2001
| December 16, 2001 When it was time to come home from Orlando, I had a 6:30AM flight that had been moved to 7:20AM. I packed before we went to the Vampire Ball - I wore my red dress (my son insisted - I was going to wear a black dress) and my new silk shawl-scarf I had acquired - purple of course. He also insisted on that one. Seems mother cannot dress herself these days. He took photos - and we had the DJ stop everything and play "Who Let the Dogs Out" - and my son got up (with help) and danced. We have photos. Then it was back to the room for 2 hours sleep. Change quick to travel clothes. Sleep fast. Then I loaded the red Taurus we had rented for the week (neat car) with our suitcases. And the wheelchair (fits in the trunk), and finally my son. It was in the wee hours of the morning. I walked over and checked out of the hotel and then I started driving for the airport. By now I knew the way. It was misting and it was about a 45 minute run. I managed to find the Hertz rental office. And then I had to lug the luggage out of the rental - and my son. And then find the bus to run back to the airport and wait in another line. They had those rolling luggage carts. He managed to roll himself. We were helped up and out of the bus. (More tips.) Unfortunately, there was no one outside the terminal from our airline (Continental) to help. Another red cap from a different airline helped me (I tip well) and we went and got my luggage and my son (sitting in the rain). It wasn't too bad once we got out and inside. We knew the airport at this time. We got to security after riding that shuttle train and they had a place for my son to wheel through. We were to gate check his wheelchair after the mess we had flying in. At this security point, they had him stand and they used a wand - it beeped! Turned out the Dentyne gum wrapper (foil) sets off the wand. Hilarious. I got through without any searching. I was in a line beside him and fussing. I guess they leave fussing mothers alone. After we got through (I knew enough by now to put the tickets and my wallet and keys inside the carry-on), we collected ourselves and went to the waiting area. They gate-checked the chair, and I helped him into the plane. They had placed us pretty close to the front so it was not a long walk - but we get to board first and no one gets on until we are settled. By we I refer to everyone in a wheelchair - there were five of them total, some with and some without personal assistants like their mother. The flight was uneventful until we arrived. At Houston. We had a wait for the chair to get brought to us. (We group at the side of the gangway.) And then, with two carry-ons, I was waiting for assistance to the next gate. Five chairs, but no help. I waited and waited and then, something told me not to wait any longer. I strapped the two bags together, he stuck out his hand (like at the hospital) and grabbed the handle, I slung my purse over my shoulder and pushed him fast - and I pushed him across the whole airport it seemed - and arrived at the gate when they were already in general boarding. I had somehow remembered, sub-consciously of course, that they had delayed the first flight - and not the second one. Good thing. I, being a pushy mother (bad pun!), rolled him through the line and right to the attendant. They stopped the line. They had to. He's big and the access isn't. They tagged the wheelchair (gate check again) and we boarded. No one came on until we two were settled. In San Jose, we got the wheelchair (waiting for it again) and rolled to baggage claim much like we had rolled around Houston. No help here either. Now this was fun. You are supposed to call the shuttle. I called. "They are outside." In a two-block walk - dressed for a cold rainy morning in Florida - and now in the heat of the noonday sun in San Jose - I went out and walked down to get the driver to help. No van. Of course other drivers heckle you to ride with them. I am now hot and sweaty and outside the baggage claim area. You are not to re-enter. Ha! I went in when someone came out, hoping I wasn't caught. I had all our luggage piled around my son. I called again. "Oh. He just pulled up." I dragged my son and the bags out the door (one at a time) - holding the door open with my foot. Determined. Once he was settled on the sidewalk, I walked back down, found the van and walked back up with the driver. He grabbed some bags. I grabbed my son and other bags (he was dragging those two again) and we got to the shuttle. Let's see - they drop you at the door going to the airport, but you have to be a stevedore to get back to them afterward. We rode home - and the driver overcharged me ($39) - so I paid the fee and the tip - keeping the total what it was supposed to have been ($34 + tip). Attempted rip-off. Cross them off the list. We have now traveled by air and will not travel by air for sometime. Next year, with the convention in Reno, we are driving. The new Tacoma. Let the airlines get their act together. And Houston airport needs to improve their service for the disabled. Come to think of it, they all do. |
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