New insecurity

Behave on plane, or else

America is still “the land of the free and the home of the brave”—but less so than it was not that long ago.

We live in what is turning more and more into a security state. Most jarringly at airports, but in many other settings, we are subjected to surveillance, inspection and other intrusions on what was formerly seen as the precious right to privacy for law-abiding Americans. This creeping Big Brother mindset advances mainly in the name of thwarting terrorism and other base crimes—a necessary and laudable aim insofar as it goes.

But the law-and-order imperative can lead to Twilight Zone encounters like the one that enveloped my wife, Marcia, and me recently at the airport in Charlotte, N.C. The bizarre confrontation found us being summarily evicted at the last minute from our flight to Little Rock under the threat of arrest by police.

The summary ejection strikes me as a case in point for the rather scary proposition that ordinary Americans are expected to behave as docile sheep and follow orders without question— no matter how inexplicable they may seem.

Marcia and I retired six years ago as Arkansas Democrat-Gazette editors on the Features staff. We are both 74 years old. Marcia lives with an implanted cardiac pacemaker to pacify an irregular heartbeat. I am pestered by creaky knees. We are as non-threatening as two senior citizens could be. She has never delivered a blow in anger, and I haven’t since boyhood.

But a flight attendant who looked to be in his 20s ordered us thrown off the plane. The young man insisted that he felt threatened by our behavior in questioning why we’d been forbidden to bring aboard a regulation-size bag that contained monitoring gear for her pacemaker. And that decree proved to be the final word. There was no recourse to appeal as we found ourselves escorted back to the terminal’s departure area by two airline security officers.

The trouble started when we stepped aboard the regional aircraft, each pulling a roll-on piece of luggage that fit the airline’s size regulations. We’d not been asked to gate-check either bag by the employee who computer-swiped our boarding passes just before we headed aboard.

There was no problem with my carry-on. But the flight attendant in question said that Marcia’s had to be checked at the gate. I asked why, since other carry-ons of similar or larger sizes were being allowed on the plane.

We were told that Marcia’s rollon is a particular kind prohibited by the carrier on the company’s smaller aircraft. We both protested, pointing out that the carry-on contained expensive medical equipment needed by Marcia. We asked why the prohibition existed, and were told it had to do with “weight balance.” That seemed peculiar, as did the notion that only a certain kind of otherwise acceptable roll-on would be banned.

Marcia was upset at having to unpack her medical paraphernalia and other fragile items. I had a heated discussion with the flight attendant seeking more information. But he was adamant. So Marcia took out her medical gear near the plane’s doorway and put it into a black plastic bag provided by the other flight attendant. Meanwhile, I went back to our seats. When Marcia joined me in Row 12, I asked for the gate-check receipt. But she hadn’t been given one.

So I got up and asked the male flight attendant, who was in the aisle, for the receipt. He said that was impossible, because her bag had already been loaded. Then he added in a low voice, “Both of you are going to have to leave the plane.”

Not sure I’d heard him correctly, I sat down again. Marcia and I were peacefully strapped in and ready for takeoff a few minutes later when I was summoned to the front of the plane and told we’d have to get off. Why? According to the two airline security staffers who confronted me, it was because the flight attendant thought we were a threat. He wouldn’t feel comfortable with us aboard.

My pleas that we had neither said nor done anything threatening were of no avail. We were told that if we didn’t get off, police would soon show up and put us under arrest.

There was no appeal, so we got off, as three pieces of our luggage went flying away to Little Rock. At the gate, we were rebooked on a flight next morning back to Arkansas. We were told that the airline wouldn’t pay for that night’s hotel at the Charlotte airport “because of the circumstances you caused.”

Watching as our new boarding passes were printed were four police officers, two from the some local force and two from airport security. They were all armed.

The infuriating situation struck us as a ripe example of security concerns run amok, although we did find a glint of humor in the notion of two geezers being a threat to the safety of a plane or its flight attendants. So we were chuckling a bit as well as fuming a lot.

I intend to write a firm, dispassionate letter to the airline telling how a loyal passenger since the 1980s with lifetime elite status was arbitrarily embarrassed and inconvenienced along with his wife at some financial cost to ourselves. I’ll add that some tolerably generous compensation would be in order.

At least we weren’t dragged off the plane by our ankles and physically injured—as happened earlier this year to an unfortunate United Airlines passenger. On our next flight, we’ll try to be as docile as a pair of lambs. Bah, bah, bah.