A long wait and a quick redress
A canceled flight leaves one traveler's plans up in the air. But the airline gets a nod.
For three hours, I waited. And waited. As the American Airlines terminal at Los Angeles International Airport overflowed with fuming travelers -- victims of massive flight cancellations -- one question kept running through my mind: When do I get in my car and drive to Las Vegas instead?
My flight had been scheduled to leave just before noon April 9. So I left my home in the San Fernando Valley at 9 a.m., allowing myself plenty of time to drive to LAX and get through security.
By 1 p.m., I'd be in Vegas -- enjoying a cold beverage and catching up with old friends in preparation for a wedding the next day.
Yes, I had heard about American Airlines grounding MD-80 jetliners for a Federal Aviation Administration-mandated safety inspections. But surely the short hop to Vegas -- barely long enough for beverage service -- wouldn't be affected, I thought.
Then the delay dance began.
After arriving at the airport, I checked the departure monitors and saw that my flight was still on time. Since the aircraft had just landed from Houston, I assumed that the plane -- an MD-80 -- wouldn't be affected by the safety inspections.
Then came the first announcement over the terminal's public address system: The aircraft would need to be checked, like all the rest. But it would take just 15 minutes.
It could have been worse. While I waited, another announcement was made. The pilot for a Chicago flight introduced himself and informed his crew and passengers that they didn't have a plane. But they were looking for one, he said.
Fifteen minutes came and went without a word. As noon approached, I began thinking about making my very first road trip to Las Vegas.
Twenty minutes later, I received an e-mail update from American Airlines on my Blackberry: The new departure time would be 1:10 p.m.
As the delays mounted, the terminal began to resemble the memorable scene from "Gone With the Wind" -- all those people laid out on the streets of Atlanta. Travelers sat on the floor, waiting in lines that didn't seem to go anywhere. The stalemate was broken just once: The pilot of the Chicago flight announced that he had a plane. The restless crowd roared with applause.
No such luck for me. At 1:30 p.m., the airline e-mailed me another update: The flight was canceled.
I girded myself for the drive to Vegas, trying to figure out what time I'd be checking into my hotel room. I couldn't help but think that if I had only started the drive at 9 a.m., when I left for the airport, I'd be on the outskirts of town right now.
