A THANKSGIVING STORY
This Thanksgiving has been a wonderful holiday. Three-quarters of my family would be together at my oldest daughter’s new home in Lynchburg, Va. My youngest daughter, Kay, still lives and works in New Orleans in law enforcement. She is a detective with the sheriff’s department and is on a special task force supporting the FBI office is New Orleans. Her particular assignment is in human trafficking. I tell you this because to get away from New Orleans is one of her happiest times. She will be retiring next year with over 25 years of service and, hopefully, will move to West Virginia to be nearer to her old mom and dad. Now, Kay comes up about twice a year, but she has, heretofore, driven her little black jeep the 900+ miles each way.
But not this Thanksgiving. She was talked into flying.
After all, we now have a connecting American Airlines flight from New Orleans to Charlotte, N.C.; it connects with their puddle jumper, Contour Airlines, right into our Greenbrier Valley Airport here in Lewisburg (Wild and Wonderful) West Virginia. And, as advertised, you can check your luggage all the way through from NOLA to Lewisburg. So, my youngest said, “By golly, I will fly, and this way have two more days with my family.”
AND NOW THE REST OF THE STORY.
Ellen went to the airport to pick Kay up and, surprise, the plane was early; and there is our youngest daughter waiting with a sad look on her face. She made it to Lewisburg — but my, oh, my, her luggage is still in Charlotte. The agents are very sorry, but evidently the New Orleans agent did not see the memo that she could send the luggage straight through to Lewisburg and wrote out the baggage claim to Charlotte, neglecting to tell the luggage owner that it would STOP at Charlotte. But there is a plane arriving from Charlotte at 1100 on Wednesday (Thanksgiving eve), and we were not driving to Lynchburg until then anyway, so we could just swing by, pick up the suitcase and be on our way. NOT SO FAST!
Kay calls the airport to ask the agent if the luggage made the flight. OH, NO!!! The luggage made the wrong flight and was in Charleston, WV. Right state, wrong airdrome! But fear not, honey, we are putting it on a flight to ROANOKE, VA, approximately 1 ½ hour drive from my daughter’s house in Lynchburg. So, we leave Lewisburg and have an uneventful drive to Lynchburg, arriving around 1430. The flight with Kay’s luggage is due into Roanoke around 1730, so my son-in-law, Keith, volunteers to drive Kay there and still get back in time for a late supper. NOT SO FAST AGAIN. What’s this? The luggage had been sent from Charleston back to Charlotte. Again, everybody is so sorry for the inconvenience but, never fear, “We will get that luggage to you for sure Thanksgiving Day!” The luggage people call Wednesday evening and tell us the good news that it is there and will be delivered by courier Thanksgiving morning to our doorstep in Lynchburg.
A big pickup truck arrives as we are having our Thanksgiving breakfast. All we would need now would be a wrong suitcase. But it is the right one. We can tell because it has about seven baggage claims attached. We meet the driver and notice that he has an 8-point buck’s head in the back of his truck. He and his son got it around daybreak. The son dressed it out and took the body and Dad kept the trophy.
We had a great Thanksgiving and left Monday for home and Kay’s return flight on Tuesday. They waived the $30 baggage fee. And Kay and her bag made it back to New Orleans. We now await her return for Christmas in her LITTLE BLACK JEEP.
END OF STORY!!
Sincerely,
Capt. William L. Horne
Lewisburg
