Scott’s Southwest struggles: A WISH-TV reporter fails Travel 101

INDIANAPOLIS (WISH) — Wow, did I pick a bad time for a digital detox.

Early Sunday morning, a well-rested and deeply grateful Sander family wrapped up a sun-drenched spring break trip.

We had just taken our first-ever cruise together, successful in the aim of adding another national park to our lifetime total.

The week at sea left us smiling widely but also, as it turns out, totally uninformed.

We had decided at the beginning of the voyage NOT to buy the “internet package” and instead stayed nearly device-free. Seven days without phones? Yes, please!

Funny thing about phones, though, is that they can help you head off huge headaches, too.

While I had managed to get online long enough to check-in to our flight 24 hours ahead of time, I hopped back offline immediately – thus failing to follow the simple advice experts frequently tell our WISH-TV viewers: “Make sure to check for problems before you head out to the airport!”

Oops.

If I had spent one minute checking WISHTV.com, I would have seen that Southwest had been hit with crazy delays, and known that we were Ubering from the port straight into chaos.

Our first hint of trouble came curbside at Orlando International Airport, when we grabbed our bags, bid the driver adieu, and ran headlong into a line of people who looked like someone had poured salt in their coffee. They all had luggage at their feet and frowns on their faces.

Attempting to steer clear of whatever was making the mood so foul, we went through the doors – and immediately realized it was much worse inside.

Lines seemed to snake in every direction, with no clear view of where they started or where they were headed.

So, as someone who asks questions for a living, I said cheerily to the nearest fellow traveler, “Is this the line for Southwest?”

Before she could respond, the person behind her snapped “Sorry, Charlie! You have to go back there!” and pointed to Pensacola (or so it seemed). Suddenly, I felt like Ralphie in “A Christmas Story” when he gets an earful for accidentally cutting the Santa Claus line.

Compounding the error of my initial ignorance, I again did not dive into my nearest device to determine the source of all the sourness.

Instead, I simply looked up at the arrivals and departures board and spotted our flight. It was still six hours away and listed “On Time,” so we headed to some empty couches for a nap, then the food court for lunch and a few hands of cards.

Three hours later, we gathered up our courage and our luggage, heading back toward the baggage counter. At first, it appeared that our patience had paid off – the lines were much shorter, and our bags were out of our hands and into Southwest’s care quickly.

Phew.

Then, not 20 minutes later, a text, reading, “Your flight is cancelled. You have been rescheduled to Tuesday afternoon.”

I’m sorry — TUESDAY? AFTERNOON?!?

Turning to the flight board again, we now saw a sea of crimson, with delays and cancellations crowding out almost everything else. Among the changes, right there between Houston and Islip, were two Indianapolis flights. One was running hours late; the other (ours) was off completely.

The official cause: Weather, mainly “pop-up” storms that hit over the weekend, snarling traffic, and putting flight crews out of position.

So much for our post-vacation bliss.

Quickly – and thankfully – my bride and my daughter (who don’t panic as easily as I do), took up the task of finding a way out. They dispatched me to find our luggage as they looked into rental cars and alternate flights.

The results were mixed. I, frankly, failed. Southwest had decided not to pull checked bags back out of the system to return to their owners. Instead, the airline agents promised the bags would arrive at their original destinations, whether the owners decided to use the flights or not. We took this news in stride as our luggage was mostly just dirty clothes, anyway.

A woman in line in front of me had no such luxury and was furious about it. Wearing, somewhat ironically, a backpack featuring the Magic Kingdom, she first politely, then forcefully, told the baggage agent that the situation was unacceptable.

The end of the exchange:

“My insulin is in there! It’s my property, and you cannot keep it from me!”

“We don’t have the staff to get those bags. I’m very sorry.”

“The hell you are!”

Awkward silence.

Things were going slightly better upstairs, where the Sander women had formulated an absurdly perfect plan. Rent a car, drive three hours south to Ft. Myers, stay the night with a relative, and then hop on a Spirit flight Monday.

“Nonsense,” I said. “It’s folly to drive south to go north!”

Then, as the rest of the family glared, I slowly came to the realization that with no Southwest flights, no affordable flights on any other airlines, and no rental cars cleared for out-of-state drop-offs … Tammy and Maren were 100% right.

With a long story getting longer, I’ll spare more details and deliver the highlights of our successful “Plan D,” or whatever it turned out to be:

• The Florida Turnpike is not the quietest place to pull over and do a live television report about flight delays, but I survived.
• The folks at Hungry Howie’s in Fort Meade are very patient and kind Sunday night at 8:57.
• Do NOT follow the Apple Maps directions to Dollar Rental at RSW, unless you want to end up on the wrong side of the airfield, 7 miles away from the terminal, and nearly miss your backup flight.
• Do NOT doubt the wisdom of the women in your life.

In conclusion, we had a wonderful vacation. We’re extremely lucky to be able to have taken it, and with luck, it won’t be 25 more years until the next one.

(And if we do, I’ll probably buck up for the internet package.)

Happy Travels!