4:30am, Friday, March the 18th - my alarm rang. At 5:25am, BART arrived and I was on my way to catch my 6:30am flight at SFO. The forecast warned Bay Area of a rainy weekend. I was glad to be away from getting myself drenched in the rain and wind.
11:15am I landed at Minneapolis. It has been a while since I last saw the gentle fallings of snow on the ground. Made me missed those snow-filled days in college at the humble state of West Virginia. I've got more than enough time until my next flight out to Kansas City at 1:30pm. As I stare out the windows, I sure wished to be outside being shocked by the chill and sprinkled by the falling snow... just for a few minutes. I still haven't forget how the coldness eventually bites after 10 minutes.
Flight was delayed until 2:05pm. By 2:30pm, it was officially announced that it was cancelled. The innocent scene of snow outside the windows began to be plagued by strong winds. Visibility is diminishing and hopes of getting out of Minneapolis dissipated. After walking a mile to the next scheduled flight's gate, I was told that I'm #71 on the waiting list for 4:40pm flight and #29 for the 6:40pm flight. I tried my luck to see if I could fly into Wichita by walking another mile to its gate and placing myself #2 on its waiting list for 7pm. Took the long mile walk back to be #71 where it would be close to a miracle that I'll be boarding. Just in case that happens, I bought a lotto ticket. The price was 10 million dollars. True enough, that flight took off without me along with the millions of dissatisfied soon-to-be airport bumps. Flight at 6:40pm was eventually cancelled but only after I walked the mile to its gate. Before heading to my last hope of getting out of Minneapolis, I found out on the screen that the flight was delayed until 9pm. By then, I was able to properly sit down without continuously putting momentum on my legs since 2:30pm. I called my manager to break the news and I did so with a conscience that I've tried my best. Next confirmed flight is 7:30am the next morning. I've never quite stayed overnight at an airport before. I wasn't looking forward to this first experience. Later I was told that someone will be picking me up. It was a sparkle in my dimmed situation but that sparkle was put out when I was told that it is impossible for me to get my luggage out of baggage claim. With a dead battery in need of a charger, I lost contact with the rest of the world. With the help of numerous bystanders' cellphones, I established contact with my ride and was set on my way at 9pm. Things could only get interestingly worst.
My first Samaritan, Shen walked about the baggage claim looking for me. Though there were just few asian folks at the same level, it took us more than 20 mins to cross each other's path. I found out that we have to travel 420 miles to get to where we needed to go. I can't quite envisage the better between the experience of a placid blizzard night inside of an airport or the frenzy gush of snow which blindfolded even my passenger eyes on I-35? When our car plowed into two feet of snow on the right side of the highway, my mind was overwhelmed with regrets that I even complained about rain in San Francisco, that I even dread staying securely at the airport and that I even thought of this trip. We were just 30 feet away from the sign, "Welcome to Iowa". With a dead cellphone, a thin fleece coat and futile attempts to rock the car out of the ditch, I fell deeper into contemplation. The hazard lights were no signs of distressed individuals in the car, so I tried the brake lights in hopes of help. Thank God for two college students who stopped and offered help.
Grant and Blake were on their adventure to hike up a mountain (can't remember which one). They were prepared and had the gears to camp and hike in the snow, but they definitely were not prepared for a blizzard on the road. Due to their kind Samaritan hearts, they allowed both of us to squeeze into their Civic Coupe. Compared to standing out and being stranded and scrubed by snow on winds at 70 miles/hr, we were in heaven. Visibility got worst. At the back of my mind, I accumulated fear, not just of the snow, but of death. Such thoughts just revived my lost regrets. True enough, conditions got worst externally and internally as the civic plunged into the snow on the left side of the road. However, being stranded with more people does has its subtle comfort. Without having to take notice of time and analyze the condition of the car, a van stopped on the road to offer assistance.
Jim after driving for several hundred miles, were longing for the comfort of home as he cruized down I35 for the 5th time making his runs. Equiped with truck tires and a Samaritan heart of gold, he gave refuge to the 4 of us without any contemplations. He told us that he picked up some ISU students before and drove them all the way to their campus. He's a regular Samaritan of I35. Being in that van helped me rid of my regrets and welcomed hopes of life as Jim's truckwheeled van blazed through the snow. I could actually sit down comfortably and look forward to a tomorrow. Jim drove us for more than 100 miles to Holiday Inn at Ames, Iowa.
1am. We bid Jim, the regular samaritan of I35, goodbye. Jim rejected our monetary gratitudes and left us with a great model of Samaritan-hood when he requested us to do unto others what he did unto us. While Jim get back on his journey home, four of us have yet to get to where we set out to be. We were too tired to think about how to get our cars out. We settled for comfortable beds and hot showers. Left all the worries as we dozed off peacefully.
10am. A small hotel's breakfast was nothing short of pure disappointment. Eggs were hard-boiled and bagels were the pancakes substitutes. Sausages, Ham and Bacons weren't even worthy of what we paid ($70/night with tax), they were actually non-existent. As we left Ames, Iowa, our thoughts were synchronized, "Never would I think of any reason to be or to come to Ames, Iowa, and yet, I spent the night here". A few of life's ironies and unexplained destinies.
3pm. We got our car towed out and eventually bid farewell to our two samaritans. It was a weird way of meeting friends and perhaps there is a purpose for this divine encounter over a blizzard spring break weekend. Grant and Blake were off to hike their mountain while Shen and I are 350 miles away from Wichita, Kansas. Never felt better driving further and further away from the snow.
11:30pm we arrived at Quality Inn at Wichita. I was just glad that there were no cops on the toll portion of I35 for the 3 hours that I drove at an average of 90miles/hr. It was hard to believe that we have reached our destination. Perhaps the trip would have seemed mediocre if I have just spent 8 hours getting to Wichita instead of 31 hours.
Just want to say "Thanks" to Shen who drove me all the way to Wichita from Minneapolis, to Grant and Blake who was willing to take on extra passengers, and to Jim who took care of us until we found a place to sleep. Shen and I were the helpless victims, injured by the cold blizzard, who benefitted the most out of the rescue as Grant and Blake were there to tender to our wounds and later Jim came to bring us to the inn (drawing in contrast to the Samaritan story).
Thanks for making my spring break a memorable one!
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