CUDOS TO JETBLUE PILOTS EVERYWHERE.
ESCAPE
By Heather McKeown
The first thing I heard was a loud scream.
Boarding over a hundred people on any flight is an exercise in quick studies. As flight attendants, our days and long nights are sometimes spent entirely on one aircraft. For a four-leg monster day, we get on a plane, take off, land, take off, land, take off and land. This equates to a potentially exhausting day with as many as 600 new faces to meet, greet, serve and love. Mind you, this makes for a tremendously interesting space in time, with all the markings of adventure all over it!
The scream came from the jetbridge and the hair on my arms stood straight up. The rest of the people were already in their seats or just finishing the sometimes impossible task of stuffing their carry on baggage into overhead bins. However, with such a death cry reaching all ears, there was a sudden hush and inhalation of a breath to be held for as long as fear filled the air.
The law states that, as long as passengers are boarding a plane at the gate, the flight attendants can't disembark and wander away. So, even as my first instinct was to race to a victim's aid, I couldn't. Instead, I called the pilots out of the cockpit and sent them out to see what was needed.
Security was contacted and a kerfuffle took place out of my range of sight. One of the pilots came into view like the Pied Piper as he led five little children to the plane. They ranged from nine to a babe in his arms and I'd never been so happy to see a fly boy in all of my life.
“Heather. Take this one, will you? Get the rest of them into seats. I've got to go back to get their mother. Hurry up!”
I'm a mommy. I'm a grandma. I love children in general, but the captain's passing of one little baby to me and the curling around my legs of the remaining four tots gave me a crash course in being their new leader, too. By the commanding air of that pilot, I knew it wasn't just love these little ones needed. No. They needed protection of the first order. It was obvious that each child was lost, mixed up, messed up, petrified and without a clue as to what was going on in their lives. Of course, I didn't know what was happening, either. Would they be deplaned before take off? Was their mother screaming because she was afraid to fly, stubbed her toe, left her wallet back at the TSA checkpoint?
This was Las Vegas, where more folks arrive at the airport in any number of emotional or chemically encouraged states of mind. I'd wager that more people are refused boarding because of they 'appear to be intoxicated' than any other city in the world. It's rare that I'd ever bid for a layover in that place because, as a sensitive-intuitive, I can't take the constant bombardments of greed, gluttony and gambling vibes. 'nuf said about my feelings, let me finish the story of the screaming woman now.
This would be a flight that would never go fast enough for me. I wanted to hit Mach 1 velocity just to get the little family away from the Hell of their lives in Vegas.
The pilots escorted a thin, black woman with unkempt hair and a vacant look in her eyes. She, although black, was obviously fresh out of a boxing ring. There was swelling, red blotches, ruptured vessels in her eyes. She didn't walk as much as she allowed the pilots to drag her to the first row of the plane. Luckily, these were the seats where I'd placed the four walking children. The newborn was still in my arms, swaddled in a clean flannel blanket and sound asleep, thankfully.
Pilots. They're numbers 'are like a box of choc-lettes. You nevah know whatch yer gonna' get.' Their ranks cover the full spectrum of ego; from “I want you. I need you. I love you. I'll forget you.” to “Excuse me, ma'am. May I help you put your bag into the overhead?' and 'Excuse me, please, would you mind allowing me to open the door for you?” At SkyNation, the highest percentage of our flight crews, male and female, are wonderful and exemplify the company's five values at all times. SAFETY, CARING, INTEGRITY, PASSION and FUN. In our industry, this is a tremendous bonus because mutual respect is necessary for communication when all's well but, in the case of emergency situations, a good rapport among all crew members saves lives.
After she was placed in the front row, the pilots signaled me to have a private conference in my galley. “Her husband's out there. Security just got here and have him and are taking him away. He was beating her out there. He had his fists ready to take her down when we grabbed him. Let's get outta' here. Go and see if she's OK to fly. Then let's close the door fast and get her outta' this place!”
As I knelt beside her, she slowly turned that beaten face to me. I could tell she was beyond feeling the physical pain and that numbness would serve her well as we flew across the country.
“Ma'am, do you need a doctor? Would you like to stay here and go to a hospital? If you aren't well enough to fly, that may be the best idea. What do you think?”
“I'm OK. I've had it a lot worse than this. He did this two days ago so I'll be OK.” her eyes were dull. No tears. No nothing. A flat line affect of the a woman who'd hit bottom and doesn't remember what the top looks or feels like.
I passed this information to the captain and he, with his jaw set, said, “Let's close up.”
The children were very silent as I strapped them in their front row seats. Tiny little arms and legs, little flip-flop shoes, cotton shirts, little jeans, a sun dress or two. Limp little bodies that seemed to have no bones. Before take off, I took one of the mother's hands in mine and kissed it. It was as limp as the bodies of her children. “We'll get you there. We'll take care of you. Relax now.”
She just looked at me and I knew she'd tried this before and lost the fight. Somehow, I knew she'd not survive if our flight returned to the gate or she ended up back in Vegas, EVER. What good is the promise of a stranger? What good is the chivalry of protective men? We hope we are just strong bridges between two shores. Will the next beach be a safe one? Will safety last? The terribly realistic sadness comes to flight crews when folks hug us as they leave our care. That sadness stems from the fact that we'll never know if our deplaning friends will make it let alone thrive wherever they land. Sometimes, though, we are lucky enough to hear the end of their stories.
The pilots must have asked, “How's our abused lady doing?” fifty times during that flight. Towards the end of that four hour ride, the questions were more personal. “Find out if she needs some money.” and “Ask her if she knows where she'll be staying but tell her not to tell that guy where she's going, OK. Make sure you tell her to stay invisible for as long as it takes. Tell her, Heather.” A captain is the boss on a plane. I was really touched by the care these guys showed throughout that ride. Gentlemen do these things and my two pilots were examples of this trait.
All of the flight attendants put in extra effort in the care, entertainment and loving up of the four little ones. The mother held the newborn throughout the flight and wouldn't give him up to us, even for a second. That babe slept from boarding to deplaning. Such an angel. All of the children were very good and talked to us excitedly about going to their grandma's to live.
The mom seemed to gain strength as we moved from west to east. She sat straighter. She reached over to her other children and smiled more and more as we headed to New York. When she looked at me, she no longer seemed drugged by fear and powerlessness.
“I want to thank you for helping me, Heather, but it's the bunch of you, together, that'll never be forgotten. Those men flying the plane...I saw them grab my husband's arm and get him off me. They're something else!'
“Yes and are they ever worried about you. They're good men, that's for sure.”
“It was their father that did this.” she whispered to me as she pointed to her face. “Not the first time, but surely the last. My mother bought us the tickets home. We stayed at my friend's house for two days, then took a taxi to the airport. Just us, my kids and me. He musta' found out about it because he bought a ticket and came to the gate. I thought we could do it without that, you know?” she barely moved her head from side to side as she tried to fathom just how her husband had found out about her planned escape.
“What are your plans?”
“Well, he's probably in jail right now because of what he did while we were trying to get on the plane. I won't go back to testify. I'm pretty sure he's committed a felony just by behaving that way in an airport, right?”
“I sure hope so!”
“We'll live with my mother in New Jersey. She's been trying to get us back there for years. Since this all started.” again pointing to her ruined face. “I'm a medical transcriptionist, so I'll get a good job and Ma will care for my babies.” she stared past me as she said this. It was a promise to herself she was voicing. “He never beat me while I was pregnant so I kept thinking it was a thing of the past. Then he put his hands on me while this one was still in me. Then I knew, it wasn't ever going to be better. I'm divorcing him, that's a fact. Divorcing the father of my babies.” At this point, it became evident that the woman was no longer numb. She'd grown in stature during the flight and seemed bigger, taller, stronger, more assured, directed and confident in just the few hours it took to fly eastward. I think we witnessed a miracle that night. Like time lapse photography, the woman's inner being germinated, grew leaves, reached for the sun and became a blossom. The children felt it, too, and became more animated with each other and with the rest of the crew.
We landed. Only one flight left for us that night. We were all pretty tired. But how can anyone stay tired when we've come across the country with such an example of personal strength as this mother? She waited till everyone else deplaned before gathering her children and making for the exit. She stopped to bid a very special farewell to the pilots. There was no embrace for them, but her dignified display of gratitude and optimism gave them all the thanks they needed. I hoped the chivalry displayed by our pilots would be remembered when, at some future time, she could separate the good from the bad in men. She had sons to raise, after all and they, surely, would benefit greatly if all men were NOT considered equal in the eyes of their mother.
Then they were gone and it was time to load another hundred and fifty folks and head to another destination. Another safe shore for someone else? Always, one does exist for the abused or downtrodden who want to live a happier life. It can take anywhere from a first slap to a last punch to push an abused person to the point of getting on a plane for permanent escape. Are you in a bad relationship? SkyNation will take you home. Buy that ticket.
The first part of the story happened in 2005 or 2006. Like I said earlier, we never usually know how life turns out for our once-in-a-lifetime customers. We all just hope that sick folks get better, adoptions go through, divorces become final and abused people make good their escape from their tormentors. I have good news to report, about our lady and her five children, though.
In mid-2010, four children boarded my Vegas bound plane. They were 'unaccompanied' and ranged an age from about eleven downward to six or so. They were perfectly behaved and, halfway through the flight I thought, “Oh my goodness. I think THESE are the children we helped get the heck out of Vegas way back when!”
“I see from the paperwork that your daddy's meeting you at the airport.” I said to the oldest child.
“Yes. We haven't seen him for a long time because we moved to my Grandmother's when we were small because of the divorce.”
“That can be tough. Are you excited about this trip?”
“Yes. My dad has a new wife and a baby now so he sent for us!” he smiled broadly and sort of jumped up a bit in his seat.
“Do you have a baby brother that didn't come with you on this vacation?”
“Yes.”
“Is your mom a medical transcriptionist, by any chance?”
“Yes.”
As a parent and a mediator, I sometimes wonder at the ability of courts to assign rights and responsibilities or visitation to a proven abuser. In this case, I wondered if the mother was forced to send her children west or was just willing to take a chance on the father's rehabilitation. Was the father of these children now happily beating the new wife to a pulp? Would these children see too much, realize too much and then return to their mother forever scarred? Like I've said, people get off our planes and we don't always know what transpires. We do wonder. We do worry. A lot of us send blessings along with our 'Thanks for flying with us” cliché.
The flight came to an end. The children were taken to their father by one of our ground agents. We can only hope the leopard has changed his spots. It could have happened. Vegas. I guess anything can happen there, if you're willing to gamble.
Thanks Heather... a wonderful story strangers helping their fellow human beings when in distress
Heather is an accomplished writer and author
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