The Blizzard of Oz

Airport saga of a lifetime.

Okay that's most likely a lie. I'm sure other people have recounted many more perilous tales than the one I'm about to spin, but I'm telling you, this was a doozie.

I'm scheduled to fly from St. Louis back to Orlando this past Monday after a whirlwind and lovely (not to mention frigid) long weekend of wedding planning (not mine) and family bonding. But hark, is that foul weather afoot? As you can guess, my 6:30 flight was cancelled as I watched disaster officials hold a press conference about battoning down the hatches in the Gateway City. So I got on another flight, which coincidentally rendezvoused in Kansas City, my hometown. Safe enough, right? If I get stuck in KC, at least I'll be home. I knew as soon as I texted the famous last words "I'll text you from KC," I was setting myself up for disaster.

The 45 minute flight across Missouri was smooth and relief set in as we began our descent.

"Ding!"

"Ladies and Gentleman, due to the inclement weather, we've actually been diverted to Tulsa, so we're gonna go ahead and land there because we don't have enough fuel to circle the airfield..."

Oh sh!t. I've never been stranded somewhere in the country before. But if Kevin McCallister could do it, so could I.

We land without a problem and flood into the terminal, all 150 angry and confused passengers scrambling to the same three ticketing agents who are just as confused as we are, except with plastered smiles.

I stood around for awhile, sporting my prairie print dress peaking out underneath a plaid pea coat (alliteration much?), with my Pepto-pink carryon and purple dinosaur skin shoulder bag. At least I'm exuding some style to mask my confusion and despair.

I sat for awhile, munching on the cinder-block sized bag of Velvet Creme popcorn while envious hungry passengers made jokes about sharing. Not a chance, sir.

I rolled up and down the terminal for awhile, the carryon equivalent to pacing, out of sheer boredom, to and from the Great American Bagel Company stand. But the line was too long and I was afraid of missing crucial information about where to scramble next.

At this point my options are bleak: get a hotel in Tulsa, but the airport was shut down for the next day, get on a flight to Dallas, get a hotel and fly to Orlando on the next flight that was open, or wait to see if we could refuel and get back to Kansas City. Maybe I'm passive, but I opted to wait.

Then a tiny miracle happened. An announcement was proclaimed that two flights were heading back to Kansas City while one flight was proceeding to Orlando! Great God of Moses, we're saved!!!

That was my cue to take action. I got the first boarding ticket to get on the plane to Otown, forfeiting my spot on the first Kansas City flight, got myself an asiago cheese bagel, and took a comfy row on the 747 in a whole leather row to myself. Ah, sweet relief and bliss as I reassured my family that I was headed back safe, the "all clear" for Dad to take his drowsy allergy medication.

"Ding!"

The chime of despair. The plan fell through and although the handful of passengers aboard the aircraft was situated and content to fly south, the powers that be still had us grounded due to lack of business interest. Inner panic ensued, but only after I literally waited for the stewardess to say she was joking. You know how SouthWest can be.

Packed up again, I rushed back up yet another jetway and back to the ticket counter, remarkably empty. Why? Because everyone else had boarded the plane back to KC, in my spot. If only I had someone to proclaim my undying love to, this would be a perfect place to say "STOP THAT PLANE!" or something dramatic, but TSA isn't keen on disruptions these days.

I peeked my head above the ticketing counter, which came up to my chin and ask the frazzled woman "Can I go back to Kansas City? My parents live there." To which she replied "Oh, that's great! Do they want company?" and gestured to an even more frazzled young Indian family of four whom I recognized from every plane I had boarded that day who had no choice but to go to Kansas City with the rest of us. But she was joking. Awkward for all of us.

Once again, I snagged the first boarding pass for this next flight. I was going back to KC, that is, if our flight crew shows up and we have enough passengers and the weather doesn't freeze our plane and there's enough of a flight crew...

Well, things fell into place and I flew home at 1:00 in the am to an antihistamine fogged father. Good to be back for a surprise vacation, all thanks to the Blizzard of Oz.

Moral of the story, make sure you have ALL of your belongings before angrily exiting a plane after an easy flight to your final destination has been canceled. And if you see my iPod tucked in a SouthWest seat back pocket, send it my way.