This column originally appeared in the Chicago Tribune January 29, 2019
Attention all you whiny, disgruntled air passengers who fire up your Twitter feeds to let the airline, and the entire Internet, know you didn’t get your first-class upgrade, your aisle seat, or your specialty meal:
Please shut up.
Nobody wants to hear about the two-hour delay to Austin, the de-icing truck malfunction in Milwaukee or the passenger with nonexistent hygiene aboard your flight to San Francisco that left you so traumatized, you DEMAND a refund. Or at least 50,000 frequent airline points that can be redeemed during blackout periods.
For none of you have met Kevin Rohlwing.
Rohlwing, a senior vice president of training for the Tire Industry Association, could stop your “flight from hell” story mid-moan simply by holding up his hand at any point and asking, “Did TWO people die on your flight?”
For that is exactly what occurred aboard Rohlwing’s recent Southwest Airlines flight from Baltimore to Las Vegas.
Now, death is never funny, and this humor columnist doesn’t mean to make light of it. Many of us, myself included, have been aboard flights where a medical situation necessitated an emergency landing or a frantic “Is there a doctor aboard?” plea over the plane’s intercom. A passenger succumbing midair is indeed tragic.
But two? The more I listened to Rohlwing’s story, the more it sounded like a darkly comedic Netflix pitch:
“OK, here’s the plot: Each week, carefree passengers board a flight to Vegas. But two of them never make it. The audience votes online with their picks. Think The Love Boat on a plane. But without the happy ending!”
“We LOVE it. Order 40 episodes!”
Rohlwing recounted his story once he finally landed in Vegas, eight hours behind schedule, and we met at an awards ceremony rehearsal for the Tire Industry Association. He politely waited for me to finish droning on about my 90-minute delay out of Chicago before beginning his tale of woe. The normal flight turned anything but, he said, when an elderly woman went into cardiac arrest. The flight also contained a group of Korean War veterans traveling with their own paramedic. The medic, and the flight crew, sprang into action as the plane rapidly descended toward the nearest airport, in Fort Collins, Colo.
Once on the ground, the woman was removed by Fort Collins paramedics. Sadly, Rohlwing said, she passed before being taken to a hospital. As the plane refueled and pilots filed a second flight plan, crew members began expressing concern about the whereabouts of another passenger, who was last seen entering the plane’s lavatory. A flight attendant eventually opened the door, only to find the passenger deceased on the floor.
The next time you roll your eyes when you hear, “Maintenance is aboard,” remember, Rohlwing’s flight included two visits from the coroner.
Rohlwing credited the pilot for doing his best to calm exasperated passengers.
“He commented that, in his 20-plus years of flying, he had never had a passenger pass away on a flight, let alone two,” Rohlwing said.
Real comforting.
Following the awards program, Rohlwing and a colleague returned to Baltimore. At baggage claim, they agreed the flight home was the BEST flight ever.
“No one died,” Rohlwing said.
This week I will be flying from Chicago to San Antonio. The Chicago forecast calls for subzero temperatures, which typically precede flight cancellations. My Southwest boarding pass has a high number, meaning a middle seat might be my only option. Hopefully our government remains open, so the TSA employees who screen me will earn paychecks for their diligence.
I will say nothing. My social media feeds will stay silent.
Instead, I will remind myself how lucky I am to wake up every morning.
