Finding Our Way Home
Listen to Kevin read this post.
Traveling in January is always risky. I have been stuck in airports due to ice, winds, fog and flight crews stuck in traffic. This time it was lightning. After hustling my way across Dallas-Fort Worth (DFW) airport to make my flight home, I found myself sitting on the tarmac watching the thunderstorms light up the sky. While folks around me got edgy, I started a long-delayed project of organizing files on my laptop.
After two hours, the pilot announced that American Airlines flight 1430 to San Francisco was canceled. It was 10:30pm. I deplaned into a sea of people experiencing the same predicament. Hundreds rushed the customer service agents throwing insults, calling them names and making their demands.
I understood their frustration. Like me, folks were tired, hungry, and they just wanted to go home. But does lashing out on people who had no control of the situation make anything better? After a momentary glance, I took a breath and headed in the opposite direction.
As the noise dimmed, I reflected on this poem by Hiro Boga –
From the harbor of kindness
the boat of your heart sets sail
for the blurred horizon.
Be kind, sweet traveler.
We are all finding our way home.
I called the American Airlines help desk and connected with Deanna. “You must be having quite a night,” I said.
“It’s been a night like no other,” she said. “How can I help you?”
I apologized and said I wouldn’t take much of her time. Within minutes Deanna put me on the first flight home and offered a hotel voucher. I said it was already midnight and I’ll just stay at the airport. She gave me miles instead. I thanked her, and she said, “No sir, thank you for your kindness.”
The 7–11 was still open so I grabbed a large coffee and some instant noodles, settled into a quiet corner, activated my playlist of favorite songs and resumed my file organizing project. The airport got eerily quiet as the night progressed, and I found deep appreciation in the stillness that followed the chaos.
It was a gift that I didn’t expect. I closed my computer and wandered the empty corridors that were once filled with angry people. I wondered where they were and how their spirits were faring. Did choosing breaking behaviors impact their night? For my part, my interaction with Deanna set me on a path to take a not-ideal situation and experience some serenity.
By 10am, I made it safely to San Francisco, where Greg shuttled me home, fixed me a mug of hot cocoa, and tucked me in for a long nap.
It wasn’t until I woke up that I learned about the tragedy of American Airlines flight 5342. I thought about the people on that plane — many of them children with such promising futures — just wanting to find their way home.
I thought about Deanna and her colleagues at American Airlines who must have known about the tragedy as they were being confronted by all of these angry folks, and yet they still maintained their composure.
I thought about my fellow passengers on flight 1430 who were sitting on the tarmac just as flight 5342 and the Blackhawk helicopter collided in DC. Were they feeling a sense of gratitude and relief that the inconvenient night we spent at DFW was a small price to pay to get home safely?
And I thought about the millions of people in the United States who are labeled immigrants who call this country home. Some have legal documents and some do not. Some have lived here for years and some have just arrived. Some 83% of the people who live in the United States share that same legacy as descendants of immigrants who voluntarily left a place they once called home to find their way to a new home with the hope of building a better future for their descendants. For us. Some of our ancestors had documents, and some of them had none.
According to the dictionary, home is a noun, adjective, adverb, and verb. Beyond that, home is a feeling. It’s about feeling safe. Feeling welcomed. Feeling like we belong. The quality that makes a home is kindness, which seems to be sorely lacking in our society.
I invite you to take in the words of Hiro Boga and be kind — to yourself and to others — as we all find our way home.
