Mission Trip 2012 Blog 17

Wednesday, April 4, 2012. Boarding on Delta Flight 269 starts at 7:30 AM at Gate 8. We lift off from New York at 8:40 AM, 35 minutes later than the 8:05 AM time shown on our boarding passes. I learn from Delta Airlines that departure time and takeoff time are not the same in aviation speak. The aircraft touches down in Atlanta, Georgia at 10:25 AM Eastern, a one-hour 45-minute flight, 10 minutes ahead of schedule. Count that one in Delta's favor.

Upon asking and getting directions from an airport staff, not the Delta employee, whose directions go right over my head, I hop on a fast-speed concourse train to the D-Gates section of Atlanta's massive Hartfield-Jackson International Airport. A good stretch of brisk walk soon delivers me to Gate D27, with Delta Flight 5251 fixed on the screen behind the desk. Still got plenty of time on hand, so I order lunch, using my second meal voucher from Delta Airlines. Each of the vouchers is limited to $6. My order totals $7:58. I pay the $1:58 difference. Earlier in New York I had paid $2.50 after applying the breakfast voucher. I think that's very cheap of Delta Airlines. They should refund the extra money I have spent on phone calls, luggage cart, and now food, expenses I would not have without these delays.

Semi-slowly make my way back to Gate D27, where boarding is to begin at 11:51 AM, according to the boarding pass. But a different flight shows on the screen. I wait until about five minutes to boarding time. Still my flight has not posted on screen. I walk over to another desk and found out that my boarding gate has been changed to D46, much farther down the terminal. There I find out the latest Delta headache: the airplane is in maintenance! Departure time will be delayed by 30 minutes.

Thankfully, time flies, and boarding starts at 12:25 PM. Lift off from Atlanta at 12:52 Eastern Time for the 55-minute flight to Evansville, Indiana, where we touch down at 1:47 PM Eastern, which is 12:47 PM Central Time, the local time in Evansville, and Owensboro, my hometown. Stepping off the plane I engage in a chat with Rev. Theophilus Allen, a pastor friend who was on this flight. Theo and I haven't seen each other for over 20 years; so we hurry to catch up on one another's families. Inside the Evansville Regional Airport terminal, Pastor Allen introduces me to a beautiful, tall lady, his youngest daughter, who was just a year old when I saw her years ago in Liberia.

Ray Blair, my ride, walks over, as I stand with my luggage next to baggage claim. Miss Harriet is not here; too bad I did not show up yesterday when she took the day off just to meet me at the airport. But that's OK, Delta, things happen, and delay flights are a staple for travelers, right?

Ray and I exchange greetings, hugs. “You haven't changed one bit!” I say. “I haven't grown one inch”, he replies. The one-hour ride in Ray's pickup truck from the airport to Owensboro is shortened by our friendly conversations that only crawl to an end as Ray pulls up into my driveway. It's 2:10 PM Central. Ray stops the engine, and I cruise into prayer, thanking the Lord for traveling grace, for protecting, providing for us all. (Earlier I had asked the Lord to forgive me for whining so much about the delays.)

Only T (my son Tojyea) is home, with Mattie (the dog, who keeps climbing on me, hugging my leg, sniffing, making high-pitch noises, speaking doggish). Miss Harriet is at work, and Favor (our seven-year-old is at the Boys & Girls Club). It's just great to be home ... in one piece.

Harriet later calls after 3:30 PM, when she got off work. She passes at the Boys & Girls Club to pick up Favor, and upon their arrival home, the informal welcome party is in full swing. Welcome balloons deck the dinner table. The celebration will continue when my family gets back from Wednesday evening service after 8 PM. I stay home to steal some sleep, owing to the 5-hour difference in time between Liberia and Owensboro, and the loss of sleep on the crazy ride back home. Taking it all in, I realize this is the first time I have been away from my family for an entire month, since Harriet and Daneto (18 months-old then) arrived in America seventeen years ago.

Will I actually buy a Delta Airlines ticket again? For trips within the US, maybe. Not for international travel, even if I must pass through Europe, as in my previous trips to Africa. Prior to our mission trip, a person or two had said, “Delta is one of the worst airlines out there.” I doubted it then, suspecting such a charge to be an exaggeration. I'm a believer now. But then I have that $100 appeasement voucher towards my next trip with Delta, where on-time departure and/or arrival is low on the ladder of priority. But what's the big deal if you make it home safely, whether you've lost one day of your life or not. I know I should remain in gratitude mode. The Lord surely delivered me from “the snare of the fowler” (Psalm 91:3), that bird-strike that grounded our airplane. ~End Blog 17~