Miracles in Atlanta

It was Sunday, July 13.
The day after the Virginia Maiden's Quest had ended.
The day before Katelin was to depart for Ukraine.

We boarded our flight in Richmond, VA, all set for several hours of travel, followed by a big Sunday afternoon nap in our own beds.

As we neared the Atlanta airport, where we were to make a connecting flight home, the captain's voice crackled into the loudspeaker, explaining that the airport in Atlanta was shut down due to area thunderstorms. We had been circling in the air, waiting for it to re-open, but since we were running out of gas, it was necessary to refuel at a tiny airport 75 miles away.

No problem. I had an intruiging book in hand, and therefore, didn't think much about being slightly delayed. We had a two-hour layover in Atlanta. I was pretty sure we'd still make our flight.

The minutes ticked by.
At long last, our plane was fueled up and the Atlanta airport was ready to receive us.
I finished the last page of my novel by the time we touched down in Atlanta and checked my watch. 2:30 p.m. Our flight was supposed to depart for Houston at 2:34 p.m. Hmmm... It didn't look like we'd make it - unless the next flight had also been delayed.

As Katelin and I manuevered our way off the plane, into the airport, and over to the nearest moniters, we could only gaze around in utter amazement at the sweeping mass of people swarming in all directions. The main aisle was clogged with a jostling crowd of humanity walking to various gates and concourses. Every chair at every gate was occupied. People lined the walls sitting, standing, lounging. Food and bathroom lines were the longest I'd ever seen. There must have been thousands upon thousands of people everywhere.

Checking our flight status on the moniters, we were relieved to see that we hadn't missed our flight to Houston after all! It, too, had been delayed 3 more hours. Fine. That gave us time to eat an early dinner at a leisurely pace. After a delicious meal at Wendy's, we checked our flight again and saw we'd been delayed another hour. Now, we were scheduled to leave Atlanta around 6:30 p.m. So much for an afternoon nap!

With plenty of time on our hands, we split ways. I headed to the bookstore to browse for several hours while Katelin tried to find a semi-quiet spot in which to make several phone calls. Some time later, at about 5:00, my cell phone rang. It was my dad. He told me that according to our airline's website, our Houston flight had been completely cancelled for the day. Uh-oh. Not good. He advised me to find out what was going on and if there was any way we could get a different flight home. Right.

Quickly locating Katelin, I explained the issue at hand and we dashed off for our gate. Along the way, we noticed that our airline's customer service line was literally half a mile long. Sensing that it might be important to be in that line, I stationed Katelin there while I hurriedly walked the remaining distance to our gate.

After waiting in a short but slow line to be helpd, I learned from the man behind the counter that our flight had indeed been cancelled. He sent me to a different gate for "processing." I hoped this meant that we'd be given a different flight home.

While I stood in line behind about 20 people waiting to be "processed, " my Dad and I kept up intermittant communication via cell phone. He was doubtful that we'd be able to make another flight home on that airline, so he had begun an internet search for tickets on any other airline flying to Houston. I was 3 people away from the counter when Dad called saying he had found 6 tickets left on a Continental flight. They cost $341 each. Did we want them?

Gulp. That seemed an unnessecary expense to me, after we had already paid that amount for the original tickets. I was sure the airline representative I was about to speak to behind the counter would be able to provide a just resolution to our problem. My dad said to call the minute I learned something, so he could purchase the tickets if necessary.

Finally, it was my turn to be "processed." After waiting over an hour in line, I learned that no more flights would be departing for Houston until Tuesday.
"Tuesday???" I asked incredulously. Yes, Tuesday.
"Otherwise, I can offer to fly you to another city," the representative explained.
I told the ticket agent that we could get tickets home on Continental that night; but I wanted to know if Airtran would refund the money of our cancelled flight.
"You'll have to call Reservations to find that out," he said. "Or visit the Rebooking station over there." I looked over my shoulder to where he pointed, agreed to give it a try, and set off for the next long line. On the way, I called my dad and told him that we did indeed need those tickets on Contintental.

"It's too late," he said. "They've already been purchased."
Oh dear. I shouldn't have been surprised. Every other person around me was on their computer or telephone making travel adjustments. It would seem any available ticket out there was being snatched up as fast as hotcakes. "I'll keep working on something," Dad said.
Meanwhile, Katelin was still in the line for Customer Service, slowly inching her way up to the desk and making friends with everyone in line around her.

For another hour, I waited at the rebooking station. Just as I was about to talk to the representative, my dad called again. "I've purchased two tickets on a different Continental flight for you and Katelin," he said. "It will leave at 6:00 a.m. tomorrow morning. I've also made arrangments for you at a nearby hotel. The shuttle will pick you up outside." It was a relief to know that at least we had a flight home. Even though it was for Monday morning, the day Katelin needed to leave for Ukraine, it was better than Tuesday! However, I still wanted to know what Airtran was going to do about our cancelled ticket that we had spent good money on.

When it was my turn, I posed the question only to learn that I'd have to call Reservations to find out! Urgghh. "Okay, fine. What about our bags? We have to leave tomorrow morning on Continental. How can we get our bags?" I inquired.
"Check for them downstairs at baggage," the man slowly drawled.

I dragged my tired feet across the hall to where Katelin was at the head of the Customer Service line after having waited for 3 hours, and explained the situation. "Well, let's just see if we can learn anything here," she whispered. "Lots of people have been making flights or been given refunds." I totally agreed that it was worth a try - especially after she had waited so long to be at the point of receiving help!

We walked together up to the counter where we were greeted by a friendly woman. "Our flight to Houston got cancelled," I began, "and there's no more flights leaving for Houston until Tuesday. But my sister has to leave tomorrow on an international flight, and I've got to get her home in time!"
I wonder if the woman could read the desperation on my face. I was about to explain that we had seats on a Continental flight home but wanted to know about a refund, when she stopped me with a wave of her hand.
"Hold on just a second. Let me do some checking," she said.

And so we waited while she banged away on her keyboard. A tiny flame of hope began to flicker inside me. Maybe, just maybe...

The next thing I knew, the lady was printing out boarding passes and handing them to us with the words, "There's more bad weather scheduled to come in tonight, and I'd hate for you to miss your international flight tomorrow. Here's seats on a flight leaving for Houston right now. You'll have to hurry to the gate. You won't be sitting together and you won't have your bags on the flight, but at least you'll get home."
Undescribable relief flooded my heart. "Thank you SO much!" we exclaimed. "Bless you, bless you, bless you!" She smiled knowingly.

We took off running to our gate, while I explained the situation to Dad over the phone in a few hurried sentences. He seemed convinced he could cancel the tickets and hotel arrangments he had made and said, "You just get on that flight!" At 8:00 p.m. we were actually seated on a flight to Houston! I was still reeling from all that had transpired throughout the long afternoon. Katelin, meanwhile, began to make a list of all the things in her luggage that she was planning on taking with her to Ukraine that she'd now have to re-purchase or do without.

It was another hour before we took off, since we had to wait on a flight attendant to come from a plane still out on the runway! And it was two more hours before we were actually in Houston hugging our grateful and relieved parents. :)

Deciding there was a slim possibility that our luggage just might have made it onto the flight with us, we waited at the baggage carosel, inspecting all the suitcases that glided past while filling our parents in on all the glorious details of the Maiden's Quest retreat. After an hour of waiting and watching, to no avail, we decided we'd have to make arrangments to have our luggage mailed to us eventually, so we set off to find the Airtran baggage office.

Nobody was there. But the room was crammed full of suitcases. Could ours possibly...?
Dad scanned it quickly. Nothing.
Katelin stepped in and began hunting through the bags.
"Here's one!" she shouted gleefully!
Really? It was almost too much to hope for!
"And here's another one!"
Before long, all 4 of our suitcases had been located in the piles.
I was convinced they had been transported via angel's wings.

We got to bed at midnight that night. Katelin left for Ukraine at 3:30 p.m. the next day for her two-month mission excursion.

The moral of this story is that God is still in the miracle-working business.
There is just no other way to describe our experience that long day except for the miraculous working of our loving Heavenly Father.

May His Name be forever praised.
Amen and amen.