Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Flight(s)

Last week, I left for Nashville on Wednesday to attend a teaching conference, due to return on Thursday evening. This should have taken approximately 5-hours flying each way. By the time I returned home, 20 of the 48 hours I was gone were spent on planes. Half of that sitting on runways. When we got to DFW, there was some “weather” about 20 miles away, so the pilot said that planes were being diverted and that there would be some delays. So, having boarded and left the gate on time, we taxied out to wait in line. Having waited in line about an hour, we finally approached the runway. Just as we were about to take-off, we had a medical emergency and had to return to the gate. Doctors were called, the patient (diabetic) was removed from the plane, and we refueled. Ready to go? No, we had to wait in line again. Then another diabetic was having trouble, but a doctor on board helped to get that situation under control. Thank goodness. Then, the storm hits. No planes are going anywhere, and we are still sitting on the runway. In all, we spent 5 hours sitting on the runway at DFW.

Fortunately, I was with a rather friendly group of Southerners. (Why again is it necessary to say, “all y’all”? I thought “y’all” was inclusive enough….) The time passed surprisingly quickly, but we didn’t get into Nashville until 11:00 local time—way passed dinner. Everything at the airport was closed, and though hungry, M & I decided to head to the hotel and hope for breakfast.

The conference was wonderful. It was located at the Scarritt Bennit Center, near Vanderbilt University. It was a gorgeous campus—I loved the trees, the gothic cloisters—it was lovely—a very peaceful place after the bustling stress of the airports.


The dining hall was a mini-version of the dining hall at Hogwarts, except they had fried okra! --large stained glass windows, chandeliers, real wooden 100 year-old tables.

Before heading home, we also visited Vanderbilt, home of the Comodores, where they were celebrating commencement. Another beautiful campus, and southern boys who hold the door for you when they see you coming from 50 feet. Wow. It is different in the South.


When the time came for the flight home, M. and I thought we’d left all our bad luck behind. Everything seemed fine, until I noticed that I had almost finished my book—and this was supposed to be a “short flight” from Nashville to Houston. I looked up at M. about the same time as she looked up at me. “Does it seem like this flight is taking longer than it should?” I asked. Her reply? “I was going to ask if you thought we just made a U-turn.” Realization hit us at the same time. Uh-oh.

About 10 minutes later, the pilot announced that due to “weather” over Houston, we were now circling over Georgia and would need to stop to refuel soon. So, we landed in Arlington, LA., to refuel. We stayed there about 3 hours waiting for Houston to re-open following the storm. We were not allowed off the plane, but they did give us 2 packages of peanuts! Missed dinner again...glad I ate that fried okra!(I’d pack an MRE next time, but I’m afraid the security guys would confiscate it due to the matches.) We finally arrived in Houston, missed our plane going home, but were able to catch one on its way to LA. Close enough. As we were taxing out to the runway, there was a sickening thunk. Apparently, the tow bar broke, damaging the nose gear. M. and I burst out laughing, which the other passengers thought was a completely inappropriate response, I’m sure! So, back to the gate we went, so the mechanics could fix the problem.

We finally arrived in LA at 3:00 in the morning. We thought we’d catch a bus back close to home and beg my little brother to pick us up and take us the rest of the way. He loves me enough for that and was willing. But…did you know that the buses don’t run in the middle of the night? We didn’t. So we were waiting…and a police car pulled up. “Ladies, you look out of place. Can we help you?” The next thing I knew, I was riding in the back of the police car on the way to a car rental place, where the officers were so kind as to talk the bad car rental people down from $60/day to $12/day. Wow.

I called my boss, who sweetly asked if I’d like a sub for the day, under the circumstances. I don’t want to get on another plane for a very long time…..but, I’m leaving for DC on Sunday. Yikes!