Mom and I really enjoyed our trip to Hawaii in March of 2001. Through MLT vacations we arranged to leave Belleville on (?? date) and spend eight days in the Miramar Hotel (with a "partial ocean view") a block from the beach for just under $1000 apiece. I arranged with Metro-East shuttle service to pick us up at 6 AM for our 8:10 AM Northwest flight.
Our transportation to Hawaii turned into "the trip from Hell."
Mom and I were both packed, dressed and eager when I arrived at her apartment in Belleville early that weekday morning. Since none of her windows overlook the street and the entrance to her apartment is in the rear of the building, we decided to wait for the shuttle on her front porch. It was a cold morning, but we were out promptly at six AM. Ten minutes later we were getting anxious, so I returned upstairs to Mom's apartment and discovered a message from the shuttle driver on Mom's answering machine indicating that he had overslept and was on his way. Another ten anxious minutes later I returned upstairs to review the message for a phone number and found that it had been overwritten by a message from my sister wishing us a good trip. I had walked from my apartment to Mom's that morning, so we couldn't use my van to get going. The driver finally showed up at 6:45. He lives in Belleville, but had driven ten miles to Fairview Heights to get the company van before returning to pick us up.
Good God. I have just spent 2 1/2 hours typing additions to this file and my Windows 2000 system abruptly shut down, so I lost everything. Fooey. Looks like this travelog is just going to have to wait for later.
The driver and I were still optimistic that we'd get to the airport on time, but were held up for a minute at the first stop light leaving Belleville. Had we started at 6am we would have avoided rush hour. By 6:45 it was upon us, and traffic prevented us from making that first right hand turn onto highway 15. I had a prophetic thought during that minute that it would be ironic to miss the flight by that particular minute.
The driver was savvy about local routes and took the less trafficked Martin Luther King Bridge to avoid the more crowded Poplar Street Bridge. That also traded interstate roadways for less crowed local streets and cut off a couple of miles of distance. I was feeling rushed, but cautiously optimistic and suggested that the driver turn on the radio to check for traffic conditions.
Anxiety increased when the radio reported that there was an overturned trailer on the Interstate between North Hanley and West Florissant roads. The driver lied by saying that he thought that exit was past the one for the airport. As we approached the North Hanley exit, it was obvious that the traffic was backed up, but the driver confessed that he did not know of any surface streets to bypass the area.
He cruised along in left lane for half a mile passing stopped cars, and saying he couldn't understand why people moved over early. He thought people were just stupid to be curteous and move over early when lanes are closed by accidents. We eventually had to merge with the stop and go crowd and inched our way to within 30 cars of the overturned semi trailer. Time was tight, but it looked as if we would still get to the airport in the nick of time to catch our flight. Then the police stopped traffic entirely in order for the wreckers to right the trailer. Ten anxious minutes ticked by as our hope drained.
Just a couple of minutes before 8am traffic resumed. We arrived at the airport and paid the driver. I hated to give him a tip as I felt that he deserved nothing for causing us such a problem, but I had arranged with the shuttle service to pick us up on our return, so I feared that he might refuse to pick us up if I refused to hand over the expected tip. Inside the terminal, I inquired of Northwest agent about our flight. She said it hadn't left yet, but that we wouldn't get through security in time.
We rushed. I carried both of our bags and we headed straight for the gate. Mom walked as rapidly as she could. I waited whenever I thought she might lose sight of me. She caught up at the X-ray where they inspected my bag. This trip predated 9/11, but security was still inspecting bags at random and they selected my overstuffed hanging suit bag to inspect. Fortunately there was nothing inside it to cause suspicion, so we proceeded apace to the gate.
The plane was still physically there when we got to the gate, but the agent said the door was closed and the plane was gone. Indeed, the waiting area was vacant, and the door to the gangway was closed. I pleaded our trip to Hawaii and that his clock showed 8:03 so we were on time. I feared that they would not honor our discount tickets for another flight. He said NO firmly and booked us on another flight through Detroit leaving in 1/2 hour. Since this seemed like only a half hour delay, I was comforted.
We had made arrangements to meet my sister-in-law Carolyn, Dale's widow, in Minneapolis for our originally scheduled change of planes there. Since our diverted route took us to Detroit instead of Minneapolis, we called her from phone in the plane. This is the only time I've used those phones, and they aren't quite as expensive as I had been lead to believe. Carolyn works nights and didn't answer the phone that morning, so I had to leave the message that we had been diverted and wouldn't be able to see her after all.
Landing in Detroit was eerie because of very dense fog. It seemed unnatural and reminded me of similar scenes in the movies. Even though the sun was up, Detroit seemed to be trapped in a ghostly foggy night. We landed without incident and deplaned to discover that our next flight departed from a gate far, far away. We were at the end of concourse C and our next flight was to board from a gate at the very end of concourse D. It was a very long walk.
Once we arrived at that gate, we learned that our next flight from Milwaukee was delayed because of that heavy fog in Detroit. To this day I cannot understand how our flight from St. Louis was able to land in the fog whereas the other flight from Milwaukee was unable to land. I was interested to walk around the airport, so Mom sat with my carry-on bag. (Her bag had been checked through in St. Louis.) The Detroit airport is huge, with a central hub housing ticket counters, baggage claim, restaurants, etc. I returned tired.
Mom was thirsty and went for a drink of water. Since I was tired, I sat with the carry-on bag ... and began to be concerned as Mom did not return after a reasonable time ... nor did she return after an extended time. As I began to consider the problem of Mom lost in the airport, I realized that she probably would not know what a courtesy phone was, nor would she be likely to "bother" of those busy people working at the airport, so paging her probably wouldn't work. But neither could I think of any better approach given the vast expanse of that terminal.
I had just about made up my mind to have Mom paged, when it was announced that our flight had just been canceled. The plane from Milwaukee also went to Hawaii without us. The announcement instructed passengers to queue up at the gate to make reservations for other flights to their destinations. There were immediately 80 people in line at the counter. I wasn't particularly slow to get into line, but Mom and I had picked seats close to the concourse and far from the counter. What a dilemina, Mom is lost and we need to change our flights ASAP. Besides that, I am tired from previous walking and have a carry-on bag to tote.
I was standing patiently, impatiently in line in shell-shocked wonderment, realizing that it would take forever to get to the front of the line to change flights when another announcement suggested that passengers could also use the local telephones to make their reservations. For once, I was in the right place and got to those phones immediately. The whole time I was in line or at the phones, I nervously watched the entrance to that area for Mom - who was still lost. It was more than a little frustrating that people sat down to the phones on either side after me and finished before I did. My alacrasy in getting to the phone seemed to be rewarded by getting the slowest, most incompetent clerk.
Once we were finished making the reservations, I was told that I had to physically pick up the new ticket at a Northwest ticket counter. So I lugged the carry-on bag back the length of the concourse and corridors to the Main Concourse, all the while alertly scanning the tide of faces for my mother. I had not found Mom by the time I arrived at the Main Concourse, and after making the circle of it, neither did I find a Northwest ticket counter. I asked and was informed that the Northwest ticket counters were in a separate area on other side of airport beyond concourse D where I had started.
So I returned to gate where I had last seen Mom, but didn't see her or find her there. By now she had been lost for the better part of an hour, so I decided to look for someone to page her ... and then was greatly relieved to see her wandering back in my direction. She smiled sheepishly and admitted that she got lost. She had walked down the aisle 100 yards to the water fountain, but apparently got confused and continued that direction instead of returning.
To Northwest ticket counter
Meal Vouchers.
Walked the half mile back from concourse D to concourse C.
This flight delayed for repairs. Good news is that part is on its way.
I went to look for Burger King. Mom declined food.
Burger King not in Main Concourse - must be near Northwest ticket counter.
Looked at monitor as I passed concourse C.
Flight status changed from delayed to on-time before my very eyes.
back to gate. Only Mom and a handful of other passengers still in lounge. Mom looked worried.
Boarded flight. Called Carolyn again and left another message.
Landed San Francisco and switched to Delta flight.
They were booked full when Northwest made reservation. We are on standby
Boarded passengers and read several standby names, borded them and read more names.
I told Mom that we'd had miserable luck all day, so should resign ourselves to spending the night in San Francisco. Better than Detroit. Most likely they'd have room for one of us but not the other.
We both got on but sat widely separated. Restful flight.
At airport no one to greet us. Paul was to have met us six hours earlier, but I had picked up a phone number that he had disconnected.
Mom's bag didn't arrive so we registered with the Delta baggage claim.
Shuttle to Miramar. Last hotel stop in Waikaikee.
Hotel had no reservation for us.
MTL voucher showed flight in Feb but lodging in May.
Hotel staff very accommodating, but no rooms.
Called twenty hotels to find us a room.
Stretch limo with bar. Mom looked tired.
Mom was up early the next day. strange.
Next day walked to pancake breakfast then to Miramar.
Two blocks to restaurant. Two blocks to Hotel, but Mom had to stop to rest on the way.
Mom sat in lobby while I went to see if I could find Paul.
Found a building I thought I recognized from his photos, but wrong one.
Found an internet cafe and looked at old e-mails to find his phone #.
Mom had gone to room.
Paul called so I helped him move furniture for new rug.
Partial Ocean view. buffet breakfast included
Booked circle island tour including Paul since I'd seen ads for $35. This one was $80, but I decided to keep it. Figured restful day for Mom.
Driver talked incessantly, interesting, native Hawaiian.
WWII, cliffs, massive ancestors, War & cliff, Buddahist temple (American built it), goldfish, Waiamia Falls, divers, pineapple plantation, rich homes
Orientation (sales)
bought lots because circle island was so good
Walked along beach back to hotel. Mom had to sit & rest every 1/2 block.
beach with Paul
Magic show
flew to Big Island (Hawaii)
circle island tour. volcano, weather vastly different, dry for airport, coffee plantation, black sand beach, island growing south, tidal wave destruction, teacher over tower, tunnel, falls, beautiful coast, diner,
driver constantly pointed out edible fruits
Had decided Mom to Dr if not better
Mom had been out shopping.
Aunt Carolyn took Mom to Royal Hawaiian Hotel. Lovely views. Pictures.
Magic show - sat at bar, told them Mom can't stand long or deal with stairs. elevator
Luau. Mom seated quickly.
I got plate for Mom, server carried it back for me.
dancers & music.
Paul & I rode canoe in on surf.
Mom said she had memories that would last her lifetime.
Return flight without incident. Got electric cars for Mom.
Same driver picked us up on return. No comment when I told him we'd missed our plane. Never, ever take Metro East Shuttle.
Dropped Mom then me.
slept
Awoke to message from Mom that she was at hospital for "procedure."
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