In a word: Moof

Trying to return home from Tucson at the moment, but I’ve been trapped in first Tallahassee, now Atlanta. Just when our flight from Tucson was nearing Atlanta (where we had a layover), thunderstorms forced the airport to close. So we spun around in a holding stack for a while, until we had to divert to Tallahassee for fuel. That took almost two hours (by this time its 10pm, when our flight was supposed to arrive around 7.)

We eventually made it to Atlanta, where much to our surprise, our flight to Cleveland was merely four-hours delayed, not canceled. Waited around til the new departure time of 12:30. They then announced a gate change, and sent all the passengers from two separate flights to a gate at the far end of the terminal. The confused employee at the new gate knew nothing of either flight, nor why about two hundred people had suddenly appeared at her gate. Calls were made to the tower. Both planes were then sent back to their original gates at the other end of the terminal, which just topped off the hilarity.

And then they canceled the flight. Turns out the pilots for the flight had flown as long as they are legally allowed to in one day. Everyone runs from the gate to the nearest long line they can find. Most people picked the line for hotel vouchers or for flight rescheduling; we picked the line for taxis. Found a hotel, and went to bed around 2am.

Woke up at 7:30, since we were on standby for a flight at 9-something. Didn’t make that one. Didn’t make the one at 12:50. The rest in the afternoon are full. I finally ended up with a ticket at 9:55pm. So I have plenty of time in the crown room to kill.

That story was dull, so hopefully this picture will make it better:

Kitt Peak attacks.

—cts