Planet Molly is a happy place!

My husband Peter and I were running late to pick up Julie from the airport. We were usually running late, and it was usually my fault. Peter and I decided he would drop me off at the airport’s entrance so I could run in while he parked the car, so Julie wouldn’t think we had forgotten her.

I went into the airport and looked at the screens but didn’t see Julie’s flight listed. I knew it had probably already landed but thought it would be listed as “Arrived” at least. I found the nearest airport employee who was standing at a kiosk and asked about Julie’s flight, giving him all of the information I had. He glanced at a list in front of him and told me I was in the wrong terminal, and pointed to the tram which was about to leave and would take me to the correct terminal. I ran for it and just made it before the doors closed.

After the tram was moving, I debated if I should have waited for Peter before heading to a different terminal, but the kiosk where I spoke to the airport employee was right by the door, so I thought Peter would get the same information I did and be on the next tram right behind me. I wanted to make it to the correct terminal in time to meet Julie before she gave up on getting a ride from us and took a taxi.

For anyone who is wondering why we didn’t text or call each other, this was in 1997. None of us owned cell phones.

Since the Dallas/Fort Worth airport is huge, the tram ride to the other terminal took twenty minutes. I was bouncing up and down on my toes while I held onto the ceiling strap, urging the tram to move faster. When we finally arrived, I was the first one off the tram. I think the other riders let me off first, whether because they could see I was in a hurry and were being kind, or because they wanted to give the crazy, twitchy lady a wide berth, I don’t know.

I ran to an airport employee asking for Julie’s flight. This person told me her flight landed back at the terminal where I had just been! I told her an airport employee had sent me to this terminal and she shrugged. How dare she shrug at me! I didn’t have time to bemoan the abysmal customer service of D/FW and boarded the tram which would take me back to where I had just been.

I wondered if Peter had come in and found Julie or if he had received the same incorrect information I had and was also uselessly riding the tram around the airport. Or if he had not received the wrong information, where would he think I was? And I worried about Julie! She had been traveling from Kazakhstan, where her son worked as a missionary, was probably exhausted from a long day of travel, and now was potentially stuck at the airport while they tried to find me.

I wished Peter would drive Julie home and come back for me, but I knew he wouldn’t do that. Even though I am a grown-up who can take care of myself, he would worry about me and not want to leave without me.

After an eternity, the tram arrived back where I had started. I got off, and when I didn’t see Peter or Julie after a cursory glance, I went to a courtesy phone to have Peter paged. When the operator came on, I gave her Peter’s name and asked to have him paged. She asked, “Are you Traci?” I told her yes, and she said, “Turn around. Peter just paged you from the same phone. He has to be close by.” I could hear the laughter in her voice. I thanked her and turned around. And the operator had been right. Peter was standing with Julie about twenty feet behind me. I headed in their direction, and Peter saw me when I had only gone a few steps and ran towards me at full speed, scooping me into a hug and swinging me around as if he hadn’t seen me in years. Swinging me around was quite a feat since I have always weighed more than he does. He said, “I was so worried! I thought you'd been kidnapped!”

I know I shouldn't have but I burst out laughing. “Kidnapped?! That's where your brain went?!” Julie laughingly said, “I tried to convince him you hadn't been kidnapped, but I'm not sure I succeeded.”

I told them what had happened. Peter said there had not been anybody at the kiosk by the door when he came in, and he found Julie right away. They had no idea where I was. Julie had checked the closest women's restroom to no avail. Peter immediately had me paged and became more and more distressed as I didn't respond. We found out the pages only work in one terminal and people in the trams can't hear them either. How useless!

I apologized to Julie for making her wait for 45 minutes for a ride, and she reassured me it wasn't my fault. She added, “Besides, not only am I getting a free ride home from the airport, but I get to enjoy the Peter and Traci Comedy Hour.”

After we drove Julie safely home, Peter and I agreed we would never again separate at an airport.