2001

Bette’s dinner with potential East Coast patrons for the CAC ran very very late.  The husband and wife were aficionados of vintage port and had insisted that Bette share the 1963 Taylor they had opened for the occasion. While Bette had an abstract appreciation of the rich fortified wine, her appreciation was more than sated with one small glass.  Unfortunately, the potential patrons did not accept her protestations, and Bette consumed three small glasses.  The port, together with the specially selected wines that had been served with each course of their very long meal, had combined to give Bette a very unpleasant night.  She tossed and turned, popping antacids and cursing the fundraising part of her job.

Bette, afraid she would not wake up in time for her 6:30 flight home, set the alarms on her cell phone and Blackberry and placed three wakeup calls with the hotel concierge.  She had packed her bag before she climbed into bed, so she would have very little to do in the morning, when she knew that, even under the best of circumstances, she would be bleary eyed and grumpy. And these were not the best of circumstances.

As she had predicted about herself, in the early morning a bleary eyed and grumpy Bette Porter sat in the backseat of a Town Car on its way to JFK Airport.  She sipped from a bottle of water, hoping it would ease the queasy stomach that the antacids had not yet settled.  Bette had been too unfocused to check the news that morning and she had not even noticed the message light blinking on the hotel phone.  She had done automatic checkout from the hotel TV, so there had been no opportunity for the clerks at the front desk to tell her that she had messages.  The driver saw the woman engrossed in her cell phone and Blackberry and made no attempt at conversation. And, after all, the weather in New York City was quite good and had been throughout her visit.

Bette felt it the second she opened the doors to the American Airlines terminal. It slid along the ceiling of the confined space and hit her in the face like a slap.  Everywhere, there were people standing looking defeated or angry.  Infants wailed, toddlers whined, and pre-schoolers tried to run around in whatever space was available, climbing over the luggage that was strewn everywhere.  In various corners, Bette spotted people sleeping, using their jackets or backpacks as pillows,