Driving Miss Livvy With Requested Additions Deletions Revisions and Corrections

The road to Perdition – aka yesterday’s trip to Chicago.

It all started with a change in plan. Granddaughter Livvy, 12, stayed with us for a little extra time while her parents and brother and sisters went to Kentucky to set up housekeeping. She was supposed to stay for a few more days than she did, but she missed her family terribly. She told this to another relative, who said something like, “Honey, we’ll get you a train ticket to go and join your family.”

Knowing what we know about human trafficking and sexual slavery, you can guess what the chances are that this was going to happen. The average age (at least, the best educated guess) of girls taken into slavery: 12.8 years. Livvy’s age: 12.3 years. No way were we going to send her unaccompanied on a train ride that lasted – how long? With how many connections? With how many layovers, for how long?

Ain’t happ’nin’, Cap’n. Not to our Livvy.

So, we called her parents at Fort Knox. They went to work on reserving a seat on a flight. They made the reservation, but when they called back, they asked if we could get Livvy to O’Hare Airport the following day. The flight would be non-stop, Chicago to Louisville, departing at 1:25 PM.

Sure, we said. It’ll be fun, we said.

So, Monday morning we left Davenport at about 7:45 AM – our merry band including Livvy’s Aunt Cheryl, Livvy’s cousin Logan, and me. And merrily we traversed Illinois on I-88, the Illinois Tollway. Well, we were merry until about 10:00.

We stopped for a break at the DeKalb Oasis. I got the kids some refreshment of their choice, then Cheryl and I had the kids sit in a seating area that was within our view while we got something at Starbuck’s. I mean, how busy could a Starbuck’s at an interstate oasis be at 10:00 on a Monday morning in DeKalb when Northern Illinois University is not in session? As it turns out, plenty busy. The Starbucks was training two new employees, and the two experienced employees that were doing the training took their breaks at the same time as each other while we were waiting. The customers in front of us looked very preppy, a bit self-important, and they had a list of things to order that was only slightly shorter than a weekly supply requisition for Fort Knox. And, they made some changes on the fly. Cheryl and I looked at Logan and Livvy, and they looked at us. They got bored, and neither kid handles boredom well. We looked again and they were moving around their table. By the time we got our order it was 10:30, and when we left the kids found a trash receptacle for their long-finished refreshment containers.

It’s 10:40 by the time we pull out of the oasis. If we want to get to O’Hare two hours before departure, we have to be there at 11:25. We have to drive fast. Really fast. Fortunately, from DeKalb all the way to the Tri-State, then all the way to O’Hare, everybody drives fast. Really fast. Speed limits signs exist only as evidence of someone’s sense of humor.

O’Hare is a big place. It seems that every time it has gotten bigger, they accommodate the extra space by adding another circle to the road around the terminals. By now, it’s one thing to enter the complex. Then, you drive in a circle – then another circle. The signs keep telling us that we’re on the right way to get to hourly parking, but the circle goes on. I think we spent as much time circling O’Hare as we did getting from DeKalb to O’Hare. But, we did eventually get to a sign telling us that, to park, turn left. We did, and we were on a parking ramp. Glory be! We parked in the first available spot. As we got on the elevator, we noticed that there were six levels. Each was named after a Chicago sports team – Blackhawks level, Bulls level. We were on Level 3 – White Sox level. Of all the damn things. . .

We got to a ticket counter that said “American Airlines,” and some attendants had no customers. Explanation, provided by one of the attendants: It really wasn’t American Airlines, no matter what the sign said. It was a counter for Japan Air Lines. We went to the counters that we were told to go to. “Are you really American Airlines?” “Yes!” “Thank you!” We provided information about Livvy’s reservation, only to find out that, while she had a reservation, she had no paid ticket. Issue with the credit card. Step away, call Mom and Dad. Becky answered. Fortunately, Becky could not see the expression on my face just then. Becky called American, got the issue taken care of. We got Livvy’s boarding pass. Off to the security check.

What you should know about Livvy. She is whip-smart, and looks it. She has decided (for now – that’s always the case for a 12-year-old) that she wants to be an author when she grows up, and she just might have the ability to do it. She has a playful, feisty aspect, and is quite the showperson and comedienne. And she can make friends quickly. With all of that, it’s easy to forget that she is still a 12-year-old girl with a big, soft heart. In big, busy fast-moving O’Hare, she was a frightened and vulnerable 12-year-old girl. When Livvy is upset or frightened, her characteristic gesture is that she wraps her arms tightly around herself like she’s a little ball. Outside the TSA checkpoint, she wrapped. And started to cry.

Back to the American Airlines counter. It turns out that they can, if ID is provided, generate something that looks like a boarding pass, but isn’t, so if there is a minor travelling alone, a family member can accompany her into the concourse. The agent at American Airlines generated three of them, so Aunt Cheryl, Logan, and Papa (me) went into the concourse with Livvy. All is well.

UNTIL – we stopped for lunch before Livvy’s flight boarded. We went to a place called Cubs Bar and Grille. We placed our order about 12:40. The stated boarding time was 12:55, and the departure time was 1:25, so time was tight. We ordered three burgers and an order of wings. By 1:05 I knew we should get Livvy to the plane, and our food wasn’t there yet. Livvy never got her lunch. I gave her $10 and told her that if they sold food on the flight, she should get some. I walked her right up to the boarding ramp. She was OK then. She was boarding the plane; she wasn’t going to be left at O’Hare. Next stop – getting off the plane in Louisville, being greeted by Daddy.

The rest of us got our food at about 1:20 or so. Logan was in heaven. He has always had a fascination with big mechanical things – planes, trains. He has never been in an airport before, and has never even seen a plane on the ground. Now he’s sitting in a restaurant with big windows and a view of the runway at O’Hare Airport. Lots of planes on the ground, and planes taking off at the rate of about one per minute. Logan’s eyes have only now shrunk back to normal size.

When we left O’Hare, the exit to go from I-190 to the Tri-State is Exit 1D. Sorry, Livvy, that you missed it. Sorry that you missed it too, Kaitlin.

The trip home was uneventful. A flight from Chicago to Louisville is only in the air a little more than an hour, so Livvy was in Louisville and with her Daddy about the time we were passing the Sterling-Rock Falls exits. I hope it was a pleasant trip, and I know that Livvy is overjoyed to be home with family. I miss you already, and love you, and hope you always remember: We’re family too.

CORRECTON 1: I guess it was Chris who took care of the issue with the credit card company.

ADDITION 1: When Livvy got on the ground all she could talk about was the missed wings. Can no one in Kentucky do barbecue?

REVISION 1: I don't know yet if Livvy's been made aware that we took Exit 1D on the way out.

FURTHERMORE: We love you folks.