May 2, 2009
Traveling
Posted in Flying, Jon, Kate, Safety Concerns, Sensory Issues, Travel, Vacation tagged www.thefutureisred.com at 9:00 am by jlewicky
I met a new friend this week in the blogosphere/chat room/social networking world. Her travel and life blog is www.TheFutureIsRed.com, and her twitter name is @thefutureisred. She is guiding me through the maze of blogs and social networks. To her, I am forever greatful.
My new friend travels. Really travels. With her husband and five-year-old daughter. I’m traveling vicariously through her. She makes it look easy. I hesitated before I told my husband Steve about her blog. It doesn’t take much for him to get the travel bug.
I’m not good at travel. I love the destinations, but the journey is intimidating to me, to say the least. A large part of me has always been like this. But moreso since I’ve traveled with the kids.
The trip from our home in San Francisco to New Jersey made us famous. We were going to Steve’s parents, and from there to Long Beach Island for a week with family (admittedly, not an exotic location, but good for our situation). When we got to SFO, we realized that we had left the carseat in the satellite lot. We wanted two-year-old Kate to use it on the plane, but more importantly, we needed it for New Jersey. Should he get a cab back to the lot and get it? Should we call his parents and ask them to run out and buy a cheap one? We decided that there was no time to go get it.
Jon was only four. He had just waited through the hell that is the line before security. Hard for any kid, but especially for a kid with sensory needs who really needs to run and jump. By the time we got to the metal detector, he was beside himself. Kate was only two, and not feeling much better. Heck, I wasn’t doing that much better than either of them.
The routine is simple: we put everything on the belt, Steve goes through the metal detector first, followed by Jon, then Kate, I bring up the rear, and we gather the kids, and then we gather our belongings. Distracted by the carseat issue, Steve started to take everything off the belt as soon as he got through. JON MADE A BREAK FOR IT. He ran, nay, SPRINTED, through and out of the security area. Kate had just gone through the metal detector when someone screamed “BREACH!!!!!!!!! EVERYONE FREEZE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Steve took off after Jon, and the TSA agent took off after Steve. They told us that if Jon had gone any further, they would have emptied the entire United Airlines terminal. THE ENTIRE TERMINAL. I was not allowed to go through the metal detector, and had to stand there watching my two-year-old, terrified, screaming for me.
I don’t think the preceding paragraph describes a fraction of how terrible it was. As a special needs parent, I’ve learned to ignore other peoples’ nasty looks for the most part, but I felt the eyes of every person behind me boring into the back of my head. Jon was terrified, Kate was terrified, Steve had practically been tackled. I finally got through the metal detector and went to my children. Steve was holding a screaming Jon tighter than he’d ever held him as the agents went over every inch of him with that stick thing. I was trying to calm Kate. To be fair, I’ve never seen TSA so apologetic. When they finally decided that my four-year-old special needs son wasn’t a front for terrorism and let us go, we made our way to the far end of the terminal. We sat down and sighed. Steve called his parents to ask them to buy a new damn carseat. The kids were calm, even playful. No one was staring.
Until a TSA agent approached us. He was so glad to have found us, he had a few more questions. We gave him every piece of information we ever knew about our personal identities. People noticed.
Finally, we were seated on the plane. We could leave the entire event behind and focus on getting to the beach. Until we saw the flight attendant pointing to us, and, big surprise, a TSA agent approached. She was SO sorry, but needed a few more pieces of information.
We finally got there, and the rest of the trip was relatively uneventful. And we’ve even traveled since. Jon has become a great flyer. And Steve and I are more vigilant than ever.
I don’t know that there’s a lesson here. I wish I had come through this with a new insight to life, some amazing revelation. More just a horrible story. And even more intimidation toward travel.
frogger11758 said,
May 12, 2009 at 10:33 pm
I’ve read through this story twice and it still amuses me, in a sad sort of way. The idea of a young child being a terrorist threat is a hysterical notion, but also a testament to our times I suppose. Makes you really pity the airport security though. I bet they go through this a ton.
jlewicky said,
May 13, 2009 at 9:33 am
Yes, frogger, absolutely. After I was able to step back from it, it really is humorous, and I feel the same way about the TSA. They did what they could, you know? And honestly, it would seem that they kept trying to let us off “easy”, and that’s why they had to keep coming back.
Leigh said,
May 15, 2009 at 1:22 pm
What a story! I’m glad security was in some way helpful and glad you continued to travel after.
Joyce said,
June 10, 2010 at 5:55 pm
Hats off to you and your husband for keeping cool… esp. for you children. I went through something very similar. My husband was deployed and my kids were 3.5 and 4 months – both boys. The older one is autistic and nonverbal. When it was time to board the flight, he was terrified and wouldn’t stop screaming. In my rage, after telling the Hawaiian Airlines agent that I needed to preboard as my son has special needs (and was denied of course), I ignored everyone while trying to calm my child. In all that mess, the agent had the nerve to approach and say, “If you dont calm him down, you’re not getting on this flight.” I was too concerned for my son at that point to care but it was the TSA agent who made all the difference. She offered assistance and in the end… helped me calm him enough to move him from the terminal into the boarding area. I will never forget her kindness. Of course, I called and wrote headquarters about the incident. Almost immediately, I got a letter of apology and reassured me that it would be taken care of. It’s nice to know that other people still care without having to ask if there’s anything wrong with him…