Clark's Spot

December in the Northeast means a decent possibility of snow – and travel problems for Christmas. Franchise and I were antsy as we monitored the forecast the past week. We planned to travel to Ohio on Friday night for three days of Christmas with my family. But a storm was expected in town on Friday, and the storm projections went from “a bit of snow” to “it could dump a foot of snow plus ice.”

On Thursday morning, they updated the forecast. This would be a decent storm. We’d be driving straight through the storm to get home on Friday night. Or we’d be driving across roads with as much as a foot of ice and snow that may or may not be plowed. I spent my lunch hour looking at weather projections and maps. We talked at 3:30 that afternoon – we’d leave town that night (pack quickly…) and drive south where the weather should be limited to rain.

I’d never had much success trying to outflank a weather pattern before. I’ve failed to outrun snow storms in the past. I’ve driven along the Texas countryside trying to get to a cross road and out of a tornado’s path. Last year, we were forced to land in Toledo and stuck overnight in Detroit while trying to get home after Christmas. But we pack and leave by 7 p.m.

We were most of the way to Harrisburg when we called Roger to ask about the forecast for Pittsburgh. Either we’d turn west on the Pennsylvania Turnpike or stay south and head for Hagerstown, Maryland depending on whether Pittsburgh would have freezing rain that night. The weather looked clear until 1 a.m. and would be just rain by 10 a.m. – easy set-up for crashing in a hotel room. We turned west on I-76 and set our sights on New Stanton – a place Franchise selected.

The road was pretty clear, the weather held, although I was tired and we pulled off one exit early – about 20 miles shy of our intended destination. I noticed the name of the county on the way in. A long time ago, a branch of my mom’s family lived in Westmoreland County, Pennsylvania. Most of the family moved out after about 20 years. Only a few brothers stayed behind. I didn’t have any graves to search for and doubted there would be much paper record because the family left about 200 years ago.

We found the hotel and crashed for the night. Neither of us had heard of our jobs being closed the next day so we’d have to wake early to learn about the cancellations through text message or call off for the day. Franchise’s phone alarm sounded at 6:15 a.m. Within a few minutes, she received her cancellation text and rolled back over. I wasn’t cancelled so I spent a few minutes surfing the web on my Blackberry – learning a bit about the county’s history. That’s when I heard the buzzing – a quiet alarm sounding from the hallway. I rolled over to look at the alarm clock – dark. I flipped the bed lamp switch – nothing.Franchise slept blissfully in the bed – completely unaware. But I sat there thinking about my situation.I had never expected to find myself in Westmoreland County with no powern while rain poured outside while I tried to outsmart the seasonal weather.

Power was still out when Franchise woke so we considered our options. Donuts in the lobby and a dark bathroom. I grabbed my phone and Franchise’s GPS to Google and map the county historical society. Then I proposed an option to Franchise. We drive 20 miles to the historical society. Enjoy light, power, running water. I’d search their records for 30 minutes to see if they have anything pertaining to my family – anything that might encourage or dissuade me from visiting again. Then we’d get back on the road. Sometimes, when an opportunity is presented, you can’t let it go – particularly if it’s something you really enjoy doing.

Franchise didn’t sign up to leave Thursday night. She didn’t want to scamper out of Scranton wondering whether she would need to call in a sub for the next day. She didn’t want to be in a powerless hotel in Southwestern Pennsylvania. And she certainly didn’t want to spend the day in the archives somewhere while I did research. I could see the thoughts form in her head: Can’t he go anywhere without having to do genealogy research? She was gracious though. If there’s power, OK, she said. We checked the front desk. The hotel expected to be without power for the next 20 hours. The county seat had power. We packed the car and left.

Sure, I remembered the family name that resided in the area for 20-25 years. Bennetts. William, the patriarch, fought in the Battle of Bunker Hill and Yorktown. Isaac, his youngest son, is my direct ancestor. No clue on the dates or years they lived there or who was born, died, and married where. Totally unprepared and not expecting to parachute in to do anything with this family – particularly in a county where they resided for only a portion of their movement through the fledgling United States.

I walked into the Westmoreland County Historical Society with my laptop – full of all the family history scans I’ve collected – my brains for the day because I haven’t looked at this family in at least a year. The staff was nice – really helpful in digging up books and talking about the history of the area. I found a copy of a land deed from April 6, 1795 and a couple of mentions of the families that remained behind. Franchise read To Kill a Mockingbird. We stuck around about 90 minutes before hitting up the hotdog eatery on the corner and heading to Ohio.

The trip’s started with a lot of potential for a great story. Franchise and I have already decided that the Christmases since the wedding have been particularly adventuresome. We’re not done yet, but we made the best of a surprise situation.

Jessica wakes up early and gets us moving. She wants breakfast. Too tired and mentally exhausted, Jessica and Brian reconstruct the past few hours from text message conversations with their friends and family. It goes something like this:

Jessica and Brian are stuck in Michigan. After our plane arrived in the Detroit airport, Jessica bargained for flights (through Philadelphia) to Scranton on December 27 and a night in a Best Western in Detroit. The shuttle passes us by twice, and Jessica, Brian, and several new friends decide to hail a taxi.

At the hotel, we learn the hotel is full. The only remaining rooms all have problems. The manager decides to bus us across the street for the night. Jessica and Brian check in (at 1:55 a.m.) and go straight to the bar to beat last call. Two drinks later, they grab their bags, coats, and phones and head toward their room.

Jessica and Brian get to the lobby restaurant, but are greeted by a hotel employee offering them a ride to the airport. Jessica (remembering the problems leaving the airport the night before) jumps at the chance. Ten minutes later, we’re being screened at DTW nearly three hours before flight 1776 is scheduled to depart for Philadelphia. (He updates the blog using his phone to pass the time.)

Standing at the line for Starbucks, Jessica examines her boarding pass. She’s in seat 4A – first class! Brian’s shocked, then learns he is in 1A. More than two hours later, he boards the plane, hands over his coat, and graciously accepts a small juice while other passengers trudge past him. Jessica scrambles to the front of the boarding line. The airline employee gives her a nasty look, and Jessica responds with “you just let my husband in.” Jessica boards, takes her juice, and immediately falls asleep as the remainder of the passengers stare enviously at her.

During the flight, Brian learns the dirty little airline secret. Nobody seated in first class paid for the special treatment. Everyone was bumped up as a payoff for delays, cancellations, etc. Whatever. Jessica and Brian weren’t upgraded on their honeymoon. They deserve it this year. They’ll gladly take it as a belated Christmas present.

The rest of the trip is as uneventful and expected as you’d expect by this point. We switch airlines, get new boarding passes, must pass security (again) in Philadelphia. We arrive in Scranton, but there’s no luggage. The next morning, Brian’s suitcase shows up – but there’s no suitcase for Jessica. She and Brian finally pick it up from the baggage guy in a CVS parking lot on their way to her parents to celebrate faux Christmas on the 28th.

“We’ll drive,” Jessica tells her family, “the next time we go somewhere.”

Ohio and Michigan fought over the Glass City in the 1830s. Ohio “won” when Congress decided the Buckeye state would keep Toledo and Michigan would receive the Upper Peninsula.

So when Jessica and Brian left Port Columbus (and Ohio) for the Detroit airport (and Michigan), how did they end up in Toledo?

“Sorry folks the weather suddenly got bad” as we were circling Detroit over and over and over again, the pilot announced when he told Jessica, Brian, and the other passengers of their new destination. “We’ll talk to you again upon landing.”

He sure did talk to us again when he landed. The pilot also got his boss, and his boss’s boss on the radio. Turns out, the pilot had just finished a 16-hour day, and he really wanted to get to his hotel room in the Detroit metropolitan area. Our airline did not normally run flights through the Toledo airport so we didn’t even get to pull up to a gate. The pilot was not in a mood to sit on the tarmac in Toledo. (Neither were his passengers.) Before we had much of a chance to complain, however, the pilot had radioed half of the Northwest supervisors asking for the chance to take off again.

The pilot eventually summed everything up for us. Company policy (if not federal regulations) mandate that planes must have 2400 feet visibility to land. Detroit had suddenly been covered with fog, and we had only 1100 feet visibility. We made two landing attempts at Detroit before we were redirected to Toledo. The National Weather Service expected five hours of the dense fog, but after about 30 minutes in Toledo the fog had appeared to lift enough for flights to get in and out of Detroit.

“Let’s just see how lucky we can get,” the pilot said.

It took another hour for the airline to arrange to get us additional fuel and to get all the proper clearances to leave.

So, after a 90-minute wait sitting on the plane, Jessica and Brian’s flight returned to the air and landed in Detroit at 11:05 p.m.

The pilot’s response?

“We barely made it,” he told the flight attendant.

Might want to keep those thoughts behind the sealed cockpit door next time. Now, to see about a new flight (the Dec. 26 flight to Scranton was cancelled). We also have to find a bed in a state that we’d rather not be in right now.

Time to go back to Pennsylvania. Jessica and Brian left St. Marys at 2:30 p.m. on Wednesday. The flight was supposed to leave Port Columbus/CMH at 7:10 p.m. for Detroit. Jessica and Brian arrived at the airport and were checked in by 5 p.m.

The flight schedule showed a delay, with the flight now scheduled to leave at 7:59 p.m. Jessica and Brian sought out Brian’s parents for one more meal and a few more memories of the trip. Finally, at about 7:30 they said their goodbyes and went through the security checkpoint.

They made the announcement at 7:45 p.m. The flight to Detroit/DTW would leave at 8:54 p.m. Jessica hurried to get to the front of the line, and she was able to get us bumped to another DTW-bound flight. (The departure of that flight was originally scheduled for 5 p.m.) The plane pulled away from the gate at 8:25. We landed in Toledo 70 minutes later.