This last weekend we went to Indianapolis for a Volleyball tournament. Thousands of people: parents, coaches, and volleyball players were all wearing masks and somewhat socially distanced while chasing their volleyball dreams. All too soon the weekend was over. Most games were won, but a vital game, while incredibly close, was lost. There was an awful moment after the game when the team was standing in a circle, frozen in disappointment. The coach censured their mistakes and walked away. Then rather abruptly, I realized this talented team in the gold bracket had just been eliminated! For us the tournament was suddenly over. Despite the dedication of countless hours of practice, and certainly the effort of this whole weekend, there were other things now looming. The excitement of the tournament faded away and we were left with the drudgery of the aftermath. We turned our mind to packing up our luggage, traveling back home, and completing homework, all stacked on top of the heavy heartedness.
Soon we found ourselves in the hotel lobby trying to procure a ride to the airport to return home. Any thoughts of last minute sightseeing had been doused by the freezing rain that had been falling for the last few hours. I’m staring at my phone to see if a driver from Uber or Lyft has responded. Something is wrong. It has been 40 minutes and no drivers have responded. We are out of time, now we just need to get to the airport. I think maybe a taxi is the solution…
“Hi…where are you headed today?”
I look up to see a man in a pilot’s uniform smiling in a friendly way standing near us in the lobby. Unfortunately, I am distracted hoping a driver with availability will suddenly appear on the app on my phone.
I say, “To the airport.”
To which he readily smiles and says, “I figured with your luggage. I’m headed to Atlanta, I just wondered if you guys were too.”
Only then did I realize my half given answer colored by distress might have been impolite. So I looked up, laughed a bit and told him we were headed to Phoenix, but somehow couldn’t manage to get a driver. He was standing with 5 other airline employees. We said good luck and safe travels and the conversation was over, or so I thought. There must have been 20 people in the lobby waiting to get to the airport, a lot of us in the same frustrating situation unable to secure a ride.
I canceled the elusive and apparently nonexistent Lyft driver and decided to pay the exorbitant Uber driver who was three times the cost. When the same pilot stepped back into the lobby from outside and invited my son and me to join their caravan to the airport. He says there is room if I am willing to tip the driver.
I am 100% willing and truly relieved!
After loading our luggage, we chat the 20 minutes to the airport. All the airline employees work for Southwest. I talked with a petite attendant in her 60s, sitting next to me, who tells us the airline makes arrangements for their hotels and transportation. Lucky!
I thanked the pilot who had invited us at least seven times and also the driver and everyone! I tipped the van driver the amount I was going to pay the Lyft driver, at which my son widened his eyes, but to me it was a relief and a joy!
I don’t know the name of the Pilot.
I don’t know where he lives, his marital status, how many children he does or does not have. I don’t know his political affiliation, or any of his hobbies. I don’t know what music he likes, or if he’s had any significant injuries. I know so little about him, really. I just know in that moment he saw our need and helped.
He was kind and could see outside himself. That says a lot.
Thank you Mister Southwest Pilot who saw my distress and offered a kind solution. I hope to be a bit more like you.
