. The bad news? Taking that flight I would miss my connection to JFK, thus missing my connection to the international flight to Tel Aviv.

I must say, the skycap was as helpful as possible as he directed me to the LINE for Delta customer service to see if something could be done.

After standing in line for 45 minutes the Delta representative called US Airways and booked me on a flight from Kansas City to Charlotte, then back to Delta for the last leg to JFK. I had 45 minutes to catch a shuttle to the other terminal, go through security and board my new flight.

As I dashed to the Red-Bus-zone I overheard another passenger with almost the same situation, upset because their luggage was checked early, and was already in Detroit, but their flight was delayed and they were being rerouted. Hopefully their luggage finds them; I am so using that story in my article about packing tight and using carry-on vs. checked luggage.

At the US-Airways ticket counter, the clerk discovered that, while I was confirmed on their flight to Charlotte, the system had somehow cancelled my seat on the Delta flight to JFK. Thankfully another phone call between the airlines rebooked that flight for me. That settled I looked at my phone for the time. I had 20 minutes to get through security and board my flight.

Now, for most people that might seem like a long time; especially when the line was relatively short. But, I ALWAYS set off the metal detectors because of my hip, and in Kansas City, US-Airways does not have full-body scanners.

“BEEP” the monotone alarm sounded as I stepped through the portal, with 14 minutes to catch my flight I was corralled to wait in line for phase two.

“Female Assist”

“We’ve got three ahead of her.”

“Stand by.”

“Ma’am, it will be just a few minutes," the TSA agent seemed not to notice that I could hear the conversation on his walkie-talkie. 

I wondered silently if the plane would wait, but relaxed knowing that this whole trip was orchestrated and arranged by God. If he could provide a trip to the Holy Land, he could certainly get me through security.

I’m not sure how, but it took less than one minute for a very nice, female, TSA agent to retrieve me from the holding pen. The necessary pat down procedure was smooth and without intrusion or shame. In fact, even the parts of the procedure she pointed out as being the new methods, didn’t seem much different than previous TSA screenings. As she waited for the testing machine to be available, so she could run the check for residue from her gloves, I asked her if people who wear looser fitting clothing make her job easier, or if more form fitting garments, jeans etc. were better. To my surprise, light, loose fitting fabrics that aren’t too baggie or too close to the skin make the pat down procedure more comfortable for the TSA agents and the passengers. (In case you were wondering, as I was, about proper attire for a TSA visit.)

Finally having the all clear from the residue test, I was free to fly. I grabbed my shoes, sweater, carry-on, back pack and net-book and rushed to the gate. As I stepped up to the podium my name filled the speakers in the waiting area.

“Passenger Soannenmosheir, we need you on board the aircraft immediately.” It’s always a good laugh to hear the way my name is pronounced by strangers. J

The static filled broadcast had not ended when I handed my boarding pass to the gate agent and hoofed it, in my socks, down the ramp toward the waiting plane. Thankfully a line at the aircraft door allowed me to dropped my shoes and slip my feet into them before boarding. Organizing everything else waited until I was in my seat. Row 20 seat C. An aisle. I never thought about being picky about the seat as I was being shuffled around…but I was thankful for the aisle God provided.

It was a little crazy in the airport…but God cares so much about my comfort that he allowed a bit of chaos to give me a better seat on a better flight. The seat on Delta…was a window seat, on a full flight. As I write this blog entry, I am in the air, in my aisle seat, with an empty seat between me and the tall gentleman in the window seat.

Keep praying as you follow this adventure. It’s going to be amazing!