Back in the late 80's I was doing a lot of business traveling, most along the East Coast. On one occasion, I was scheduled to attend a Monday meeting in Charlotte, NC. No problem, made the trip several times. You just drive to Houston, fly to Atlanta, change planes and fly to Charlotte.
This particular trip was different. My sons were playing in a Championship Football game in Brownsville, TX on Saturday. Therefore, my wife and I planned to drive the 500+ miles to Brownsville, see the game and drive to Houston Airport where she would drop me off for the Charlotte trip. We left for Brownsville on Thanksgiving morning (foreshadowing) and made the long and boring trip. (Learning #1: No eating establishment is open on Thanksgiving Day). Several trips across the border for shopping and then the game. We won the game and the next morning we left early to allow plenty of time for the long drive and make my flight.
Unbeknownst to us, a major rain storm had gone through Atlanta that morning and Hartfield Airport had been temporarily shut down. I hit the gate with plenty of time to spare. Departure was delayed a little, but we boarded the plane with plenty of time to make the Atlanta to Charlotte connection. I had met a couple of friends from Victoria going to the same meeting. We boarded the plane and pulled away from the gate.
Then, things started to go to hell in a hand basket. We were stuck on the tarmac because of the delays in Atlanta. After sitting several hours, we took off and landed in Atlanta. Our connecting flight was gone. We were put on stand-by with about a million other people. (Learning #2: Monday following Thanksgiving is the heaviest air travel of the year).
While sitting around waiting to see if we could get on another flight, I begin to strike up a conversation with two young kids traveling with their Mother. I was teasing them that they would have to go to school the next morning without any sleep. Finally, I asked the Mother if they had been on a vacation over the long weekend. She replied, "No, they had been to Florida to bury her husband" After pulling my foot out of my mouth, I begin apologizing profusely and offering my condolences. I felt almost as stupid as I did the time I asked a young woman when her baby was due and she informed me she wasn't pregnant (Learning from another story: Never, Ever ask a woman if she is expecting).
We were all waiting on the last flight of the night to Charlotte. We had just missed the previous flight as standby and I was sure I was high on the list. So trying to recover from my other blunder, I went to the counter and told the agent, if my name came up, I wanted the family to have my place. The agent told me the family was ahead of me anyway. So I sat down and waited. Sure enough they called their name to board. The woman came up to me and said, "I don't know what you did, but thank you" I told her I was not responsible for them making the flight. She said, "I know better" and I let it go trying to regain a little respect from my earlier faux pas.
We didn't make the flight!! No flights left until 6:00am. They would put us up in a hotel and honor our tickets on the Monday morning flight.
By now it was 2:00am. My friends and I discussed going to the hotel and decided we couldn't get more than two hours of sleep and could probably get that much in the airport. Besides we hadn't had anything to eat. We quickly found out that the only food court was in the international terminal.
This is where it gets worse.
Atlanta Airport is one big sucker! Before boarding the tram to the other terminal, we put our brief cases on one of those rent a locker things. We caught the tram to the international terminal and headed to the food court. Surprise, we had to show our tickets to get in the International section. Guess where we left our tickets? After some finagling with the Eastern Airlines agent, we were given a pass. We ate and then headed back to the tram to our terminal. Surprise, Surprise, the tram quit running about ten minutes earlier. Now we had to walk back to our terminal. Charlotte had to be closer!
Once we got back, we picked out spots to sleep. I picked one close to a guy with has garment bag over his head. As I laid on the floor and was about to doze off, I heard him snoring like a freight train. I might have gotten 45 minutes of sleep before our flight the next morning.
When I got to my hotel room, I told my friends I was going to bed.
I made the meeting around 10:30.
