FLYING HOME
We were up at to catch the tube to Victoria Station where we ate a hearty English breakfast and then caught the train to London Gatwick Airport for our flight to JFK.
We were delayed on the runway for an hour because of bad weather and then delayed after landing while waiting for a free gate. At JFK we had less than an hour to go through immigration and to pick up and forward our bags and make the long trek to the gate. I was certain we would miss our flight connection to Atlanta. But we didn’t. It wasn’t a miracle. It was because a wheel chair was waiting for me when we arrived, which we needed, not because I couldn’t walk (I had walked 7 miles in London the day before) but partly because the guy pushing the wheel chair was moving much faster than I could walk, but even more because he knew how to cut right to the front of every line we encountered, once even having a uniformed Delta attendant guide us through, lifting the tape which kept people in line whenever necessary. Susie, behind me, was barely able to keep up as the long corridors stretched ahead of us. But we made it to the gate even as the loading had begun.
The connection in Atlanta was easy, although the woman (man) pushing the wheelchair was obviously trans and eager to get advice from Susie about what to do if four men were interested in her at the same time.
Finally we were in Knoxville at midnight (5 a.m. England time) where Richard and Beth, Kathy’s mother picked us up and a little later tucked us in bed.
BILLYBABA’S WANDERING 