The length of this story may get out of control, i will do my best, but this is one that must be told.
My family has a knack for coming back from vacation with the wildest of stories and we have our fair share of airport stories, but this one will go down in the books.
Being the rule-abiding citizens that they are, my parents arrived to DFW airport yesterday about 1.5 hours before their flight. Check in, go to the security line, show their boarding passes and passports for IDs at the entry point and get into a conversation with the worker about how they both have the same first and last name (if you don't know this story already, it'll have to wait). Following that, the person behind them in line asks my parents if they were A.G's parents (referring to my brother). Since there are abot 5 million people in the DFW metroplex, you don't often run into your sons former friends in the airport. They talk with her for a few minutes as they go through the x-ray machines and say goodbye. My mom is waiting on the inside for my dad to pass the scan point but the guards won't let him through because he doesn't have his boarding pass. After arguing across the security station about the fact that it is, in fact, not in his coat where he thinks it is (I'm sure the guards were impressed with how cool they were), Dad finally stops and realizes that he must have dropped it into the grey bin that he ended up giving to the girl since they were talking.
But who was she? And where is she going? She's a former friend of my brother's from when? Maybe her name was Smith? Can we page her?
So the paging begins. At 5 minute intervals they begin paging ... Would Miss Smith please report to the check in station? Would Miss Smith that knows the Grubbs please report to the check in station? ... maybe her name was Christy? Would Christy Smith please report???
Let's pause for one minute to point out that my father is standing in limbo security line in his sock-feet. Thank God he selected a non-holey pair for the journey.
Epiphany, let's call our son and see if he remembers. Of course he has a tendency to screen phone calls, so three phone calls and a SCREAMING text later, he calls back.
do you remember a girl's name that you once knew ... maybe a smith?? maybe you knew her in high school? amazingly enough he places the girl, but can't really remember her name but knows someone that would know, so he'll call them and call back. In the meantime, they keep paging made up names.
After a few phonecalls and some saavy facebook investigations, he calls back and says her name is C.D. Smith and he thinks she's going to Romania. PAGING C.D. SMITH GOING TO ROMANIA. ... Finally! She's on the phone at Gate 31 (they are at gate 11) and my mother's dream of becoming an olympic track athlete begins!! OFF she sprints and quarter mile down the terminal, finds C.D. and embraces her like she has known her for her entire life!!! Hooray! Boarding pass and passport in hand, mom sprints back, bolts backwards through security (red lights spinning, guards protesting) and hands my dad his boarding pass ...
AND C.D. Smith's PASSPORT!!!!!!
Michael Johnson emerged from those legs at that moment. Off flew my mother at a pace previously unattainable for the over 50 Woman.
She arrives to three lines of people boarding at the gate. Getting no help from the staff, she searches herself and finds C.D. at the end of the line talking her phone, innocently unaware of all the mayhem, with my father's passport.
My father is now reunited with his shoes, and they are safely in London ready to go and visit Ireland on St. Patty's day next week. My mother is going to be recognized with the All-American Track team later this spring.
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