Part I
My story began long before my airplane touched down in Syracuse, NY. It
began on a warm summer day in June of 2001. That is the when I last saw my
missing son, Jason. So many events have transpired since then. So many
changes, so many heartaches, but yet so many joys and experienced blessings.
I first met Frank Williams, chairman of The Ride for
Missing Children, at the 2004 New York State Missing Person's Day in Albany,
NY. NYS Missing Person's Day is an annual event sponsored by Doug and Mary
Lyall's organization, The Center for Hope. Frank was the Keynote Speaker that
year, and he mentioned that he did the Ride for Missing Children, which
"raises posters", as he put it, for the Mohawk Valley National
Center for Missing and Exploited Children (NCMEC) branch office. This branch
office's primary function is the production and dissemination of posters for
missing children. The fundraiser ride is the annual effort to continue their
great success in the location of children through these posters. Cyclists
raise money to go on the 100 mile ride through this beautiful central New
York country. The NCMEC mission is: To make our children safer---one child at
a time. Those words were on the back of our jerseys and repeated throughout
the day.
After Frank spoke at the 2004 Missing Person's Day, I chatted with him and
told him that I also biked. He invited me to come to the 2004 ride, but it
was short notice for me, so I declined. He then asked me to come in May 2005
as an honorary rider, and I gladly accepted. In 2004, Kate Alcott rode in
honor of Jason, as I could not attend. I would end up meeting Kate in 2005,
and she was partnered with me as she is an experienced rider. Kate also
arranged to get me a suitable loaner bike similar to mine at home. I looked
forward to finally meeting her.
The day before the ride, I boarded my flight on the way to Syracuse. It was
a smaller airplane, so there was only one flight attendant. I noticed her
right away because she was beaming, and there seemed to be no particular
reason. I sensed she was a person who found joy in her work, her life, and in
people and that it was truly genuine. I observed her assisting the passengers
and going well above and beyond the call of duty. I had never seen a flight
attendant like her. She gave advice to a couple traveling with a young child,
and she seemed to have a sixth sense for who might want a pillow or a
blanket. She took special care of the older passengers, but yet did not
neglect any of the rest of us.
At some point during the flight, a thought popped into my head that I could
not get rid of no matter how hard I tried to dismiss it. I felt compelled to
get all of the passengers involved in a tribute to the flight attendant. I
found myself taking out a piece of paper and penning this note: "This
flight attendant does such a wonderful job. Wouldn't it be neat to recognize
her in an unusual way? Just think of how it would make her feel. Even
if you are not a fun-loving person, try to think of it as an experiment in
human behavior. Please pass this note along quickly"
I went on to explain: "When the plane comes to a stop and she stands
up, start clapping. Point at her and smile so that she knows we are clapping
for her. Don't miss this opportunity to do this for someone else. Why not?
Just do it!!"
I folded up the piece of paper and gave it to the flight attendant and
asked her to give it to the woman in row one. I knew she would not look at it
and would give it to the woman, thinking that I knew her. She did, and I
watched to see what would happen. I waited and waited and did not see the
note coming my way. I thought it awful that this attempt failed at the very
first person! I was about to give up when I saw the note moving back and
forth coming down the aisle. When it came to me, I read it as if I did not
know what was on it. I showed it to my seatmate. He smiled and started
talking to me. He had not uttered one word before that point. I wondered if
he saw me writing it, or if something else sparked a desire to talk. I saw
one man shake his head about the note as it went by, but I saw more people
smiling, and those smiles grew broader as we came closer to landing. There
seemed to be an air of anticipation on the plane. I could hear the young
girls behind me asking each other if it was going to happen.
The plane touched down and taxied to the gate. The flight attendant stood
up, and it seemed as if time stood still. I was determined that I was not
going to start the clapping. I waited and did not hear anything other than
the drone of the engines. I groaned inwardly. Suddenly, a chorus of clapping
started somewhere in the back and moved forward like a wave. The flight attendant
appeared rather surprised, and smiled that bright smile of hers. She then
went right back to work. As the passengers disembarked, there was a light
feeling in the air. I grinned as I went by her and then walked off into the
terminal.
You might wonder what this has to do with the story, just as I wondered
what possessed me to do something like that. I discovered the meaning of it
all during the next 24 hours.
