The Airport

Our eldest daughter finished her summer term teaching duties and decided to come out for a visit. She rode to Virginia from Utah with a friend who was beginning medical school at MCV, and then had a week or so to be with us. We stayed up late talking, rehashed old times, visited the relatives, went out to dinner, and just had a glorious time.

When the time came to head back to Utah, we had arranged for her to fly out of the Raleigh airport, the closest to her grandparents who live in Fayetteville, North Carolina, so she could have a chance to see them before heading back out for the fall semester. (Yes, the obligatory grandparent visit....)

We arrived at the airport uncharacteristically early, got Elizabeth checked in, and called the grandparents on their cell to see where they were. They were an hour away! As we walked back to the main terminal to wait, we saw a police lady on on of those two wheeled people movers. Granger, the eight year old, thought that was very exciting!

So we get back to the baggage claim/lobby area, and I have everyone sit down, while Elizabeth and I went to scout out where exactly she would be going through security, etc. Just as Elizabeth and I walked through the airport concourse, we saw the police lady again, having just arrived at her destination. She was saying, "Sir! Sir?" And then we saw him. The older gentleman had obviously arrested. His gray face contorted in an open-mouthed grimace. His left hand and fingers were similarly contorted. And he was quite obviously dead. No doubt. We must have been among the first on the scene, because there was no other security or other people around. We moved along and let the police officer do her morbid chore.

We found the security gate and then went to walk back to where the rest of our family was sitting. As we reached the scene again, they were just beginning to ask people to go around and not have any pedestrian traffic in the area. I sat down with my family, and, in a few minutes, saw a nice middle aged lady run in the doors of the terminal, obviously, or so I thought, late for a flight. She ran to the left and right, and then I heard her wail as she found her father. My heart rent in her sheer and utter agony.

Her sister had met their father just earlier that day in the airport. The family was meeting there to go down to the Outer Banks for a week at the beach. Her sister had said to their father, who was fine at the time, "You sit here, and I'll go get the luggage." While she did that, he quickly and quietly passed away. The only reason we know that, is that we offered to help the family- in particular the sister who had gone to get the luggage. Her sobs filled the airport, and, for some reason, the two sisters kept missing each other. One would be taken to an ambulance, one to a chapel, etc.. So she had been left alone. She was quite distraught, and no one seemed to be helping. My kind wife just went over and offered a hug, and which she readily and completely accepted.

Emotions ran high as the afternoon wore on. Finally the grandparents arrived and we had our obligatory visit, strained as it was by the circumstance. In due time, Elizabeth went through security and to her gate, as the terminal- even the word took on a whole new significance- returned to a more subdued normalcy. Crowds dissipated, officers moved on, families found solace in one another, and a solitary body was finally wheeled in to the airport chapel.

I learned three things from this experience. First, I learned that no beach trip, or day in the country or even a sacrosanct round of golf will stand in the way when it's time. We can't choose the time we leave this earth, and it may not always be the most convenient. Frankly, we'd better be ready and grab life with the gusto of an young man driving his first car while we can.

The second thing I learned has to do with the previous post. What was initially disappointment gave way as my anger rose towards the crowds that gathered to gawk and whisper and stare and point. Parents led their children and got as close to the cordoned off barrier as they could, as if Tiger was getting ready to tee off and they might miss the opportunity. I came very close to asking everyone to disperse, but my children urged me to remain quiet. We had retaken our seats waiting for the grandparents, and were facing the other way. It truly does seem that, for some people, life is just one big reality show- one more chance to catch people at their worst or most vulnerable. "Come see the dead guy!" "Watch the grief flow freely!" "Today only in the Raleigh Airport!" My heart ached to see this horrible time for this family made a cheap sideshow by the gapers and intrusive onlookers.

The third thing I learned was another testament of the tender mercies that so often surround us. Had my family not sat down to wait for the late grandparents, all of my children, including our 8 year old Granger who may not have the capacity to deal with this sort of trauma, would have been first hand witnesses to the event. As it was, it was the first time Elizabeth had ever seen a dead person. I had before, but his contorted visage was discomforting even for me. I am so grateful that they were spared that. I am also grateful that they could learn a lesson about how NOT to act at the hands of the crowd and how TO act at the hands of their loving mother.

When we were first dating, we used to go to the local mall or airport, just to hang out and watch people. That has taken on a whole new meaning.... Life comes at you in ebbs and flows, at various times and in various ways, and you need to be ready to deal with it yourself or to help others deal with it. Whatever you do, don't be one of the gawkers.