Going to Dallas--The Long-distance Commute

Today’s commute took me all the way to Dallas and back. Because of the early start and late return I didn’t park my car at the usual park and ride spot but drove directly to the North Springs station. From there I boarded a train to the airport and picked up my flight to Texas. The days activities proceeded as planned and I began my journey home about 3pm eastern time.

My return flight was on time. I mention this as a point of emphasis to indicate the anomaly it is. Yet despite arriving and beginning the deplaning process on time I still felt delayed because I was on the very last row of the plane (how does that always happen to me? Did I offend some boarding agent in a past life and now they have earned their revenge by tagging my profile with the directive to always be given the last row of an airplane now matter what?)

Anyway, by the time I and the flight crew stepped off of the plane into the terminal I was feeling tired and late after all but I continued my journey down the gate hallway and down the escalators to the airport tram train that shuttles people from gates to baggage claim and ground transportation and vice versa. When the tram arrives at the Baggage Claim/Ground Transportation stop everybody gets off and scurries over to the base of four long escalators that move tired travelers up to the main lobby of the airport above where people are gathered en masse to greet, welcome, and shuttle their travelers home. It is the experience of these long escalators that I want to write about.

Riding the long escalators up from the trams to the terminals is what I imagine dying and going to heaven will be like. For starters, I think that most of the people that die will go to heaven, so the fact that the escalators are always full of people and I am among them is not a statement on self-righteousness but a eternal viewpoint that I happen to hold. But the faces of these heaven-bound masses aren’t joyful as you might expect. They are tired, bedraggled, rough, and worn. There are the occasional exceptions of course. Small children excited about a long escalator ride and certain individuals that hold a hint of anticipation in their eyes are two deviations one might find. But most faces simply reflect the fatigue of journeying. Yet at the top of this tunnel a new energy emerges as the faces of loved ones and acquaintances search the spilling crowds rising up from the depths into the presence of their would-be greeters. Some greeters are anxious with anticipation; others are awkwardly looking as if they are worried they may not recognize a face or friend. Some hold signs, unemotionally looking for a person they have never met before and may never see again.

But every traveler eventually arrives at the top of the escalator of which there is no return (as multiple signs remind all who pass). Every traveler reaches the top of the escalator and spills out into the airport terminals and is suddenly there moved from one sphere of travel to another, bound to the ground again like a wing-clipped bird. But it is like heaven, some wandering this way others that, free to go or stay and greet others arriving from below. We could stay and cheer them on but we don’t—we have things to do… just like it will be in heaven.