When planning the US trip, I also wanted to visit New York before going to Milledgeville. But I made separate plans from the other group, as I wanted to do a New York trip together with a friend from high school for a long time.
That’s why I also booked another flight to Atlanta, not on Friday, but on Saturday. The plan was to arrive at ATL at 2pm, get the rental car, and then head straight to the baseball game.
I did not arrive at ATL on Saturday at 2 pm
I arrived there around 35 hours later, on Monday, just before 1am in the night.
Here’s a “brief” summary of my journey
Saturday
Saturday, 7 am
Woke up early, after a last night out with a few way too expensive cocktails in the West Village. Ate a bagel. Took the Long Island Railroad to JFK Airport.
Saturday, 9 am
Arrived at JFK Airport. Paid around $16 for the trains from Penn Station to JFK. Felt the relief of leaving this city behind me, which amazed me, but also felt out of my tax bracket.
Saturday, 10 am
Made it through TSA. Not too long lines, but nevertheless a busy airport.
Saturday, 11 am
Boarding. Had to give up my carry-on luggage at the gate. Got a middle seat assigned. A weird American dude to my left who told me his fiancé just chickened out of their marriage plans. To the right, an American woman, who complained about the federal government forbidding her to hit on her vape on the plane. She did it anyways.
After boarding was complete, we taxied to the runway. And then we waited. And waited.
Pilot announced that a storm was approaching. But still 20 planes in queue for takeoff.
Then the storm arrived. A heavy storm. Ground stop. No plane was allowed to take off, not before the storm went away.
Saturday, 2 pm
In the United States of America, the federal government requires a plane to return to the gate within 3 hours, if it’s not able to take off. That’s what the captain announced every 30 minutes.
And that’s what we did. After 3 hours on the tarmac, we taxied back to a gate, which took another 30 minutes or so.
At first, they announced that it was unclear how we would proceed, but after a bit of confusion and a lot of complaining Americans, the flight got cancelled.
Saturday, 4 pm
Pure chaos. Every flight was cancelled. JFK is one of the busiest airports in the world. I booked with Delta; their help desk line was estimated to take 3 hours. The Delta App told me the next available flight was on Monday.
Onur called. He told me about his situation. That he was stuck in New York as well, already longer than I was. He proposed to get a rental car, drive the 14 hours down to Atlanta. As fun as this sounded, and as much as I would have liked to add this to my “Dad-Lore”, I felt already tired at this point, and didn’t want to commit to a 14-hour drive.
Next suggestion: The Flixbus from New York to Atlanta. 19ish hours. $200.
OK, I said, let’s do it. But there was a problem. My carry-on suitcase, which they took away from me at the gate, was still somewhere. And I couldn’t find a person to ask where I could get it back.
So I just walked around the Terminal, trying to find an employee to speak to. At the last gate, I found Ms. Carrie, a Delta Gate Staff member. She told me it could take hours to get my luggage back. But then she got working. Made a few calls. In the end, she was able to book me on the flight to Austin, Texas at 7 pm. From there, a flight at 5 am should have taken me to Atlanta.
Saturday, 7 pm
I boarded. Middle seat again. Less annoying seat-neighbors. And well, to cut the suspense: It happened again. 50 planes in queue for take-off, storm approaching. Ground stop. Back to gate within 3 hours.
I felt devastated. Helpless. I was completely out of control, nothing I could do. But I wasn’t. All the time, I tried to text the Delta customer support. When eventually a real person responded, I requested another rebooking with layover, to get to Atlanta ASAP.
It kind of worked. The agent was able to put me on a flight to Cleveland, Ohio at 2 pm. The connecting flight was scheduled for 7 pm.
But I needed to spend the night at JFK Airport.
Saturday, 10 pm
Hotels were far too expensive and already booked out. So, I bought a fleece blanket and cuddled myself in one of the comfier-looking seats at Terminal B, JFK Airport.
Sunday
Sunday, 8 am
I am not too picky about the places I sleep at. In fact, I have slept at many weird places. But airports are maybe the worst place to sleep at. The American interpretation of a “quiet zone” is interesting. But I made it through the night and was now very hungry.
But first, I wanted to confirm that my luggage would come with me to my destination.
So I went to the Delta Help Desk, joined the line. Only 10-15 people in front of me.
I waited more than 3 hours.
The thing that I like about customer service in the US is that they really take time for your problem. The thing that I dislike is that they take even more time for everyone in front of you.
The help desk closed when I was at the second position. At this point, I wasn’t even really upset anymore, just exhausted.
Sunday, 11 am
Grabbed something to eat. First real food in 24 hours. Had a way too expensive airport beer.
Sunday, 2 pm
Boarded again. Felt scared. Not again. We disconnected from the gate. And waited. Many planes in queue.
But then we took off.
The relief I felt when we finally left JFK after over an hour of waiting for takeoff is indescribable.
Sunday, 4 pm
Arrival at Cleveland-Hopkins International Airport. Way smaller than JFK. Everything felt way calmer. After leaving the plane, I quickly went to a staff member to ask if my luggage had in fact been on the plane.
It was not.
After 5 confused minutes of looking through his computer system, the very nice Gate Personnel Member told me the last status update of my suitcase was almost a day ago.
He advised me to see Delta Luggage Services, for which I needed to exit the security area.
Sunday, 4:30 pm
I felt lost. Called my parents. Told them that my luggage was probably lost. Maybe the airline would find it, maybe not. There was no tag with my personal information attached.
I prepared to buy cheap clothes at Walmart. If I would finally arrive at some point in Atlanta.
Sunday, 6 pm
Went out of the security area. Made my way to the Delta Luggage Service. Small unnoticeable office. Just one desk. An old, small lady behind it. She introduced herself as Ms. Georgia.
Told her about my problem. Then she started to work. She dug into the computer system, made calls to JFK and ATL. Called all her coworkers at the other airports “Baby” on the phone. After probably 30 minutes she told me, that my suitcase was most likely still at JFK, it never left the plane which got cancelled. Then she told me she could manage this. Called her shift manager to take overtime. In the end she “fake-booked” me on a flight from JFK to ATL. This way, she told me, my suitcase could be put on the first flight in the morning, even though I wasn’t really on it. She handed me a sticky note with her number. I should call her if I ran into more problems.
I thanked her from the bottom of my heart.
Sunday, 11 pm
Flight was delayed by more than 3 hours. Didn’t care. Just wanted to make it to Atlanta. But at this point I already felt tired, after 2 nights of short, bad sleep. Therefore, I called a hotel at ATL and made a reservation for the night. Then I could also straight up collect my luggage in the next morning, when it hopefully arrived with the earliest flight.
Boarding went smoothly. Take-Off to Atlanta.
Monday
Monday, 12:40 pm
Arrived in Atlanta. Went straight to the hotel, showered and went to bed.
Monday, 6:30 am
Couldn’t sleep that well. Still worried about luggage and if the rental car company would charge me for picking up the car 2 days to late.
Monday, 7 am
Entered the baggage collection area. In one corner were many suitcases. One of them was a small, black trolley. My small, black trolley.
I was so relieved. Went to the car rental, coming to late was no problem for them. Went to the row of cars and chose the best looking one.
Monday, 8 am
After one of the most stressful weekends in my life, I drove off to Milledgeville to meet the others.
Final Thoughts
Going through this, I learned that there are so many people that want to help you. And if you talk to them they can. Even if you are on your own in a different country on a different continent.
I could try to forge a transition to Design Thinking. That Design Thinking is also about people.
But in the end, everything is about the people.
The people that help you solve problems, the people that support you during the night from home, the people you meet abroad and become friends with in such a short time.
For those people, I am thankful.
