Curiouser and curiouser...

Last week Tom had to travel to Ohio for his sister's funeral. To say the least he was devastated. We had arrived in Ohio a year and a half ago for her retirement party, only to hear she had been having headaches. To make a long story short, within a few weeks she was diagnosed with cancer. The doctors found a large tumor on her brain, operated, and it was hoped she would make a miraculous recovery. Sadly, that was not to be.

So Tom arrived at the airport Thursday afternoon, and checked in. I watched him go through security and disappear down the hallway, hoping there would be no problems. Normally, that would have been the case, but this time things just all went wrong.

As he relates the story to me, he arrived at the gate and was later informed the plane would be delayed for four hours. There was some sort of mechanical problem they had to repair. Two things here, first Tom has a real aversion to riding on planes that have mechanical problems, even if repaired. Second, Tom has a real aversion to waiting for anything.

So he informed the nice lady, Wendy, at the ticket counter that he had to go to a funeral the next day and needed to get to Ohio quickly. The funeral was supposed to be Saturday, but to him the story sounded better if he said it was to be on Friday.

Wendy found a plane, on another airline that was leaving soon. It would go by way of Denver and get him to Ohio about the same time he was scheduled to arrive that evening. Great! He needed to get on that plane. There were only two seats left, so Wendy snagged one for him.

There was one catch to this scenario. The plane was about to leave immediately, so Tom needed to board pronto. Wendy grabbed Tom's hand and began to scurry toward the gate with him in tow. Tom still has a problem walking, and it would have been best if they had gotten a wheelchair, but there was no time. The plane was about to depart.

But while rushing through a gateway, Tom caught his foot on a metal post and stumbled. Usually, I would have been there to catch him, but alas, not this time. Tom hit the floor, and he hit it hard. His knees were scraped and he was actually knocked unconscious for a few seconds.

Wendy immediately wanted to rush him to the first aid station, but Tom was insistent that he catch that flight. So in a few minutes, she managed to shove him inside the door of the plane just as they were closing the doors. Wendy had assured him she would take care of having his suitcase delivered to Ohio, and took his tickets and his baggage claim check so she could handle it for him.

Tom was justifiably worried about his suitcase, seeing that it contained his blood pressure pills, the clothing he needed for the funeral, and his "book." Tom has a notebook he carries everywhere. All the phone numbers, names and information his life contains are housed in that precious book. It's a carryover from the days when he made five or six estimates a day for his Tree Service, and it's still vitally important to him.

So Tom watched as Wendy extracted his bag from a cart below, and indicated that yes, that was the card with his most important phone numbers. Wendy was able to take the card and copy the information, which she delivered to him before his plane took off; but she explained that she could not actually remove anything from the bag or bring him the entire bag. Bummer!

The plane took off, with Tom on board, knees and elbows bleeding and leg encased in an ice pack as it began to swell up like a balloon.  He didn't even have a coat due to the fact it was rather warm in Tucson and he had reasoned that he could extract his coat when he arrived in Ohio.  But that was not to be.

Tom arrived at 11:45 PM, Thursday evening, but the bag was nowhere to be found.  Over the course of four days, Tom and Joe (his brother) made four trips to the airport, washed his clothes several times, and bought Tom a new suit for the funeral.  But still there was no suitcase to be found.

Tom called me and begged me to call the Tucson airport and ask for Wendy, but I couldn't locate her.  I even went out to the airport looking for Wendy, only to be told she had begun her ten-day vacation that morning.  Rhonda (in the lost luggage department) was suitably sympathetic about the lost bag, but it was still missing.

On Monday evening, Tom arrived home, but his bag didn't.  This was the first time I knew of the falling incident, and when Tom got up from the wheelchair and hobbled toward me I was horrified.  I took him home and fed him Ibuprophen and rubbed his leg with MSM gel.  I put antibiotic ointment on the scrapes.  The one on his left knee covered his entire kneecap and was obviously very painful.

His leg remained swollen and stiff for several days, and he reluctantly carried the despised cane for stability.  Of course he could never rest and let it heal, he just has to keep going. That's the way he is.

So each day since Tom's return, he has made phone calls to the airlines.  One place after another he tried to locate his bag, but to no avail.  Until this morning.

The call came while he was outside working on building a pen for the chickens, so I answered.  It was Natalie.  I have no idea where Natalie is, but she's apparently in some baggage-claim limbo department somewhere.   Natalie infomed me that Tom's suitcase has been found.

Wonderful!  It should arrive tomorrow evening on United Airlines.  Tomorrow evening?  Hm...  So I asked Natalie why so long?  Well, she said, it has to be flown in from Frankfort...Frankfort, Germany! 

Now, how in the world did Wendy manage to get that bag to Germany?  Curiouser and curiouser....

Comments

[Randall_D]

(joke)
A fellow walks up to the airline counter in Atlanta with 3 bags. "I'd like a ticket to Chicago for myself. Send one bag to L.A., the second bag to Quebec and the third bag to Aruba".
The ticket agent replied "Sir we couldn't possibly do that."
To which the gentleman said "Why not? You did it last month!"

[Jill]

Oh my what a story (and just when I am planning a trip next month :)

I remember the Post Office in New Zealand going through a similar situation when my mother sent a belt that my grandmother had left behind on a visit. Grandma lived in Belfast (near Christchurch NZ).

Belfast is quite well known in that part of NZ, but apparently not by those in the Post Office who were handling the package. They sent it to Belfast Ireland.

Of course it was also after months of phone calls with the Post Office, that finally this packet showed up.

Trust you have fully recovered from your trip now Tom and very sorry to hear of your loss.

[Cheryl Cholley]

Yes, things have improved since then. Tom finally got his bag back, but it took him another month to settle with the airline about the items he had to buy for the funeral. It cost him over five hundred dollars to get a suit and have it altered in time for the funeral. The finally gave him a five hundred dollar voucher for future air travel.

I'm not so sure we want to trust them with our bags, though.