Missed It By That Much

Well our late night star gazing hadn’t done us any favours when it came to having to respond obediently to the 5am alarm. Sam was out like a light! We had to pack up and make our way to JFK Airport ready for our 9am flight to Kansas. I think our late night also contributed to slight delirium when it came to working out how much time we needed to leave ourselves this morning.

Wielding our hurriedly packed bags down to the lobby, we grabbed a bagel on the run and made our way down into the New York underground one last time. Sam had studied the map and got us on the train heading in the direction of the airport. It was a packed commuter train full of people heading to work. There was a guy spinning some tunes for us in our carriage – some cool soul music – and if you looked carefully you could see everyone’s hips starting to gyrate in time with the beat.

Now Sambo noticed that the map had white dot stations and black dot stations and the station we wanted was a black dot on the map. He calmly pointed out to me that our train was suitably avoiding all the black dot stations. Uh oh. I asked one of the young guys sitting next to me whether this train would indeed get us to JFK. He said yes so I put blind faith in him just before he slipped into a deep sleep and I never spoke to him again. The minutes were ticking away but we convinced ourselves we still had a bit of time up our sleeves. Every now and then the train would just come to a complete shuddering halt in the limbo between stations. I was sure it had broken down on several occasions but then, out of the blue, it would fire up again and continue its s-l-o-w chug towards the airport. Sam was map-gazing and ticking off the 32 stations (yes, THIRTY-TWO!) for us as we went. Finally, we pulled in at Howard’s Beach Station and followed everyone with wheelie bags to the “Air Train” that would lead us straight to our departure gate….hopefully!

Time wasn’t on our side by now. It was 8:20am and our plane was leaving at 9. The sign at the start of the Air Train had said “Welcome to JFK Airport” so we breathed a sigh of relief that we’d made it! We were home and hosed right? A quick train ride, express check in and we’d be winging our way towards the great Midwest. Well not exactly. That sigh was a bit premature because when I asked a young girl on the platform, where we had to go to board American Airlines, she told us Platform 8. Telling her what time our scheduled plane was taking off she looked gravely concerned for us and said in a serious voice (as she was shaking her head and looking straight into my face) “it sure gonna be tight!”

My heart was palpitating as the Air Train moved at a snail’s pace around the perimeter of the airport (I seriously think I could have walked quicker) and we stopped at Platform One. Platform Two. Platform Three. Platform Four. OK, now I was worried. It was now 8:45 and I could feel my blood pressure rising. Sam was being annoyingly chipper and kept saying: “don’t panic mum” (the worst thing to say to someone who is panicking by the way!). He was just so relaxed it was making me more tense. Platform Five. Platform Six. Oh why oh why did we have to fly American Airlines that took off from bloomin’ Platform 8?! I decided to call ahead and tell them we were on track (literally!) and would be there with only a couple of minutes to spare. In my heart of hearts I still thought we had a chance. Maybe the flight would be delayed like most of our other flights have been? Sam was still quietly confident too.

After battling with a computer voice that needed an interpreter for my accent and kept saying, in a sugary voice “I’m so sorry… I can’t quite get that. Please repeat it for me”, I finally got to speak to a human being who was also quite pessimistic about our chances of making the flight. She told us we could re-book but that would cost an extra $200….each! Our best bet, in her opinion, was to make a bee-line for the check-in counter and try to get on standby for the next flight.

By the time the ridiculously slow Air (more like Turtle) Train got us to the much anticipated Platform 8, the clock had just ticked over to 9am. “Are they still here? Have they taken off yet? Do you think we’ll make it? Could they get us through security fast? Will they wait? Can we run? Please?!” My barrage of questions was met with as much pessimism as my phone call. “Ahhhhhh……No”. We’d missed it. Bugger, bum. I did what would be expected of me in a situation like this: burst into tears! Sam was still being Pollyanna and couldn’t understand why I was so upset. It was just such an anti-climax and I was really frustrated and tired.

I got a hold of myself and we nutted out our options with the Whoopi Goldberg look-alike, Cecelia, at the counter. She told us the next flight out of JFK to Dallas (where we were changing for Wichita) was at 4:30pm! What? That was 7 hours away! Our connecting flight to Wichita was then not until 10:30! All the flights were full. Cecelia was great though (and patient), looking at every possible scenario for us and eventually we decided our best bet would be to try to get on a flight to Chicago at 11:30 and then onto Wichita from there at 3ish. The only problem was, this flight left, not from JFK, which we were now standing in and had traversed New York to arrive at, but from LaGuardia, one of New York’s other airports! We’d have to take a 30 minute cab ride. Oh well, what could we do?

Arriving at our second airport for the day, we checked our bags in and made our way to the Gate. Our names were flashing up on the standby list but we weren’t even in the top ten. The top 3 names on the list already had ticks beside them and I couldn’t help a pang of jealousy. We were told to sit tight and wait until everyone had boarded and they would then see what they had left. We waited while the One World, Priority, First Class, Group 1, Group 2, Group 3 and Group 4 (yada yada) all made their way down the gangway towards the Chicago-bound flight. It was an agonising wait as gradually the people on the list above us were ushered in and allowed to board before us. After an eternity, the American Airlines hostess said a loud “That’s it folks. All full. Sorry.” and pulled the big metal door shut behind her. Now what? We had another shot in an hour. There was another flight leaving from another gate that, provided we made it on standby, would still get us to Chicago to make our flight to Wichita. This was an exercise in patience if ever I’ve had one. I had just been praying for patience too (I know it’s a dangerous prayer!)

The same process repeated itself but this time we were at the top of the list. After a second, equally agonising wait, we were actually given the nod! Yes! It’s hard to describe the relief I was feeling. It was like having your lucky number come up in the raffle. We weren’t sitting together but that was to be expected. I slept the whole way to Chicago. The morning had taken its toll!

We had a great lunch at the Chicago Airport and then had to go through the whole standby process one more time to see if we could get ourselves on that plane to Wichita. Thankfully our prayers were answered and we were flying high, ready to land in Kansas, our final destination.

As we’ve met Americans all over this huge land and we’ve told them of Sam’s impending move to Kansas, the one thing they’ve all told us has been that Kansas is full of lovely people. Landing in Kansas, getting our cab to the hotel and meeting all the staff, we can certainly vouch for that! Everyone we’ve met has been over the top with their kindness and hospitality – so polite and incredibly helpful (a far cry from New York!). Corey, the bell boy was so nice it felt like he was checking us in to his own home. He kept calling Sam “Sir” and me “Ma’am” and told us to call him if we needed anything at all. He was also the bus driver and would be happy to take us into town tomorrow to get some supplies for Sam’s college. I wanted to give him a hug! Conan at the desk had been just as lovely, telling us he was from Winfield (where the college is) and waiving the fees for the internet just because he was so nice. Even the girl who brought our dinner to our room was great. Ahhhhh. It was good to have finally arrived.

The moral to today’s story children, is always leave yourself PLENTY of time to get to the airport!

Previous
Previous

There’s No Place Like Home

Next
Next

Taking A Big Bite Of The Big Apple