On July 4, while everyone else was barbecuing and watching fireworks, O was on his way to Accra, Ghana for a summer session/internship with JMU … At least we thought he was. It didn’t exactly go as planned.
O was leaving out of Dulles Airport, three hours from home. We left early enough to stop for a bon voyage lunch, using the time to talk about what he was most excited about and reminding him how to stay safe while traveling abroad.
At the airport, we helped him check his luggage, took a quick photo, and said our goodbyes at the security gate before driving back home.
Then the texts started.
The flight was delayed. Then delayed again. And again. After three delays in four hours, his 6:40pm flight was delayed one more time, to 10:40 the next morning.
No food or water was provided. No hotel vouchers were offered. No cots were available. Just a 20-year-old kid alone in an airport, three hours from home … This was not how the summer program was supposed to go.
Since O isn’t old enough to rent a hotel room (and had no way of getting to one even if he was old enough), my husband (S) started packing a bag. But by the time he got on the road, that overnight delay turned into canceled flight.
We jumped into action.
S drove in the dark to get to O, and spent the entire night trying to get his luggage released. The agents were rude and unhelpful.
Neither S nor O slept.
I was home, on the computer, trying to get hold of someone at United to rebook his flight. At some point, we lost power and I lost my place in the queue (and my patience). When the power came back, I started over.
I, too, didn’t sleep that night.
By 6:00 the next morning, I still didn’t have a refund from United and S and O still didn’t have the luggage. What we did have was a seat on a 4:35pm flight out of JFK. But by 9am, when the luggage was still no where to be found, it was clear he wouldn’t make that flight. (Dulles is a 6-hour drive from JFK on a good day, and this was a holiday weekend!). Going back online, we tried to rebook again, only to discover the next day’s flight was sold out.
We couldn’t catch a break.
Finally, at 6pm, O’s luggage was released and he was on his way back home. By the time he walked through the door at 9pm, he had been awake for 36 hours, 27 of them in the airport.
Two days later, I once again drove three hours to the airport — although this time we drove north to JFK, rather than south to Dulles. It was now 72 hours after O was originally supposed to depart. I once again helped him check his bag, took a photo, and said my goodbyes at the security gate.
When the texts started coming in, it was to say the plane was taking off. Then again when the plane landed, followed by this photo:
O was finally in Ghana!
I just hope the rest of his trip isn’t as eventful as the journey there … At least not in the same way.
—LJDT
That was total bullsheisse! It’s one thing to cancel a flight, however, there’s no good reason why his bags weren’t brought out to the customers right then. If they needed to call ramp crew on standby, so be it. But 6pm? Hell naw! Look into contract of carriage and see if there’s any room for compensation.