Planes, Trains & Automobiles

Michigan just might kill me.

Banana Girl had college orientation last week. We timed it perfectly. She was exempt from all final exams and had 4 days of school free. She was to fly out Saturday night, attend orientation Sunday through Tuesday, fly back Tuesday night, graduate Wednesday and leave for camp Thursday. 

As they say, man plans, God laughs.

First of all, she was attending orientation by herself. As a second-time college mom, I was okay with this, as was she. Since she is seventeen, traveling alone, and coming all the way from New Jersey, the school granted her special permission to stay in the dorms an extra night—essential, since legally she’s too young to stay in a hotel by herself.

We were all set, or so we thought. Thirty minutes before we were to leave for the airport, we heard it was closed to all incoming and departing flights due to a plane that had skidded off the runway. We checked, her flight was still on time and they were in the process of clearing the runway. So we left. Drove her to the airport. Checked her in. Checked her bags. Kissed her goodbye. Watched her get in line for TSA. Left the airport, and found out her flight was delayed, due to both the cluttered runway and storms in the Midwest (hello, Dorothy).

Great.

We spent the rest of the afternoon monitoring her, the flight and alternatives. Because she was staying in the dorms, her check-in time was supposed to be by 10 pm. When we realized that wasn’t happening, I went onto the parent page on Facebook to see what other parents could tell me. Not only were they helpful—the orientation team would be on hand, regardless of what time she arrived (poor, sleepy suckers)—but one of the moms was in the airport with her own daughter and roommate, in the same situation. They all became good friends.

The plane she was supposed to board was rerouted to Philadelphia. The flight was so delayed, they gave away the plane. The pilot was still in Philadelphia, though, so they Ubered him to Newark (seriously??). The plane was coming from Pittsburgh. My husband and I were watching the clock, calculating exactly when we’d have to leave to drive to the airport, pick her up, drive to Michigan and make it in time for orientation to start at eight thirty the next morning (who needs sleep). Finally, six hours after it was supposed to take off, it did. With her on it. They landed in Michigan and checked into the dorm after one in the morning.

Great.

Three days later, we were at it again. Only this time, her flight was cancelled. For rain. Apparently windshield wipers are overrated. Up and down the entire East Coast. The airline people at the airport weren’t helpful. They gave her a card with a number to call. Did I mention she’s seventeen? And needs to get home in time to graduate the next day? So my husband booked her on a later flight and I emailed the high school principal in a panic. But my panic didn’t stop there. Because if the East Coast flights were cancelled, I wanted to make sure she got on a flight that was going to make it home, regardless of airline. So after multiple calls to airlines, we had them rebook her on another airline that arrived in Philadelphia, where her grandparents would pick her up. I’d meet them at their house and drive her home. Perfect.

Ha.

She had luggage that was checked. Into her original flight. Where it went after that is anyone’s guess. She landed in Philadelphia. It didn’t. Both airlines blamed the other. Neither wanted the lost luggage claim filed with them. They gave her the runaround. Did I mention she’s seventeen? Finally, they gave her forms to fill out and sent her on her way, leaving us to deal with the “my luggage is gone forever” hysteria (thanks for that!). 

We got her home. She made it to both graduation practice and graduation. She went off to the all-night graduation party sponsored by the school.

My phone rang at two forty-five the next morning. It was the luggage delivery guy. Calling me from outside of my in-laws’ house to tell me he had her suitcase. It took me entirely too long to figure out he was in Philadelphia and not outside my house, but it was dark, early, and I was awakened from a sound sleep. 

Problems solved. Eventually.

Needless to say, we’re driving out to Michigan this fall. But Thanksgiving? Oy.