Update: The flight was delayed 45 minutes -- we had to wait on the pilots, who were coming in from D.C. -- but on a day like this, arriving 45 minutes late constitutes a Major Win. You’ll be relieved to know that Team AJC is on the ground in Tampa.
Esteemed colleague Darryl Orlando Ledbetter and I just had lunch. He had the Cobb salad. I had the club sandwich. And now you’re up to date. What follows was written around daybreak at Hartsfield-Jackson.
The Falcons’ game at Tampa Bay is the softest commute for an Atlanta-based scribe. The TPA airport has a Marriott in it. (In case you haven’t heard, sports writers are the best repeat customers Marriott has. We’ll do anything for those points.) The stadium is 10 minutes from the airport. Apart from weather – and we NEVER get any December snow here, do we? – what could go wrong?
As it stands, my 10:05 a.m. flight is showing “on time.” Except for the few hours I managed to fall asleep, I’ve checked every five minutes since yesterday afternoon, fully expecting “canceled” to appear. It hasn’t yet. Fingers remain crossed.
You know how they say “arrive at the airport two hours ahead of your flight.” I’m one who does. Except today, when I got here 3 ½ hours early. I’d prepared for the worst. I’m delighted to report that Hartsfield-Jackson seems to be functioning at somewhere around – this is me estimating based on not very much – 60 percent capacity. The trains aren’t running. (This was worse for D-Led than yours truly. He’s in the E terminal; I’m in A.)
I spoke with a Delta pilot on the escalator. I asked if there was any chance a 10:05 flight might leave anywhere close to that time. He said, “Maybe.” Then: “It’s a lot better here than it was yesterday.”
Here I pause to acknowledge the obvious: I had an anxious night and an early morning; some 40,000 folks got stuck for hours on runways and in the powerless airport. There’s a man sleeping on the floor four feet from me as I type. There are long lines in the North Terminal. The security line wasn’t bad. Some of the departure/arrival boards are working. The power outlets are working. Most of the shops and restaurants around me appear operational. Planes are at gates. Planes are being boarded. Fingers remain crossed.
It is, however, foggy. I asked the pilot – this was around a half-hour ago – if any planes had taken off. He said a few had. “Those are the ones that can operate in the fog,” he said, “which 99 percent of Delta planes can.”
(From what I gather, most of today’s cancellations, at least so far, are for inbound flights. There are so many planes and people stacked up in Atlanta that Delta needs to get those planes and people in the air to “reset its system.”)
I asked the pilot where he was going. He said home. He’d gotten stuck here overnight. “Atlanta has some explaining to do,” he said. I conceded that this hasn’t, infrastructure-wise, been the greatest year for our city. We had an Interstate bridge collapse. We have a new stadium with a retractable roof that leaks and doesn’t often retract. We have a superfluous dome that wouldn’t quite fall down. Now this.
As I type, I’m listening to the usual recorded message from the Atlanta mayor. He’s saying that, at Hartsfield-Jackson, “efficiency and customer service are our focus.” Expert timing, I’d say.
But enough carping. It’s 7:42 a.m. I just heard a plane take off. Fingers remain crossed.
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