We land in Detroit and disembark. We, along with nearly every other passenger on the flight, pay our respects to the flight crew as we depart. We’re fairly far back in the plane but when we get out of the gate everyone, and I mean everyone, is milling around the gate. It is an incredible experience. I have chills and misty eyes right now recalling it. We have an impromptu memorial service and wake right there. There is hushed conversation amongst all of us. It is a shared experience that will remain forever for each of us. Many comments are made but nearly all end in “makes you think about what’s important.”
We head for luggage pick up and customs and immigration. Everyone in front of us peels off for luggage so Sweetie Pie and I end up being the first folks to the immigration line. The huge bullpen at Detroit is empty. “Did you have to wait for us?” we ask the first official waiting to guide us through. “Yes, we would have been gone three hours ago normally.” “We were rerouted, we had to land in Palm Beach, someone died,” I say expecting a little bit of a reaction. “Yeah, we heard,” says the immigration officer vey matter of factly. I’m more than a little surprised. “Does that happen often?” I ask. “You’d be surprised,” says the immigration officer, stating the obvious.
“It happens all the time.”
