I don't remember my first flight because I was 6 months old when my folks took me to England to meet the family, and I'm sure Evan won't remember his, but I wanted to document it for him. I remember how in later years, as a kid, traveling abroad with my parents, how I would always get excited as we sat buckled in our seats as the plane began to make that final turn out onto the runway. The anticipation would build in those last final moments before takeoff. Then the whining of the jet engines would become a roar as 175,000 lbs of aircraft would blast down the runway at nearly 200mph, only to watch the ground drop away beneath me, climbing ever so steeply into the clouds. It seemed so surreal to me, how this was all possible; how such a large heavy object could get off of the ground. All these years later, I still never tire of takeoff. To this day, I still spend a lot of time looking out the window on flights. A little over 100 years ago, a view from those heights must have seemed unimaginable.
Now, poetic paragraphs about the wonders of flight aside, there is the sobering reality of air travel in the post 9/11 world. Add an infant to the equation, and you could be in for a rough day. We arrived at the airport with plenty of time to spare. Anticipating the usual security delays, we made every preparation possible, trying to streamline our packing as to not cause any delays. I'm happy to say we negotiated the security obstacle without delay. In fact, I think most people would be impressed with how quickly Genevieve and I handled this obstacle. Considering we took up about 8 of those gray airport screening trays filled with our stuff, not to mention carry on bags and a stroller, and having to take our shoes off, we made it through security and reassembled ourselves on the other side fairly quickly without holding up the line. Now if only the rest of the traveling public would treat getting through security with such urgency and preparedness.
Now in the old days, Southwest used to allow families traveling with infants to board the planes first. This is no longer the case. I'm sure someone probably screwed that one up by taking full advantange of the situation and bringing sets of twice removed relatives on the plane with them, enraging other passengers patiently waiting their turn. Now, in order to get on board first, you have to check in as part of the "A Group." The only way to do that is to check in online on the Southwest website 24 hours in advance, and I do mean
exactly 24 hours in advance, not a minute earlier, not a minute later. If your flight is at 11:50am, and you check in at 11:51am, it's "B" or "C" Group for you baby, and you get to stand there and watch as everyone else gets board the plane before you. The day before our flight, I sat in front of the computer at the Lamberts house, watching the clock edge ever closer to 11:50am, our scheduled flight time the following day. I even checked the Google clock to make sure I had the right time. I checked in at exactly 11:50am. For Me, Genevieve, and Evan, I got A-28, A-29, and A-30. Sounds good right? WRONG. I forgot to hit "Select All" when attempting to check us in. This seemingly harmless miscue cost me nearly an entire second, and who knows how many seats in the pecking order. We could have been A-1 through A-3 for all I know.
Once on board the aircraft, Genevieve and I moved into uncharted waters with speed and skill. We checked the lower portion of our stroller in at the gate, and carried Evan onto the plane in his car seat. We navigated the cabin like Navy Seals storming a hostage situation. As seasoned travelers, we knew what it was like to be stuck behind the oblivious couple with several screaming children, trying frivolously to cram an over-sized carry-on into the overhead. We were
not going to be that couple, no matter the cost. We made a B-line for the rows over the wing, the safest part of the plane, as per my father-in-law, US Army Col. Frank P. Lambert (Ret.) As other passengers scrambled for seats for fear of having to sit next to one another, I spotted an empty row of 3 seats on the port side of the aircraft, directly over the wing. Not wanting the added duty of having to rip the door off in the event of a "water landing," we avoided the Exit Row directly behind us. (Note to self: Seats in front of the Exit Row DO NOT RECLINE.) Genevieve and I got Evan situated in his window seat with time to spare. I packed our carry-ons into the overhead in seconds flat. Diaper Bag? CHECK, extra wipies? CHECK, snacks for the flight? CHECK
Operation "Get On Plane" Complete. Now we can relax, sort of. Genevieve and I were worried about Evan's ears, if he had any issues with air pressure, we could all be in for a long flight, most importantly, we didn't want him to be in pain. We taxied down the runway, the excitement began to build. This is my son's first flight, he's going to meet my Mom & Dad for the
first time. How exciting is
this? Just as we turned the corner and held on the runway for takeoff, Evan began to cry loudly. I thought, "Oh man, this is it," he's going to unleash holy hell on the passengers of this flight and I'm going to be the Dad who's sweating bullets trying to calm his inconsolable son. I started to hit the panic button, there were a few tense moments there, but as the plane began to roar down the runway, Evan settled down. We took off into the sky, the ground dropped below us, and Evan fell quiet, it was a beautiful thing. He was relatively calm the rest of the flight, even slept through the landing.
Now after all of that, we arrived in Ft. Myers 25 minutes early. My folks were waiting for us in the terminal and got to meet my son for the first time. It was a great moment, and it made all of the hassle of getting there worthwhile.
