Planes, Trains and Automobiles: or Lessons Learned While Stranded at Portland Airport

So I was supposed to fly last night out of Portland to Denver, which of course thanks to a snarly Christmas Blizzard that has buried my poor puppies and my Jeep in 2 - 3 feet of snow, was canceled. I drove up from Corvallis anyway because trying to call Frontier Airlines was useless. When I got to the counter they said "Yup your flight is canceled, all our flights are full at this point, but we can get you home on the 27th...or you could try another airline, rumor has it Alaska airlines is adding flights."

So a question came to mind which I didn't voice because I was being filmed for the Portland news doing my best suffering with sunny resolution. (Actually I was feeling pretty sunny because I've had a string of things work out for me lately) And the reporter was cute so I wanted to charm her with my zenlike acceptance of cruel fate. Any way the question went something like "And what exactly are you doing to help out the 2 days worth of people you've got stranded here?"

Short answer for Frontier is...Not Much.

(I later had a discussion with some of the personnel who explained quite reasonably that ALL of Frontiers flights have been affected as they all originate or end in Denver. The Portland staff was lobbying for a bigger plane but...)

It's not Frontier's fault, but they could have made some gesture in the face of their inability to drum up more planes. A voucher, a meal coupon, something.

Alaska however has been pulling planes out of a hat and taking everyone's passengers to Denver. I may even get on one myself tomorrow. I am a frequent flyer on Alaska, but this holiday season they are my hero.


So I've had some time in the airport. I luckily have an extraordinarily accommodating friend who lives in Vancouver (2 exits from the airport) who let me steal his older son's bed last night. But counting my brief stay at the counter (and on the news) last night I'm working on hour 16.

At about 12:30 I heard some sobbing at the gate where I was standing by. I looked and saw a lovely woman wiping tears from her eyes. She was sitting alone. I have a real hard time inserting myself into stranger's private moments so I waited a little bit and then as I was headed to the common area to hit the web, I asked if everything was alright. She replied with uncommon candor (which is something I adore) that "No things are pretty bad."

You see, she's afraid of flying. She thought she had it under control, but on the way to meet her friends and a guy who has expressed some interest in her, she had an anxiety attack on the plane and had to get off. She was embarrassed and disappointed, tragically so in fact. But that's not the hardest part. No the hardest part was the Watcher was taking over. You know that little voice in your head that is the least forgiving voice you will ever hear. She was positively crucifying herself for being unreliable, weak, letting her friend down, sabotaging a budding relationship...etc. She wasn't frantic or unreasonable in her outward behavior, but that Watcher was torturing her mercilessly.

Folks, I gotta say, living is pretty hard stuff. If you aren't a cheerleader for your team who will be?

Anyway,.I tried my best to distract her from that voice in her head and tell her that I would have to forgive myself were I in her place. And maybe share a little of the hope that's been keeping me going for a while now. She seemed to come around a bit. I hope that I talked her into giving herself a break.

In closing, a lot of my Christmas wishes for myself and my family have come true. If I have any left I'll use my next one to imagine that she made it through the next flight fine and is safely wrapped in the warm embrace of loving friends in San Jose.

Merry Christmas everyone.