When I got
off the plane, everything happened so fast. I walked out of the tunnel and
looked around at the unfamiliar surrounds. Faces I didn’t know. The faces were
hoping to see their children, grandchildren, husbands, or wives. I didn’t
recognize a soul. I was alone in Denver, Colorado and didn’t know anyone for
hundreds and hundreds of miles. UNREAL.
The space was
vast and chaotic. People standing around, and others were moving in all
directions trying to get to their gate. It was so surreal that I can really
only remember the experience in black and white. I felt as though a movie was
on TV and I was a viewer. I had to remind myself to pick up my feet and move.
This is real life. Instead of appearing confused, I followed the crowd with my
camera bag, backpack, and cross body purse.
We all
looked like we knew where we were going. Maybe some did. I, however, approached
a new section of the airport which was just as chaotic. Escalators went up on
my left. On my right, there were escalators that went down. If I went forward,
it looked like a never ending corridor to nowhere, or everywhere, depending on
how you want to see it.
I walked over to the middle of this giant room with a chasm in the middle and
there was a map, similar to those you’d find in a mall. It might as well been
written in Japanese, because the 3 of us who were standing there made different
confused gestures. Mine was resolve.
My next
move, and my bags were getting heavy, took me closer to the down escalators. I
really only walked over there to look at everyone’s face. ‘Do they know where
they’re going?’ was my thought. I searched faces for some sign of knowledge.
This is
where I get goosebumps when I think back on it…
Seemingly out of nowhere, a lady in the crowd
had a friendly face. She smiled at me.
“Do we go
down to get our luggage? I’m not sure how to find baggage claim.” That’s what I
asked her, conjuring my best attempt at composure.
She stopped
and explained some sort of gibberish about, ‘go here, go there, tuck, roll, do
a cartwheel, and it’ll be on your left’. I know she saw the slump in my
shoulders because she smiled again and said, “I’ll help you. Follow me.”
We proceeded
down the escalator, to the next floor. Now we were in some sort of alternate
reality which only compounded my confusion. Luckily, all I had to do was
follow.
At this
juncture, we had to get on a tram that would take us to a completely different
location. We boarded. There were no seats. We had to hang on to a pole for dear
life that a thousand people also touched that day. It zoomed us to a place that
magically picked up more people. This was called “2”. Apparently, I was “3”.
Now we had one more stop entitled “1” before we made it to yet another building
that held all the world’s luggage. (I wondered if this place also stored
everyone’s missing socks from the dryer, it was certainly big enough)
This lady and I chatted the entire time. We had a lot in common. Once we arrived in Neverland,
she explained where each concourse led to and from. She explained how to read
the signs that corresponded with the flight and airline. Turns out, we were on
the same plane (Seriously, with all those people in that airport. She was on
my flight).
We found the
baggage claim area and located ‘Southwest, Indianapolis’. As we waited for our
bags, we chatted. She was in Indiana at a friend’s wedding and just returned. I
told her my story. We couldn’t believe 1. that we both just came from Indy and were on the same flight and
2. that she was the person I approached. Again, UNREAL.
She found
her bag first and patiently waited for me. I spotted mine as it came closer. I
lifted it to check 1 of 2 tags. ‘Keaton Jones’. Yep, that’s my bag. Evidently I
forgot to take that out and replace it with my info. Honestly, I didn’t even
see the second identity tag. Oh, well.
As we
walked, the lady received a call from her daughter. Overhearing the
conversation, it was apparent that the daughter was running late. The lady
asked if she could help with anything else. I told her that I needed to locate
the rental car desk because of my reservation.
We walked to the desk and
realized it closed at 5 (Seriously?). Anyway, we found the help desk and I was
told I needed to go to the actual car rental company (Again, seriously?).
I almost
laughed out loud at all my good luck. My new friend and I walked in the general
direction where the lady pointed. 14 miles later, I made it to doors that
looked like they led outside (Civilization!).
At another
desk, I asked a woman where I’d find the tram to pick up my rental. Depending
on the company I rented from was dependent on what lane I had to cut across
country to find.
“Go out
those doors to lane 4. A tram will be there shortly.” Easy enough (Eye roll)
My friend
and I chatted a bit longer. We knew this was the end of our encounter and the
fret on my face must have been obvious. She said, “My name is Jill and I’m
going to give you my phone number. If you need ANYTHING while you’re in Denver,
call or text me.”
I gave her
my number and she text me right away. We were fast friends. I told her I’d not
bother her if at all possible and she told me not to worry. I could call for
anything.
She turned
right, and I turned left…
God sent me
an angel. Nothing more, nothing less. I would have been in that place for hours
if it wasn’t for her, and I’d be frustrated beyond what I already was. Thank
you, God. You knew what I needed, when I needed it, and you delivered! I owe it
to all of you, who prayed for me and my safety and wellbeing. It worked! God
showed up in Jill. I’ll never forget how kind and patient she was with me.
Deep breath…
I half
walked, half ran across 4 lanes of traffic (with a suitcase, backpack, purse,
and camera bag) to catch the tram that just arrived (I wasn’t going to stand
there and wait for the next one, if there was a next one). Of course it was
full. I had to stand, again, while this crazy tram driver, speed racer, made it
out of the airport to the rental car company in record time. I think he beat his PR.
Now, I had
to drag all my crap into this place to get my car. I got out last, because everyone thinks that the person closest to the door should be last off. Ugh, whatever.
Inside, I had to talk the man behind the counter out
of charging me for 10 things I didn’t need, he informed me that the airport
charges fees that weren’t included in the price I prepaid (figures…JUST GIVE ME
THE KEYS).
I find my
car, finally. I load it up and began to GPS my hotel. When I booked it, the
internet told me it was 6 miles from the airport. Hahahahaha. “The internet”…
“Here are
your directions to The Vintage Resort and Conference Hotel in Winter Park. You’ll
arrive at your destination in 1 hour and 38 minutes. WHAT???
I thought
that maybe google was broken. I cleared my search and started over. Same
results.
*Hangs head
and yells, “It figures”.
Off I go!
Long story
short, my plane arrived in Denver at 5:05 pm. I got to my hotel at 9:30 pm, Denver time (11:30 pm Indiana time),
exhausted.
I smiled
when I found out I had a surprise waiting on me at the front desk. But I digress…
That’s not
even the end…
I get to my
room, start to unpack, and hear loud yelling and screams of cheer and joy
coming from the next room (must have been a game on). I figure I’ll deal with
it. Yeah, 15 minutes later, I’m over it!
I repack the stuff I got out, hauled it back to the elevator then down
to the main level.
I explained
and they were more than accommodating. The young man gave me a room one floor up,
on an end. He assured me that I’d be alone down that hall with no disruptions
(SCORE).
Now, we are
at the end…
He let me keep the vest!! Woohoo!!
