A nightmare of indignities
One man’s typical flight experience shows what air travel is like for passengers who must use wheelchairs
Charles Brown has always loved flying. He loves the steady roar of the engine beneath him as the plane rises high above a shrinking ground, turning houses into small blocks of color and cars into floating specks of light below.
Brown’s passion evolved from building model airplanes as a child to training in aviation ordnance when he joined the U.S. Marine Corps in 1985. His military career was cut short a year later, when he hit his head diving into a swimming pool and injured his spinal cord, resulting in incomplete paralysis of his arms and legs.
He now uses a wheelchair and, because of his disability, finds flying to be a risk.
“When I fly nowadays, it literally is a moment of, ‘OK, what do I have to do to get through this day without getting injured more?’ ” Brown said.
On his first flight after his injury, Brown got a concussion during the landing. He could not stay upright, and his head slammed into the seat in front of him. On another flight a few years ago, two airline employees dropped him — it was a hard fall — while lifting him into a special aisle wheelchair. He shattered his tailbone and spent four months in the hospital afterward, battling a life-threatening infection.
There is also the worry of what will happen to his $41,000 wheelchair when it is loaded and unloaded from the plane. The wheelchair, custom designed to fit his body, prevents pressure sores. Without it, he could risk another potentially life-threatening infection.
It is not uncommon for airlines to lose or damage wheelchairs. In 2021, at least 7,239 wheelchairs or scooters were lost, damaged, delayed or stolen on the country’s largest airlines, according to the Air Travel Consumer Report. That is about 20 per day.
Because of these risks, many people who use wheelchairs say flying can be a nightmare.
Even on a flight that goes smoothly, Brown endures multiple indignities from the moment he arrives at the airport to the moment he leaves, he said, largely because of a lack of accessibility for people with disabilities.
Much of this could be avoided, he and other advocates argue, if airplanes and airports were designed to accommodate passengers who use wheelchairs. And while the Department of Transportation recently published a bill of rights for passengers with disabilities, the initiative was a summary of existing laws and did not expand the legal obligations of the airlines.
To get a firsthand glimpse of the difficulties faced by passengers who use wheelchairs, The New York Times documented Brown’s experience on two recent American Airlines flights from West Palm Beach, Florida, to San Antonio, with a connection in Charlotte, North Carolina. Here’s a step-bystep diary of what we saw.
Check-in, security
Brown arrives and meets his travel companion outside Palm Beach International Airport at 7:25 a.m., three hours before his first flight of the day. (He usually arrives early, he said, because every step of the process takes longer for him.) As he makes his way inside, he stops to fist-bump the airport employees who bring his luggage to the check-in counter. Brown, president of the Paralyzed Veterans of America, flies frequently for his job and has befriended several airport employees who are intimately familiar with his needs.
Most check-in counters tower above Brown, who must lean across the luggage scale to tell an employee that his custom wheelchair weighs 416 pounds —
information that he already filled out on a form when he booked his ticket last week. Brown also checks a shower wheelchair, a medical bag and a second bag of luggage.
Brown gets personally screened by a Transportation Security Administration agent every time he flies.
Roughly 40 minutes after Brown arrived at the airport, he reaches his gate. He drinks some water and takes his medication.
Normally, Brown says, he would not drink water before a flight, because many airplane bathrooms are inaccessible to him. Planes with two aisles are required by the U.S. Department of Transportation to have at least one accessible bathroom on board, but planes with only one aisle — which have been used more frequently for long-haul flights in recent years — are not.
Today is an exception to Brown’s no-water rule, though, because he recently had a kidney stone. Since he cannot use the bathroom on the plane, he is using a Foley catheter — which can increase his risk of getting hurt when he is carried and transferred by employees.
Boarding
More passengers arrive at the gate, some of them consuming snacks or packaged breakfasts. Brown refrains from eating. He cannot risk needing to use a bathroom on the flight. He has not eaten anything since 1 p.m. yesterday.
Forgoing food and water for hours before a flight is a common practice among travelers who use wheelchairs and cannot access the bathroom.
When it is time to board, Brown must again tell airline crew members how heavy his chair is and how many people he needs to lift
him onto an aisle chair — a special, small wheelchair that can fit into an airplane’s narrow aisles.
He repeatedly asks one crew member to put his wheelchair’s headrest into his suitcase and goes over instructions on how to fold up and stow his wheelchair safely. The crew member does not seem to understand him, and eventually someone else steps in to help.
Brown enters the jet bridge before any other passengers. This gives him privacy during his transfer onto the plane — the part of traveling he worries about most. One drop or slip could mean serious injury.
He tucks in his Foley catheter and raises his arms in anticipation. On the count of three, one airport employee grips his chest and the other lifts under his thighs to smoothly shift him into an aisle chair. In midair, Brown’s legs begin to spasm.
Brown is wheeled, backward, 13 rows to his seat, then positions himself for another transfer. His arms and legs dangle for a moment — during which he watches an armrest graze under his thighs and braces himself for any possible outcome — before he is safely put down again on a special cushion he uses to help prevent pressure sores when he flies.
In the air
During the two-hour flight, Brown jerks with movement every minute or two. His legs splay outward, spilling his right knee into the aisle and causing his hips to hurt. (He always gets assigned a seat by the aisle, not the window, because it is easier for crew to lift him into those seats.) In his custom wheelchair, there are pads to hold his legs in place. On the airplane, the
best substitute he has are his hands, which he constantly uses to readjust his legs and push them inward. By the end of the flight, he rates the pain level in his hips as a 2 or 3 out of 10, comparing it with a nagging headache.
Just before landing, Brown rams his right arm against the seat in front of him and presses with effort as the plane lands with a thud. He is trying to stop his head from lurching forward into the hard plastic seat.
As other passengers leave the plane, suitcases and bags of all sizes and colors roll past Brown, some occasionally hitting his knee. He and his travel companion are the last to deplane. They are waiting for crew to bring his custom chair to the jet bridge — something that airlines are required to do if passengers requested it. Brown does not want to get into an aisle chair until he knows his custom wheelchair is ready for him at the jet bridge. If he spends more than 20 minutes in an aisle chair, he says, he is likely to get pressure sores.
Exiting the plane
Cleaning crews have already come through. Airline crew repeatedly ask Brown if he will get off the plane, even though his chair is not ready. The staff are under pressure to board the plane for the next flight. He relents, though his custom chair still is not ready.
The two gentlemen lifting Brown out of his airline seat seem hesitant, as if afraid to hurt him. He tries to tell them to hold onto him tightly and reflectively takes a defensive position, tucking his shoulders and hands inward to protect himself.
The workers do not quite lift him high enough, causing him to bump the raised armrest and be partially
dragged into the aisle chair, landing with a dull thump. The straps on the chair to hold his feet in place do not seem to be working properly, so a crew member refastens them three times.
Brown is pushed out of the jet bridge in front of a crowd of passengers waiting to board the plane for the next flight, which is now boarding later than expected. Some look exasperated, others tired. Many are staring at him. As he wheels past, one stranger mutters, “Chaos.”
About 10 minutes later, employees bring Brown’s custom chair to the gate and start transferring him before a crowd of passengers.
“It’s frustrating,” he says. “I’m not going to say ‘embarrassing’ anymore because I’m just over that. But it is kind of embarrassing, especially if your pants are hanging off your bottom.” He has had his pants fall down during public transfers before.
This time the men switch places, with the stronger man lifting Brown’s chest. They complete a better transfer. An airline worker at the check-in counter notices the commotion and comes over to apologize to Brown about the lack of privacy.
Layover
Brown has a two-hour layover in Charlotte and is supposed to board his 2:45 p.m. flight to San Antonio, which is scheduled to land at 4:42 p.m. As he waits, his stomach is starting to get “shaky,” he says.
Just before the flight is supposed to board, the gate agent announces that there is a delay. The flight will now depart at 4:30 p.m. and land at 6:30 p.m. But, with the time it takes to deplane and get to his hotel, Brown does not think he can make it until after 8 p.m. to eat again.
At 2:16 p.m., he finally bites into a Snickers bar. It has been 25 hours since his last meal.
As the flight prepares to board, airline crew wheel three elderly women on regular airport wheelchairs — the type of chair intended for use by those who cannot walk long distances — down the jet bridge to board the plane first. Then, regular passengers start to crowd around the check-in gate. A family with a baby stroller checks in and starts walking to the jet bridge. Amid the commotion, Brown seems to have been forgotten entirely.
Brown starts to get upset with the check-in agents. The Department of Transportation stipulates that disabled passengers who
need additional time or assistance to board the airplane must be allowed to board first. Further guidance says that, if possible, airline crews should avoid transferring someone from an aisle seat to a plane seat in front of other people.
Soon after he complains, Brown is quickly wheeled down the jet bridge, shaking his head in frustration at a supervisor who insists she did nothing wrong.
In preparation for his second flight, two men strongly and swiftly transfer him to his aisle chair and then to his seat in a blur of motions that leaves Brown breathing heavily afterward.
Brown’s body becomes a hurdle of sorts for another passenger who squeezes past him and steps over his legs to get to the window seat. (His travel companion was seated between them.) Brown looks uncomfortable, but, unable to move out of the way, he is stuck.
He tries to nap on the second flight but has to rouse himself from his sleep to shove his legs back into a straight position and stop his knees from poking out.
The second landing is smoother, but Brown’s arm is once again outstretched against the seat in front of him as he tries to hold himself steady; there is a shake of exhaustion in his elbow now.
People start deplaning at 6:50 p.m., and one person thanks Brown for his service on the way out. Soon after the plane empties, a crew in bright yellow vests starts to clean up around Brown.
At 7:10 p.m., his custom chair is ready for him in the jet bridge. Brown has another smooth transfer onto the aisle chair, but he is placed down a little crooked, so an airline crew member has to hold his knees to make sure they do not bump every seat on the way out.
Amy Lawrence, a spokeswoman for American Airlines, said in an email that the company is focused on ensuring a positive experience for those with disabilities.
In response to complaints of negative incidents while flying, she wrote: “In recent years, we’ve placed a particular focus on giving our team members the tools and resources they need to properly handle and track customers’ mobility aids, and we’ve seen improvement in handling as a result.”
One such effort, she said, was the introduction of wheelchair-specific bag tags on all flights. The tags can improve the tracking of mobility devices and make it more clear what the features of each device are.