How the airport experience has changed since 9/11
— -- As the 10th anniversary of the 9/11 tragedy rolls around, many travelers are thinking back to where they were that day and what they were doing as the horrific details began to emerge. Some are recounting their blessings, remembering how close they came to being part of the carnage.
Count me among them.
In the summer of 2001, I was on the road promoting my new guidebook, Stuck at the Airport, which detailed the services and amenities at the many of the nation's airports. (Modern, abbreviated versions of those guides are now online at USATODAY.com.) Airport shops offering massages or manicures were a rare find back then; an airport with a website was even rarer.
I got a call from a woman at the Port Authority of New York & New Jersey, the operator of LaGuardia, JFK and Newark airports. She invited me to visit her office at the World Trade Center and chat with her staff about how airports could be more welcoming. "We can't pay you to come out here from Seattle," she said, "But if you're in town anyway and can come by, we'll take you out for a nice meal."
That seemed like a good excuse to visit family back east. So we picked a date: September 12. My thank-you meal would be at Windows on the World, the restaurant at the top of the North Tower.
Then and now
Since then, as you well know, pretty much everything about the airport experience has changed.
Before 9/11, my airport review ritual went like this: I'd fly into an airport, stash my belongings in a gate-side locker (remember those?), and spend several hours walking from concourse to concourse, terminal to terminal, asking questions, taking pictures and making detailed notes.
On a cheap weekend fare I'd often fly in and out of an airport (or two) on the same day, taking advantage of the long layovers other travelers despise.
I visited more than 100 airports this way, many of them multiple times, and only once - in July, 1999 in Memphis - was I ever stopped by someone from airport security and questioned about what I was doing.
More often than not, it was other travelers who noticed my note-taking and assumed I worked for the airport. They'd stop me to ask for directions and tips on where to shop or find something to eat.
I not only took notes about what was offered inside airports, I made note of what people did in the airports.
Read. Sleep. Chat. Try go get some work done. Eat. Drink. Talk on the telephone. The same as now, but without all the cellphones, laptops and searching around for an electrical outlet.
Back then there were a lot of small children squealing "There's daddy!" as tired-looking businessmen streamed off planes. Plenty of grandmas and grandpas rushing to plant wet kisses on squirmy babies they may have been meeting for the first time. There were waves of teary goodbyes and joyous reunions at the gates. And thinking back now, I realize the last time I saw my father smile at me before his final illness was at an airport, while we chatted as I waited to board a delayed flight.
Now it's all grumbling about the Wi-Fi signal and jostling for a good spot so you can board the plane first and find a spot for your overstuffed carry-on bag. No last-minute kisses, hugs and good wishes as the door to the jet way is about to close. No waves and tears at the window as a plane backs away.
I miss that.
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