My Wheel Chair Experience (1995)

After a lot of thinking, and arrangements with airports and my travel agent in Paradise, it was decided that by virtue of my age, (born in 1906) I would be granted the privilege of wheel-chair service which is recognized by all airports, and provided by them at no extra cost. Both my luggage and I would be safely taken care of all the way back to Canada.

Leaving our home in Yankee Hill at 4.30 a.m. on Monday 8th April 1996, Gordon, Arna and I motored down to Sacramento for the first part of my return to Marsha in Canada. The drive took about 11/2 hours, and they saw me safely aboard the shuttle plane. After being airborne I was asked by the lady purser if it were I who was selected for wheelchair service…......Yes.

As we arrived at Los Angeles, I was met by a uniformed black woman attendant with a wheel-chair. Left to myself, I would most likely have been confused, as Los Angeles is such a vast expanse of airport.

Rolling me around several passages and turns, we got to the luggage carousel, and after a little while my luggage arrived. My attendant just could not handle my large suitcase, my suit-bag, my golf bag and me in a wheel-chair, so she calmly called a red-cap porter, and he took care of the baggage on a separate cart. My lady attendant then decided that as I had so much to carry, I needed an airport van to carry us all to the location of the Canadian airline going to Winnipeg.

We waited about 20 minutes before the van arrived. We got loaded up and took off for the Canadian section, which was good distance away. After we arrived at what was thought to be my terminal, and had all my stuff unloaded, the red cap who was handling my bags noticed that the labels read Canada 3000, which was quite different to the Air Canada terminal at which we now were. 

After a short delay, the bags were all re-packed, and we set off once more to find the terminal for Canada 3000 - a completely different airline. This new airline was easily another half mile away. Fortunately, there was ample time, and we did get there well in advance of the plane's departure.

I was taken in my wheel-chair all the way to the ticket counter along with my bags, and without even checking for excess weight, (because, I suppose, I was helped along) and given my boarding pass.

Incidentally, I was given one of the front seats in the plane, and was the very first to be seated. I am now on my way to Winnipeg, and as if all that treatment was not enough, on my arrival there, I was escorted by another airport personnel who met me with yet another wheel-chair, and took me all the way to customs and immigration where I was quickly and quietly passed, then on to the baggage carousel where my bags were all collected.

At this point I got out of the chair and met my friends, the Olives, who came to collect me and drive me home on our two hour ride back to Brandon. I entertained them to supper at Red Lobster.  

What a return trip to Brandon and my home there.