The Nightmare Before Christmas

I have lived 23 years on this earth. And I can confidently say without reservation that last night was absolutely the worst night of my life. I am not being dramatic. It really was the worst, scariest night of my entire life.

Let me tell you the condensed version.

Our flight home for Christmas had layovers in Washington DC and Chicago. Last night at 8:00 pm our flight from New York to DC was cancelled. Rather than reschedule for a later day, we made a quick decision to take the Chinatown bus overnight to DC and catch our second flight out of DC the next morning. We finished packing, headed for Chinatown and hopped on the 11:00 pm bus, set to arrive in DC at 3:15 am. We would have plenty of time to take a train to the airport in DC and make our 9:45 am flight to Chicago.

We were slightly nervous. What if we got there and our flight was cancelled?

We slept on the bus. There was a rest stop outside Philly, some people got off to use the bathroom and came back. Later, at 2:30 am, the bus stopped again at a truck stop outside Baltimore. We got off to use the bathroom quickly. But when we came out of the gas station, our bus was gone. It turned out this was not a rest-stop, it was a drop-off point. Our bus driver didn't announce it (he only really spoke Chinese anyway). He had left us at a truck stop somewhere outside Baltimore. Waves of shock, disbelief, and then intense anxiety washed over us.

So there we are, in the middle of nowhere, at 2:30 am. The bus has all our luggage on it, including our camera and Klane's computer (two of our most expensive possessions), our keys, our clothes, Christmas gifts, everything. It's freezing cold outside, and we've got nothing but our coats and our iPhones. I started praying. (I prayed a lot last night.)

After a moment of panic, we call the bus company. No one speaks English well enough to communicate with us. We call a cab to take us to DC, an hour drive away. 45 minutes later the cab finally comes, and once on the road we miraculously make phone contact with the bus station in DC. With a massive language barrier, we attempt to explain our situation and describe our bags to the Chinese lady on the other end. She says she will look for our bags and try to get them off the bus before it goes on to Virginia. But she says she won't wait for us to get there and pick them up because it's 3:30 am and they're closing right after the bus comes through. She tells us we can't get the bags till the station opens at 10:00 am. (Our flight is at 9:45.)

One ridiculously long and expensive cab ride later, involving the driver getting turned around a couple times, we arrive at the bus station in Chinatown DC. Of course the place is closed. It's 4:30 am, and it's super cold outside. We decide we'll have to wait for the station to open in the morning so we can try to pick up our bags, which we don't even know are there for sure, then try to get to the airport in time. We go into a hotel across the street and ask if we can sit in their lobby for two hours, and they turn us away into the cold night. Another hotel around the corner allows us to sit in their lobby to wait.

The hotel lobby is full of Christmas decorations, and "I'll Be Home for Christmas" starts playing on the radio. This is the point where reality sets in and I start sobbing uncontrollably. I realize that this is the scariest, worst situation I've ever found myself in. Klane was my rock, telling me everything would work out (even though he was freaking out too, on the inside). After a mini breakdown and a lot of agonizing over what had happened and worrying about what was going to happen, we settle in to wait for three hours. At this point we have no idea what's going to happen. If our bags aren't at the station when it opens, we can't fly out, but we won't have keys to our NYC apartment either. And what if the station opens too late and we miss our flight? And what if our bags are lost forever, with thousands of dollars worth of stuff in them?

I have never felt such an awful feeling. Helpless and anxious and afraid and confused and regretful, all at the same time.

sleeping in the lobby

Three miserable hours later, we head back to the bus station at 7:30 am, hoping the lady on the phone was wrong when she said it opened at 10.

It's open! They have our bags! But upon further inquiry, we discover that our largest piece of luggage, containing all our clothes, did not make it off the bus and was taken on to Virginia. There's nothing we can do and we've got to catch our flight, so we hop another cab to the airport. We catch a glimpse of the monuments in the early morning light.

Finally things start going our way at this point. The night is over. We have our most valuable stuff with us, and we can buy new clothes when we get to Utah. The cabbie is efficient and gets us to the airport with an hour before our flight. We try not to think about all the money and time and agony we've gone through to get here.

We could not believe we made it in time. After all we'd been through over the last 10 hours, we couldn't believe we were actually at the airport, with (most of) our bags, and headed to our flight.

We arrived at the gate just as the flight began boarding. Thankfully no delays. There was one little hiccup when our boarding passes were rejected at the gate because since our connecting flight to get us to DC was cancelled, they assumed we wouldn't be there to get on the second flight. But this ended up being a good thing, and they put us back on the flight, and in an exit row!


When we arrived in Chicago we were still in disbelief that we had actually made it. As you can see, we were so happy! A TSA worker offered to take our picture when he saw me taking one of Klane.

We finally made it to the gate, and our flight out of Chicago was one of the last to make it out of the airport before the massive storms hit the city, canceling most of the flights for the rest of the day. Whew!

This is the first glimpse of Utah soil I caught through the clouds on our approach for landing. I cried tears of joy when the mountains came into view. Another prayer (this time of thanks, not desperation) was offered. I still couldn't believe we made it!

So, after a series of unfortunate events and the scariest, worst night of my entire life, we ended up having a few miracles and making it home for Christmas. I still cannot believe everything that happened to us. I think it was a Christmas miracle that we made it here. Right now I am grateful for prayer and for iPhones. We absolutely would not have made it without both of those.

And if that is not a miracle, check this out: we followed up with the bus station in DC tonight, and they say our bag came back on the bus later in the day. Supposedly they have it there! Some very kind and generous friends in DC are picking it up in the morning and holding onto it for us until we can make a trip down to pick up all our favorite clothes. Christmas Miracles!