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Howard Linett
"Fly Someone Else!"
December 17, 2009
 

That is exactly what the scruffy, pint-sized and nasty Atlanta based Delta Airlines Captain said to me. He spoke in a tone of voice reserved for junior and very inferior officers under his command. His facial expression and confrontational body language dared me to say something that would give him the excuse to remove me from the flight soon to depart from Atlanta to Tel Aviv. I was saved by a fellow traveler who injected, "We would, but no one else flies to Israel from Atlanta.

I had booked and paid for my international flight back around May. I chose Delta for only one reason - a $734.00 round trip fare. It was an incredible deal. I reside in Jerusalem and needed to be back home in the USA for the entire month of November. I was giving a series of lectures on Terrorist Attack Tactics and Suicide Terrorism to law enforcement and emergency preparedness professionals in our Nation's Capital and across the Midwest. Since I was already collecting Delta frequent flier miles for my international flights, I booked all my domestic flights, Washington, DC to Minneapolis, Minneapolis to Des Moines, Des Moines to Chicago and Chicago to DC on Delta. The price and schedule Delta offered in mid-summer was no better nor worse than that offered by the other airlines that flew out of Dulles Airport.

I had not traveled by airline domestically for years, except for a single direct flight from DC to Denver and back. I had no idea that a reliable flight schedule was a thing of the past. My painfully aggravating and frustrating education in modern American air travel, aka passenger abuse, began about a month before my departure to the USA. Sunday morning I woke to an  email from Delta announcing my flight schedule had been changed. "The changes are in Bold," I was informed. All my domestic flights were listed. I did not see any bold print. I did not see any changes in departure or arrival times that jumped out at me. I forgot about the email.

The following Sunday I woke to another Delta Airlines, "Your Flight Has Been Changed," email notification. This time it was my flight from Tel Aviv to Atlanta with connecting flight getting me into Washington, Dulles at approximately 09:15. Instead, I was now flying to New York's JFK Airport. I was to sit there a couple of hours, then be flown to Atlanta. I was to sit there additional hours before being flown to Dulles arriving around mid-afternoon. In a prior lifetime I worked for the Air Line Pilots Association as an attorney/contract administrator. During those years I flew too much. I understand the concept and need for "overbooking" domestic flights and "bumping" (a euphemism for you don't get to fly on the booked, paid-for and confirmed flight you purchased) domestic passengers. But "bumping" someone from their international flight was an altogether entirely different matter. My "wake-up call" was now received load and clear. I figured I'd better take a second look at the email concerning my domestic flights. I printed out the email.

Unreal! I had not seen any "bold" because each and every one of my flights, and their individual "legs" where I was not flying direct, was in "bold." Time to telephone Delta Customer Service.

To my surprise, I was connected to a pleasant gentleman in America (not New Deli, India). I expressed my outrage at being "bumped from my Tel Aviv flight." I explained I could live with the changes to my domestic flights, but that being flown up and down the East Coast on the day of my arrival, instead of attending to business in downtown DC at noon, was unacceptable. Try as he might the customer service representative could not get me back on my flight. The best he could do was put me on the identical flight 24 hours earlier than my original booking. It was not a good solution, but it was the best of bad alternatives.

The following Saturday night no email came. Instead, I received a phone call at around 21:00 from Delta's Reservations Center in New Deli, India. The very polite voice was calling to tell me there were changes to my domestic flight schedule, but changes making my flights better. I was asked to "write-down the changes." I said, "No thank you. Send me an email with the changes." No email from India followed. But the "Flight Change" notices continued. I became aware that my Delta flights would not all be on Delta Airlines or a Delta connection. Some of my flights would now be on Northwest Airlines or a Northwest connection. I became so gun-shy of these continuing notices and frankly confused, that I had to notify the folks coming to collect me, that my arrival times and the name of the airline which I would be flying was "a best guess."

The final frustration was trying to check-in by computer 24 hours before my initial domestic flight. I couldn't. My Delta confirmation number did not work. My son heard my growing ire. He handed me the keys to the pickup and five dollars. He suggested that my 2 year-old grandson did not need to learn a new vocabulary. I was requested to drive to the local McDonalds and buy myself a chocolate shake. My son would handle my check-in. He did, as he did for each of my other flights, after discovering I had a secret Northwest flight confirmation number. If my Delta number did not allow my son to log-on, the Northwest did.

Actually flying around the Midwest and back to DC, I encountered all the unpleasantness fliers can expect to encounter. For example, more often than not, flying on aircraft with no space inside for regulation size carry-on bags so the contents of your carry-on gets wet from inclement weather while being transferred from the entrance of the aircraft to the cargo hold of the aircraft. I also experienced the fun of being left in the dark on the tarmac at the very end of a terminal (no jet-way available) with my fellow passengers, all trying to figure out whose carry-on was whose. At least it wasn't raining. Then there is "the dash" from where you arrive to where your connecting flight departs. It seemed as if I never experienced less than a 20 minute forced march from one location to the other. I could go on, but if you need to regularly fly, you do not need me to remind you of the abuse.

Despite all my aggravation, Delta or Northwest, actually their "connection" regional airlines got me where I needed to be when I needed to be there. The commuter aircraft crews and gate attendants were pleasant and helpful, especially those of the Northwest family, whose fate at the hands of acquiring Delta was not to be known until close to Christmas. All of the many customer service representatives who assisted my son and myself were likewise patient, pleasant and made things happen. In fact, I'd pretty much decided not to write about my Delta distress, until Delta's version of Captain Bligh verbally began to flog me. I simply could not pass up quoting his nastiness.

We were sitting at the last gate of the terminal. Each and every one of us had already been fully searched by the Transportation Safety Administration. We had all been confined to a sterile area. I thought my beltless pants had fallen down embarrassing me for the last time. I'd put back on my wristwatch and my dog-tags. I'd even bought my ceremonial "I already miss America," extra large chocolate shake from the McDonald's thoughtfully located in our terminal and was mellowly waiting for it to reach sufficient meltdown to drink. That is when the TSA folks arrived at a Plexiglas enclosure at our gate and I watched the flight crew and their bags undergo the same rigorous search each passenger had undergone before being permitted to enter the departure gate/terminal area of the airport.

Surprise, all passengers would also be required to repeat going through security. So after being made to throwaway my yet-to-thaw, Good-by America consolation milk shake and having gone through the standard TSA screening of my person and carry-ons, while simultaneously holding up my pants, looking for my belt, trying to protect both my veteran laptop computer and my brand new Black Friday (I was first in line at Wal-Mart) super laptop and trying to get myself, my shoulder bag, my carry-on, my coat, shoes, ball-cap and everything else (I seldom travel light) out of the way of the folks behind me, I turn backwards to discover Captain Bligh struggling as was I. I asked him, "Why the pilots hadn't come to some arrangement with TSA to stop this (their being searched)." His response?

"This is the most secure flight in the world! Fly someone else!" I pointed out to him that the aircraft onto which we were about to board was not flying EL AL's colors. Nor was he a veteran Israeli Air Force combat pilot. I didn't bother to start educating him about some of the other security measures on EL AL flights.

I have come away from my latest travel adventures with a new perspective. I am convinced that Congress should reconsider the special monopolistic freedom granted the airline industry to employ contracts of adhesion and thus avoid the lawsuits and liability for breach of contract that any other seller of services would face. Deregulation is fine, but perhaps we should allow the normal rules of Contract and Damages for Breach of Contract to control the Airline-Passenger relationship. We might just end up with better airline travel. And my encounter with the scruffy and nasty Delta Captain Bligh reminded me of a joke frequently used, lovingly of course, at times of employer-employee stress, by the staff of the Air Line Pilots Association. This is the cleaned-up version.

Question: What is black, six inches long and hangs in front of a butt?

Answer: A pilot's tie.