STORMS UP AND DOWN THE EAST COAST

I was sitting on the porch of my sister Liz’s house in North Carolina when the alert came over my phone. ‘STORMS UP AND DOWN THE EAST COAST’.

“Oh, no!” I said as I held the phone out to my sister. “I wonder what this is going to do to my flight back home tomorrow?” I was suppose to be heading back to New Jersey.

Liz looked up my flight for the next day. “It says your flight’s still on time.” She read.

“Well, there’s no use worrying about it today.” I sighed as I leaned back in my rocking chair and watched the hummingbirds flit around her salvia plants.

The next morning I was up and packed. “I’m ready!” I called as I wheeled my suitcase out of the bedroom.

“It’s still saying your flight’s on time.” She said as we headed out to the car.

Pulling into the airports drop-off lane we said our goodbyes at the curb and I rolled my bag into the airport.

An alert immediately sounded on my phone. ‘Your flight has been delayed for three hours.’ It read.

I sighed as I texted my sister the news.

“Do you want me to come back and pick you up?” She texted back.

“I’m good. I’ll just wait it out.” I texted back.

Several hours later, after many delays, our flight was ready to board. Lightning was flashing in the distance as I struggled to get my bag in the overhead. Once I was seated I let out a sigh of relief feeling that after all the delays I was still going to be sleeping in my own bed that night.

They had just closed the cabin door when the pilot came on the intercom. “Excuse me folks but there’s a back up at Newark airport. They aren’t going to let us take off just yet but we’re going to push back from the gate and find a safe place on the runway to wait out the storm.”

Groans and the sounds of babies crying met the announcement.

Hours later we were still riding around the tarmac waiting for the perfect weather window. We’d already been served the ‘secret’ cookie stash they reserved for just these occasions and given a glass of water.

Each time the pilot came on the intercom, giving us some hope of take-off, the crowd was believing him less and less. After we’d spent four hours tooling around the tarmac, from one parking space to the next, it seemed the pilot was also beginning to give up hope and mentioned there was a strong possibility that we might be called back to the gate.

Loud groans and babies crying, now that it was way past their bedtimes, commenced.

His fateful mistake was immediately after saying we could be headed back to the gate that he came back on the intercom and said we’d been given another window of clearer weather and there was still hope for a take-off.

A few of the mother’s of the crying babies were voicing their concerns when out of the crowd a single voice called out “JUSTICE FOR THE BABIES!” She not only said it once but twice. I’m assuming she was hoping others would join in on the chant but instead everyone got quiet, even the babies. That’s when she added, “I’M ABOUT TO LOSE IT HERE!”.

Within seconds the pilot came back on the intercom and said we were going back to the gate and that there was no chance of taking off today.

As we were taxiing back to the gate I couldn’t help but wonder, was our imminent de-boarding about the weather or was it the screaming woman who called off our flight?

I guess I’ll never know. But looking on the bright side she has given me a new catch phrase about justice!