I always keep my eyes open when I am in the airport. You just never know when you might run into someone you know while you are making that flight connection! That is the theory, at least. Right? You always hear those great stories from other people. But with all my traveling in the past years it never actually happened. I may run into someone I know in the Norfolk airport but that isn’t exactly exotic. Shoot. We saw Jeny when we left town. I don’t even count that. Isn’t she always flying off somewhere these days??
So would you know when it actually happened to me, it pretty much hit me upside the head when I wasn’t paying any attention at all? Our flight landed at O’Hare – my personal opinion is that O’Hare is the WORST airport EVER to land at internationally. My eye twitches just thinking of it. Just ask me about my harrowing story returning from Singapore where I had to CLIMB the baggage conveyor to snatch my bag, sail through customs, catch the tram and cheat my way to the front of the security line and then beg and plead my way through, and then run flailing with bag, rolling bag, and computer still in hand to my gate. Could the international terminal be ANY FURTHER AWAY???????? Could the baggage return have been any more of a mess? I made that flight with about one minute to spare but after traveling that far there was NO WAY I was going to miss my flight to MN. But I digress. Anyhow, we were turning that corner from security in Terminal One to go look for our gate amidst a heinously LOOOOONG layover when I hear this familiar voice speaking to us. I look over and it is none other than Daniel. I mean. What are the chances???? Sure enough he and his wife, Maria and baby son were also waiting for their delayed flight. How wonderful that we not only got to run into them, but that we all had a chance to spend some relaxing time chatting.
I must say a word about the additional bizarreness of it all. You have to know how we met Daniel to really see how crazy this is. We were going on our second holiday season in Meridian, MS back in 1998. Yes, you read it right. Mississippi. Bet you didn’t even know the Navy had a base in land-locked Meridian. Due to mechanical problems with the jet our time in Meridian was extended WAY longer than we had ever expected during this second and third phase of Ian’s flight school. Life was far from peachy. Always in the state of thinking we may move, I found myself taking crappy jobs as our time in Meridian was supposed to be limited– you know, video store, gas station, assorted fun NEX odd jobs just to make some cash and hope the time would pass faster. It was hard to commit passed next week. Anyhow, by this time we were irritable and crusty. Most people are in Meridian for ONE year and we were there for almost two. The holiday party was located on base during one of my shifts at work. Ian went with a couple of student friends. He ran into this guy – who was clearly NOT in the Navy (the facial hair was the first big clue) and he started chatting with him. His name was Daniel. It turns out Daniel was a biology student doing an internship with the Seabees. He grew up in St. Louis Park – one suburb away from my Minnetonka, graduated the same year as me and had a best friend who had been in school with me since the 7th grade (quite ironically, one of those junior high crushes that sparked the name of this blog. shhhh. don’t tell). In addition, Daniel went to the University of Wisconsin-Madison for his undergraduate work. He frequented this little bar on State Street that was famous for the real tree right in the middle of it, called Paul’s Club. Ok, so Ian and I were bartenders at this place and actually had our wedding reception there. If I have ever chatted with you about being the world’s WORST cocktail waitress? that is the job I am referring to. Chances are that we had served Daniel a cocktail or two at some point in time and never even ‘met’. Or chances are Ian served the drink and I was sitting and pouting about my sucky job and chatting with the door checker while I was supposed to be serving drinks and picking up glassware for the bartenders who made way more money than I did. Either way, crazy coincidence.
Anyhow, Daniel quickly became our favorite friend in Meridian as he totally understood our sense of humor and vice versa. We felt sorry for the Jewish boy living on a base in Mississippi. He felt sorry for the couple that was living amongst some of the strangest people around. He was our ray of grounded normalcy in a sea of twisted oddity. We may have gone completely insane without his sound presence. Together we cooked many a meal (what else do you do in Meridian??), he taught us to make some awesome salad dressing, became Roger’s dog whisperer, was an integral part of team BTO, and almost made it to Vicksburg with us…. Oh well. We had the T shirt. That was back when Mongo was our vehicle of choice even with its rusted out chaff holes. Oh, the memories. We were crushed when it was time for him to move. Luckily we left only a month and a half later.
All these years have passed and we have always planned to get together with Daniel again. But we moved to Virginia and then California and then back to Virginia. He moved to Vermont. It is not so easy to hook up again. We have kept in distant touch over the years. I will never forget getting a letter that was written on an old typewriter in the mail. Who – other than Daniel – would do that??? But I really never imaged that we would run into each other again at O’Hare. While I was jet-lagged and totally out of it. In fact, it is so hazy, if I didn’t have the photos to prove it I may wonder if it actually happened????
Daniel and Maria – it was soooo wonderful to see you and that adorable baby boy. 
Give baby S a big smooch from me.
