So in the car up to LAX, Biggest Guy says let’s not make a big deal of this, you guys can just walk me to the ticket counter and we’ll all be off. It’s about him, so I say sure.
He wants something to drink, and we want to drag out the leavetaking, so we stop at Starbucks on Sepulveda, just north of the airport. The young woman at the register looks at him in his uniform and says – “My husband is in Iraq. It’s so weird…somehow I’ve seen all these people in uniform today. It’s like you’re telling me he’ll be home soon.”
The security line for United extends out onto the bridge to the parking lot, and as we walk by everyone waiting patiently or impatiently to get to their gate, an authoritative woman (tall, middle-aged, slender, black) in a United uniform stops us – and tells us to go to this specific counter to check him in. We do, and magically, there’s no line there.
At the counter, TG looks at me and asks if we should ask for gate passes; I say no, BG’s got a plan, and let’s work to his plan today.
Now he’s checked in to Dallas, and we’re directed back up the non-working escalator to the security line. I’m thinking about it, thinking about what to say, walking up and holding TG’s hand. We get to the top of the escalator and we hear a loud “Soldier!” turn and it’s the authoritative woman, who lifts the cord and gestures for him to jump the line.
That’s it. I get one brief hug, say “Do good” and suddenly my chest is full as TG grabs him and then lets him go and he vanishes into security.
We’ll see him again at the green ramp at Bragg in the fall.
Now he’s going back to work, and it’s back to work for all of us as well. Blogging will resume shortly.
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