The Weekend that Never Was

Well. What a weekend our Labor Day was. We started out on our way to Rockville, Connecticut, but for some reason unbeknownst to us, God had another adventure in mind.

It all began (well, who knows when it really began) when we arrived at the Moline airport to find that our 1:18 flight had been delayed until 1:50, soon to be changed again to 2:10. Quite a deal, huh? If only we knew that this was only a slight preparation for the day to come.

Ready for security check at the beginning of the trip! All smiles! :)

We arrived at Chicago around 2:50 with no complications (aside from the fright of a few first-timers), and prepared to spend a four-hour layover there before our 6:50 flight to Hartford.

At 5:00, we heard the Schulz group (Matt & his brothers) from Moline was sitting in their plane still waiting to take off because of pending storms in Chicago.

At 6:15, they were still sitting in the plane waiting for news. Our group in Chicago was just finding out that our flight was delayed to 7:15. Mixed in with that, there were about four gate changes. We waited longer, hoping the Moline group would still make our connecting flight. Storms were raging bad outside.

Enjoying our time in Chicago!

We ate supper, walked around, played Sudoku, and tried to entertain ourselves some more.

Then our flight was delayed again to 9:26.

At 7:45 the Moline group had been sitting in their tiny plane on the ground for three hours. At 8:00 the airport let them get off the plane.

The lonely only young man in our group...(and this is also my final photo of our trip.)

We changed gates five more times. The storms had ended, but O'hare was still mayhem.

Our flight got delayed to 10:01 and then to 10:46. We were scheduled to arrive in Hartford at 1:45am.

And then our flight got cancelled. Madness ensued. We were forced to join 1000 other people in the customer service line to get something figured out.

Let me tell you, it is difficult to remain calm and reasonable after twelve hours of delayed flights when it is 11pm with a group of thirteen people, twelve of them young women.

A lady came through the line and handed us voucher slips for hotel rooms and a number to call for rescheduling flights. We weren't going to make it to Hartford that night, but in the morning. Right?

Wrong.

Rachel (many thanks to her and Candace) got on the phone with United to get us re-booked. There was a flight in Terminal C leaving for the east coast soon. RUN!!

Ha ha, just kidding. We ran all the way there (picture it: twelve girls in skirts and Bennett) only to find that the flight had been cancelled too. Imagine that! Every flight from Chicago had been cancelled, I think. At least we got our exercise.

Rachel (bless her calm and patient heart) got back on the phone with United. Nothing available to Hartford or Boston. Not even through another airport. Ready for plan N?

Go home.

There was room for us to split into two groups to take Saturday flights back to Moline (a morning and an afternoon flight), so we reserved the seats.

Utter devastation.

That was a major storm to put upon thirteen exhausted people at 11pm and allow to sink in. I will not give more details on those twenty minutes.

We then decided to sit down and calm ourselves. Candace got on the phone for the hotel rooms while the rest of us started singing hymns--right there in the airport. It was all we could do to keep from losing our composure completely. We sang until Candace came back to say we had four rooms reserved at Comfort Inn & Suites. That in mind, we started heading for the shuttle area.

As we made our disappointed ways to the shuttle bus, we stopped to notice we were missing a few from our group. Oh no. What now?

A Godsend, perhaps? The four girls had walked past a sobbing woman and stopped to talk to her. The young lady's mother was on her deathbed and her flight had also been cancelled. She was likely not going to get to see her mother one last time. This put things into perspective and we began reminding ourselves of all we had to be thankful for.

We got to the shuttle area to find it was going to be a really long wait...like an hour. And it was already midnight.

We waited twenty minutes and then moved to plan "O" (is that what letter we are on now?) -TAXIS. So we walked back up to the taxi area, waited in line for twenty more minutes, and got on four separate taxis to get to the hotel.

Of course, that did not go smoothly either. The hotel gave Candace the wrong address and there was some confusion, but in the end we all made it in good time to the hotel...

...Only to learn that our hotel reservations had not been made and there was no room for us there.

Reminder of the time: 12:30am.

This time we all just started laughing. It was the time of night when everyone suddenly becomes hysterical. The lady at the hotel saw what we had been through and kindly called the Super 8 and made reservations there. Their shuttle came to drive us there.

At 1:00am, twelve weary travelers were sitting in the hotel lobby waiting for Candace, who stood in the check-in line for twenty minutes.

At 1:15am, we got into our hotel rooms. And obviously went to bed...

...So that six of us could wake up five hours later in time for the 6:45am shuttle back to the airport. That would be Candace, Rachel, Torri, Bennett, Vienna, and me (Stephanie).

We got to the airport without incident, but then Candace, Rachel, and Torri had to wait about fifteen minutes for the lady to call in and confirm their flights so they could get boarding passes. Security was smooth. We switched gates once, waved goodbye to the Forrest/Fairbury single group on their flight to Boston, and boarded on time. Everything was going just as planned.

Until we got on the plane and we became concerned that the flight would be delayed on account of a plugged lavatory. But they got that fixed.

Until they closed down the ramps on account of lightning and we couldn't leave the gate for twenty minutes. But then we left the gate and were on our way to the ramp.

Until they stopped us and delayed all west-bound flights for another twenty minutes. But then we finally got to the ramp.

And we moved. And we took off. And when the plane left the ground, we all breathed sighs of relief and tearfully cried, "GOODBYE, CHICAGO!"

Epilogue:

Our group got to Moline at 11 and my parents brought up a car for them to take home. I stayed in the Quad Cities with my family that night and four of the others went to Bloomfield Sunday morning for the day.

The group of seven that was supposed to fly back that afternoon ended up getting flights out to the east coast and was able to spend the weekend in Rockville as planned. They made it out and back home safely. That group included Alyssa, Erika, Jenni, Brittney, Raiann, Claire, and Bailey.

The Schulz clan's Friday flight was cancelled and they found a flight to Hartford Saturday morning through Atlanta. They made it out and back home safely. That group included Matt, Andrew, and Zach.

Everyone else who planned to go from our area made it there and back safely. That would be Billy, Jacob, Caleb, Hannah, and Brett. Billy said he had a very nice weekend in Rockville.

And I didn't even get to see my fiance for almost five days.

The End.