The Return Trip Home from Reno...

     Melodi took us to the airport in Reno about 4 a.m. Monday.  Our flight took off at 5:30. Our first stop was Las Vegas. There we would change planes and head for St. Louis. Sounds simple and it should have worked out that way but flying for us is always an adventure at best... so is crossing the street.

    Our flight was on time.  The terminal where we landed seemed to be clear across Nevada. We had one hour to find our terminal, check in and get on board to leave.  We walked it with time to spare.  After we found our destination, we decided to play Poker on the slots machines.  I like to play Poker but I am not all that great on slots. There are too many distractions, bells and whistles for me to concentrate. . .or so I thought.  We only gamble when we are in Vegas or Tunica, Mississippi. It is all in fun. Tommy didn't want to play but he watched me, giving me all sorts of suggestions.  We were having a good time. The guy next to us won $650 on the penny slots.  So guess what we played!!  I would win a little and loose a little.  Time got away from us. We were sitting about sixty feet or so from our gate, except our backs were to the area. It was loud in the gigantic room, and our minds were on the slots.  We didn't hear the first page for us to line up and board.  We also did not hear it the second time.  Finally, Tommy hears something and says we have to go because we are being paged. I never did hear the page.  Well, I had one dollar left so I hit it and lost.  Then I was ready to go...more or less.

   We walked to the gate as fast as we could.  The man who worked the counter was smiling. We apologized and he informed us there were two people later than us who had not checked in yet.  Tommy gave the man his boarding pass and all eyes turned to me as I began to dump my purse searching for my pass. I knew I had it so I wasn't worried until the gentleman told Tommy, "You can go on and board. I am not sure she is going anywhere."  AND then he laughed. I found my pass and we get on the plane.  Only middle seats were empty --- Tommy and I split up.  He sat between two young thin men.  Me ?? I got the first row with the smallest seats in the  world. We had lots of leg room but you would need to be a size 8 to even remotely fit in them. I thought the first row of  seats always looked bigger. They probably are but our steward said these were the original 'trial' seats they put in when they gave more leg room. Then he smiled and said, "I am really sorry." I was sitting between a mother and daughter who were three times my size, and I am a long way from a size 8.  The mother was elderly and sick.  She threw up twice in a bag before we started our flight.  Her daughter offered to trade seats with me. I was very thankful because the coffee in my stomach was beginning to churn every time she threw up.  Her daughter was a nurse and took good care of her mom. The steward never offered to ask her to leave the plane. I was glad because she slept the rest of the way and seemed to feel better once we landed. Sometimes things work out for the best.

    We landed in St. Louis, retrieved our luggage and heard about a bomb threat at Mercy Hospital.  Part of 270 was closed.  We were taking 70 west so that was no problem for us but we were worried about the people at the hospital. All protocol was taken and it turned out to be nothing.  A man came to the hospital for a mental   
evaluation and had packed golf balls wrapped in something--probably tin foil-- and a non hazardous object that resembled a cell phone.  I am glad the man on duty was alert and took proper precautions and called the bomb squad.  No one was hurt. I imagine the man in for the mental health check up, lost his balls and string phone and now has a room with a view somewhere safe.

    Soon we were in our car and headed home. About forty five minutes out of St. Louis heading west, traffic came to a standstill. We crept along like a long, tired earthworm at times. Most of the time we sat, waiting and wondering who was in a horrible situation. Emergency vehicles had to drive on the shoulder and take outer roads to reach the accident. When we finally drove past it,  what we saw was horrible. Little children were involved in the accident and I have no more information.  It looked bad and I will leave it at that.   

   On a brighter note, we had a wonderful stay with Melodi, Lacey and Rowan. Our trip home was eventful and a tad more sane than some trips we have flown.  Considering we were flying at 34,000 feet and flying at 450 miles an hour, it was a good flight.  As far as I am concerned, that is a good thing and beats traveling by covered wagon all to pieces. However, I must admit, I would love to travel once the Oregon Trail with a wagon train.  It is on my Bucket List...it just can not be in summer...someone would shoot me half way through the trip.