" . . with fava beans and a nice chianti."

 “. . . . . with fava beans and a nice chianti.”

Those memorable words were spoken by Hannibal Lecter in the classic movie Silence of the Lambs. They came to mind on both legs of my 1^st airplane trip in a decade, to and from San Francisco for meetings of the Southern Conference of Bar Presidents, the National Conference of Bar Presidents and the ABA Commission on Disability Rights.

I was more than a little anxious about flying to the West Coast. I prefer to drive where I go for a lot of reasons, some of which include having reliable transportation at the destination site, taking apparatus with me to use in hotel rooms to make my life a little more manageable, and enjoying seeing the countryside. Driving to San Francisco would have been a budget breaker for both me and the KBA. So, I decided to break out of my mold and book a plane flight. I did a great deal of internet research. I spoke with people that I know and trust who fly on a regular basis. All my sources assured me that Delta does a good job in accommodating passengers with special needs. I can assure you from this experience that ‘good job’ looks different depending on your perspective.

As promised, I was able to drive my four wheel Pride Mobility scooter literally to the doors of the airplanes. From there, the able baggage teams put my scooter into free wheel mode, rolled it outside the boarding ramps and took it to the baggage compartments underneath the airplanes. I stood up from the scooter, turned around and sat on a contraption the airline calls an ‘aisle chair.’ This is where our favorite cannibal comes into play. I was strapped head to toe on to this contraption. The seat is about a foot wide and feels like a metal bleacher. The foot rests are so close to the seat that my legs had to be tucked under them. The back is straight as a board. I was told to cross my arms across my chest. If I had the awesome mask, I would’ve looked like Hannibal when he was restrained. It might have been as uncomfortable as I have been in a long time.

But wait… There’s more! The attendant then had to lean me back and roll me across the threshold of the airplane (rattle, rattle, thump, thump), make a 90° turn and take me down the aisle of the airplane to my seat. Fortunately, the seat was close. Nonetheless, the way airplanes are configured these days left barely enough room for my shoulders to pass down the aisle, and my knees and elbows routinely banged the seats I passed. On two or three occasions the contraption tilted to the left or right and it felt like I was headed to the ground with no way to protect myself. They managed to keep me upright but it was spooky. When I got to my seat on the first leg of the trip, I was unstrapped and had to scoot from the aisle chair to my designated seat. There was nothing available to use my arms with to stand up or adjust so my clothes were twisted from the strapping and scooting, and I was basically stuck in one position for the duration of the four hour flight. Fortunately, the personnel at CVG were professional, courteous, and did the best job they could do. I am sure that having been a Delta hub gave the local personnel a lot of practice.

When I got to San Francisco, they brought another version of the contraption back to my seat after everyone had left the plane. (FOLO - first on last off!) Since there was nothing for me to use to stand up, I had to scoot from the completely uncomfortable airplane seat uphill onto Hannibal’s chair, endure being strapped up again, and rolled out to the area right outside the airplane door. There, they unstrapped me and almost allowed the chair to tip over. I caught myself by putting one hand on the ramp wall and the other hand on my scooter, which had suddenly arrived from underneath. There was nothing available for me to use to stand up so I had to rely on the available personnel to pick me up and put me on the scooter. All three of the people were under 5’10” and less than, I estimate, 175 pounds. No one could get my carcass high enough so that my rear would sit squarely on my scooter seat. The best they could do was to drag me from the unstable chair (that was falling over as they moved me because no one held the chair) and get one cheek on the scooter. From there another short person put his hands under my shoulders from the rear and tried to pull me further on to the seat. I wound up having to do it myself which took about 15 minutes. I could have directed the personnel on a couple of things that would’ve made life a lot easier but only one of them spoke English, and that English was broken. The flight attendants looked thoroughly embarrassed that this was the best SFO could offer. The pilot, watching the scene, shook his head and turned away.

For the trip back home I was privileged to fly first-class on the redeye. The entire process was to be repeated, at least in theory. FOLO was in play again so I was the first person down the ramp. This time, the people sent to assist me were shorter and thinner than those who participated upon my arrival. Since it was 10:30 at night Pacific time, I guess the ‘first team’ had gone home for the day. I tried to tell the fellow to move the aisle chair away from my scooter while I stood up and turned around, but the language barrier was even more impossible this time. He finally put the chair right next to my seat and motioned to me to scoot from one to the other. I remembered how this it worked the last time but could not educate him. So, I followed his instructions and scooted from my scooter chair to the aisle chair, which promptly tipped over with me on it, only to be saved by the wall of the ramp that the scooter and I fell into. The fellow looked surprised and did his best to set the back up straight. I only had one cheek on the contraption and could not explain this to his satisfaction. He strapped me into the chair – or at least he tried to. While I was setting on this chair leaning to the left, I realized that he didn’t know how to buckle the belts. He had to call for assistance. I sat there for five minutes while the entire set of passengers stood on the ramp behind me, waiting to get on their airplane, so Larry, Darrell and his other brother Darryl could figure out how the straps and belts worked. Finally, they got me onto the airplane (with me holding myself up right by my arms pushing on galley walls and seats.) This time we turned left into the first-class section, going down the aisle face first. When we got to my seat (first row – at the bulkhead) they suddenly realized that the first-class armrests do not raise and that I was going to have to be picked up over the armrest to get into the seat. Beautiful. The CVG-based flight attendants were great, offered reasonable suggestions and were helpful but the guys there to help me were in a full sweat and thoroughly confused. After another 10 minutes or so of really untrained and unprofessional effort on their part, I convinced them how to raise me high enough to get over the armrest. They did it, and once I got my legs straightened underneath me I was able to assume a comfortable position in the slightly better and wider first class seat. By then, I was completely worn out and in a sweat myself, having been at the mercy of incompetence for about 20 minutes at that point.

The flight back from the coast had the benefit of the jet stream and took a little over three hours. When we arrived home the caring flight attendant came up to me and said “don’t worry, Tom, we have the posse coming.” About the time that all of the other passengers were in the baggage area retrieving their belongings, the local personnel arrived and very efficiently moved me from my seat to the aisle chair, strapped me up again and moved me the 10 yards or so to my waiting scooter. Again, upon strapping me, I was very efficiently and quickly moved to my mobility machine and was soon on my way. I was completely relieved that my brief periods of restraint were behind me. I will never watch Silence of the Lambs the same way again.

Because I’m a glass half-full kind of fellow, I did get to and from San Francisco, I attended some excellent meetings, picked up some great ideas and learned a lot, ate some great food and visited with some great friends, visited fisherman’s wharf and took a boat ride around Alcatraz, and attended the Giants – Orioles game at their beautiful new ballpark. I got to see my nephew Josh and his cute, active and funny daughter Aiden, got to catch up with an old friend and had a couple Anchor Steam libations.  I was a speaker in a program on bar outreach to disadvantaged members that went over very well, I am told. I will attempt to forget the fact that I had to wait approximately 8 hours over five days for handicap accessible taxis to arrive to take me places. I changed flights and came home a day early because of that. I also learned how to anticipate this stuff happening and make plans so that it doesn’t happen again.

I admit to being embarrassed that I held up the boarding twice, inconveniencing the other passengers and worrying the flight crews. Some people in my situation might react with anger and harsh language. Having prepared myself for the worst (while hoping for the best) I simply tried to smile, remain calm and press on toward the goal no matter what the obstacles.

I knew there was a reason why I drive to most places. I just thought I’d share this experience so others, perhaps, can see the world from my perspective and plan appropriately for trips with their loved ones who may need assistance. It will be a long time before I fly again.