I’m finally back in town after a week away. Had a fun time reacquainting myself with my wife and daughter. Check out Hallie‘s page for the play-by-play on that.
The flight home was interesting. There was a crowd of people at my gate trying to get to Manchester, NH. Their plane was delayed well past its original departure, so the gate area was overflowing with people. The Raleigh plane was only a little bit late in arriving. It was overbooked, however.
I waited too late to get an earlier flight. The 5 and 7 PM planes were all full. Which means some of the folks on my plane may also have been stuck with the late flight. The gate agent pleaded for volunteers to be bumped to the next morning’s flights, but few if any people accepted.
I seriously considered accepting that offer. I didn’t have much scheduled for Friday and would get home around 11 AM. Kelly was okay with my staying, since we both like free airfare. Only real problem was my need to pick up new contact lenses by noon Friday or else suffer through the weekend without them. I decided to keep my seat.
Once the plane was full (and I mean every last seat), the flight attendents pleaded once again for volunteers. A man was waiting who desperately needed to fly that night. Even when we learned he was on his way to a funeral, no one jumped. An attendent mumbled “wow, a bunch of toughies” as she went down the aisle.
As the plane’s door was closed, I couldn’t help but think of that poor guy who just lost his chance of attending that funeral. It could have been totally bogus, but it did get me thinking. What if the funeral was for someone really close to him? It’s bad enough losing someone you love, but to also miss your chance to pay your respects must feel as low as you can get.
The whole flight back, I kept thinking how I’d feel in his shoes. There were no heroes around when he needed one. I could have made his day but chose not to. And I regretted it. Because someday, that guy could be me.