Introducing Airport Anecdotes!

As Woodhaven Ramblings readers know, Rob and I are part of the highly envied team of volunteers who accompany fluffy therapy llamas to Portland, Oregon’s airport. The unexpected (but increasingly highly anticipated) animals bring distraction, smiles, deep breaths, and good cheer to travelers and airport employees alike. Indeed, some of the llamas' biggest fans are TSA agents. I never get tired of seeing a TSA agent determined to exude an air of authority melt into unguarded fandom while hugging a llama.

As we’ve spent time at PDX, Rob and I started noticing friendly, helpful folks wearing blue jackets and vests scattered all around the airport. Positioned in high-traffic areas, the Blue People are there to answer questions, provide directions, and help make PDX easy to navigate. Yet another reason PDX is one of the very best airports, period.

“We should do that someday! You know, when we retire from our current version of retirement.”

Rob and I asked around and got ourselves on a waiting list with the warning that it can take a few years to get into the Volunteer Information Program (VIP), as the retention rate is very high.

Well…

It turns out that our frolics around PDX with the llamas put us in the “Airport Experience” category of VIP hopefuls. Most people in this category are retired flight attendants, pilots, former airport security people, gate agents, baggage handlers. “Llama Wrangler” is not typical airport work. But since when was Portland – or even me and Rob – typical?

Our unexpected “Airport Experience” status granted us access to the Express Lane to Blue Personhood. In other words, what Rob and I thought would take several years ended up taking a few months. Oops! And WOW!

Live trees! Wood ceiling! Still need to check out
the new Speakeasy upstairs!

Rob and I have been busy getting trained by a slew of mentors. Christine, Jim, Joanne, Tina, Bri, and Mindy have been super helpful touring us around the concourses, explaining Lost & Found procedures, modeling the best ways to explain the locations of Baggage Claim, Uber, and rental cars, and reinforcing the many rules behind our “go lots of places” badges. It has been a firehose of information!

Thanks to scheduling and general impatience, I finished my training and “flew solo” for the first time last night. Rob will likely get his wings in the next week or two. We will then start figuring out what our volunteer schedules will look like, with the hope that we can get shifts at the same time and have our own quirky version of Date Night on a semi-regular basis.

In the midst of our training, it has become obvious that this gig is ripe for fun stories. While many inquiring travelers just want to know where to get their luggage and then find their ride, there are also those oddball situations. Those “didn’t quite think it through” situations. Those “I didn’t see that coming” situations. Those “THIS is why I have a blog” situations.

And so, I am excited to introduce a new and occasional series of blog posts called “Airport Anecdotes!” I have four entries to bring us up to date.

 

The Marine

A young Marine fresh from boot camp came to the Information Booth. He had just arrived and needed to figure out how to get home.

Problem 1: He was surprising his family for Thanksgiving so he couldn’t call them for a ride.

Problem 2: He was 18 years old, so he was too young to rent a car.  Also, not a lot of cash or credit card availability.

Problem 3: The town he lived in was about 200 miles and 4 hours southwest of the airport.

Lots of ground transportation options were explored, the most palatable of which was taking a bus about halfway and then finding an Uber and hoping Mom and Dad would be willing to pay upon his arrival.

Eventually, because the kid was 18 and had like-minded friends ready for adventure, a buddy was contacted and agreed to make the 8-hour round trip to rescue the young recruit.

 

The Lost Grandma

A mom with 3 young children and Grandma arrived in Baggage Claim from Kansas City. They had rented a car through a service called Turo, which is basically an Air B&B for cars. The car is parked in a random spot in Long Term Parking and the customer is given scavenger-hunt-like clues for how to find it. Fun times, especially after a long flight with 3 humans under the age of 5!

Going above and beyond, Rob offered to accompany the group to find their rented minivan. Grandma lagged behind but it was promised she would keep up. Spoiler alert: she did not.

When Rob returned to a public area to retrieve Grandma and escort her to the located minivan, Grandma was nowhere to be found.

Six miles of searching, a dead cell phone battery, two White Courtesy Telephone pages, contact with the Port Police and an Avis ticket counter, and a desperate-not-to-sound-spammy note to a friend in Kansas City via Facebook Messenger finally reunited Grandma with the harried group noshing on Rob-provided snacks in Short Term Parking.

 

The Iceland Air Guy

While hanging out around the Ticketing Hall, a man in his 40s wheeling a large suitcase casually approached us.

“Where is the Iceland Air ticket counter?”

Several hours prior, this would have been an easy question to answer, as Iceland Air had been checking in passengers on Aisle 3. But thanks to slick digital signage, that ticket counter was gone and was now promising the eventual arrival of Hawaiian Air employees to check in lucky duck passengers.

We looked around, verified a proximate airline employee was not Icelandic, and returned to the man who was patiently waiting for guidance. Without any hint of concern or panic, he confirmed he needed to check in for his flight and check his suitcase, as it was clearly much too large to carry on.

“Sir, what time is your flight?”

“2:45”

My watch revealed it was 2:25.

We double checked his boarding pass – and I wanted to double check his pulse. He was FAR too calm and unconcerned that he had arrived at the airport 30 minutes before a flight – and an international one at that – with unrealistic expectations to board an aircraft.

When last we saw him, the passenger no longer bound for Reykjavík was peacefully sitting on a bench next to his suitcase, calling the airline’s Customer Service number for assistance.

 

The Birth Certificates

Three of us Blue People were standing in the Entry Hall among the trees (yes, live trees inside the airport – PDX ROCKS!). A couple in their 40s or 50s approached us. They explained a sister was arriving in about an hour from Phoenix. She was going to get on a flight back to Phoenix less than an hour later. They wanted to know if she would be arriving and departing from the same gate.

After some sleuthing and a visit to the Frontier Ticket Counter, we determined that yes, the arrival and departure would be at the same gate. However, there was still a problem.

The sister was arriving for the sole purpose of picking up original copies of two birth certificates that the wife had clutched against her chest in a folder. The husband and wife did not have clearance to go past security, and the sister would not have time to exit security, retrieve the certificates, go back through security, and get to Gate C16 in time for her flight home.

Fortunately, we had about an hour to come up with a plan.

The good news is, our badges allow us to go in and out of TSA Security without tickets. So, theoretically, one of us could have been shown a photo of the sister and met her at Gate C16 and handed her the documents.

The bad news is, while we can retrieve accidentally left-behind items, we’re not allowed to deliver new items to passengers. You know, security and all.

Thankfully, the TSA agents at PDX are fantastic.

We chatted with an agent who talked with his supervisor. When the sister arrived, she called her brother. She was given instructions where to meet the TSA supervisor post-security who handed her the folder with the birth certificates. Our agent emerged from the secured area with a big smile and a blue latexed hand giving an enthusiastic thumbs up. The couple left the airport grateful, exhausted, and relieved.