Saturday, May 26, 2012

Side Trail to Home - Maybe?

Monday, May 14, 2012, 11:20am, Pacific Daylight Time. "Hank, there is smoke in the cabin, and I can smell it!", so says M a few minutes after take-off from the Palm Springs Airport on the Monday after our wonderful week celebrating the nuptials of the boy and his mate and hanging out with our expanded family (the circle is bigger). "Ladies and gentlemen, this is Captain _______, I just wanted to let you know that the crew are aware of the smoke in the cabin and we will be returning to the Palm Springs airport." After a little bit of nail-biting and hand-holding we were safety back on the ground. A day that began with an early and uneventful first shuttle and subsequent departure of two of the kid couples from the airport, now turned, let's say, a bit challenging. 
We and the last of the kid couples had arrived, checked-in, and waited to board expecting to arrive home sometime late in the evening on Monday on the East Coast. The short of it is that after some chaos regarding whether the original plane would fly (no), when would a replacement aircraft arrive from LAX (much later), should we switch to another airline (we did), we found ourselves on a series of three connecting flights to Phoenix, Charlotte (red-eye), and Richmond with an arrival on Tuesday morning at 9:00am. We departed around 6:30pm from Palm Springs and had a relatively pleasant trip home, especially since we scored two seats on the red-eye in an exit row with so much leg room we could have danced the night away. Tuesday ended up being a blur and M stayed out of school and extra day. I spent the rest of the week trying to figure out what day it was and never succeeded.

We were not the only travelers that day with a delay.  The kid couple headed for DC also had some equipment problems: during the chaos surrounding our flight and the time spent with them somehow the jet way collided with the cabin door of their departing aircraft and bent the mechanism that secures the door in the open position, which is essential in case of an emergency. The door would close properly, but that was not enough to proceed. During the several hours that mechanic spent attempting a repair (which never succeeded), more chaos ensued as those now delayed travelers try to find a way out of Palm Springs with limited options. Our kid couple opted for a cab ride to LAX and then a red-eye directly to Dulles and another cab ride over to National to nab their vehicle from the car park. They each also lost a day of school and had to make a different re-entry into their NoVA world.

Reflections: I have delayed posting this to distance these events from the amazing week in Palm Springs so not to rob those days of their significance with something pretending to be dramatic. I do not think the "smoke in the cabin" was a big deal; there was never a sense of a loss in power or control of the aircraft and by the time we had landed, most of it had dissipated. As soon as the plane landed and taxied to the end of the runway, emergency personnel and vehicles surrounded the plane. When there appeared to be no fire (I assume), the captain taxied the plane to another jet way and we exited through it with haste carrying no belongings. Later we re-entered the plane to collect our belongings and our checked bags were unloaded, the sure sign we were not going back on that plane, which I would have been hesitant to board anyway. So, did our lives flash before us? No. Did we have a sinking feeling in our stomachs? Yes, primarily due the to a series of quick banking turns and a rapid descent to the airport, but there probably was an element of impending doom affecting us. Did we have sweaty palms? Yes, but who knows if that were some internal panic or just some serious hand-holding. Did we breathe easier once on terra firma? Yes, I may have held my breath for a few minutes on descent; who could remember? I do remember distinctly when we exited the jet way and saw the kid couple with mildly distressed looks on their faces that I could not utter any kind of greeting, and when the youngest daughter hugged me and asked what happened I could barely croak out, "There was smoke in the cabin" and squeezed her a little bit tighter and longer than usual with moist eyes. I also remember that for several hours I found my self occasionally taking a deep breathe and blowing it out along with whatever pent up tension needed to be released and giving M an appreciative look and a gentle hand-squeeze just make sure we were still there together.

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