Stranded

 Reminiscing about 9/11.

My Dad was 67 years old, recently retired, and wanted to see the great American Southwest.  The Painted Desert, Hoover Dam, the Grand Canyon.   He and Mom planned a trip and decided that Los Vegas would serve nicely as a hub for this adventure.  They booked the trip and in early September 2001 got on a plane.

Early afternoon of 9/11 the phone rang.  It was my sister.  "Dad and Mom are stranded in Los Vegas."

I considered that information briefly, weighed options, said "Okey", and hung up the phone.

She called back immediately.  "Did you hear me? Dad and Mom are stranded in Los Vegas!  They got on the plane this mourning, but it didn't take off.  They are back at the hotel. Stranded in Vegas."

I softened my tone. "Sweetheart, do you hearer what you are saying? If I had to make a list of places to be stranded in, Vegas would be at the top. I'm sure that the Old Man has a clean, comfortable room with a TV and a cafe on the first floor."  I continued. "If they were stranded in Jasper, Texas I would get in the car and head west.   They are not, they are stranded in Los Vegas. They'll be fine."

Mom and Dad got home four or five days later. The only thing Dad was upset about was that they would not let him board the flight with his pocket knife. They took his little 3-blade stockman knife that he carried everywhere and he was mightily offended.