Taking travel precautions

I am the family worry wart. When my husband was packing to flay across the Atlantic to London, I said, “Better pack a change of clothes in your carry-on bag. That way if your suitcase gets lost, you will have something clean to wear.” He sighed and repacked.
As he prepared to catch his plane to London, I said, “Show me that you have your ticket, credit card, passport, birth certificate, phone car and traveling money.” The statement was based on a business trip when he left all those things on the head of the bed at home.
He arrived safely in London. His luggage didn’t. But — he was prepared.
Except for the delayed luggage, his week went smoothy. He toured the ink processing plat, asked questioned, spotted potential problem areas and put in a successful week of work. On the weekends, he toured as much of London as he could. With his usual traveling efficiency, he said he managed to see everything of note, if only as h e passed it in a taxi or tour bus.
I left early Sunday afternoon to meet my husband at the airport after his trip to London. I bought a couple audio books to entertain me during the drive to the airport.
I knew it would take the entire drive home for my traveler to download his week of work and weekends of touring London.
By the time I parked at the airport, it was close to his scheduled arrival time. However, as always, every plane was on time, except his. I had 20 minutes to wait.
When the plane finally taxied to the gate, I stood up to catch him emerge.
My husband did not emerge. Not even after all the wheelchair passengers had left. Somehow I realized we had missed each other. I walked to the baggage area. No Hershberger.
I walked back to the ticket agent and asked if it was the right plane.
The guy clicked a few keys and studied the computer screen, “He never got on the plane in London.”
“Did he reschedule another flight?”
More tapping of keys, “No.”
I called home to see if he had left an explanation while I was on my way to pick him up.
He hadn’t.
I took that sinking feeling in my heart and drove all the way home by myself.
At home, I asked, called, questioned and worried, until someone from his company called, “your husband left a message that he will be in New York City at 9:30 tonight.” By that time, I called everyone back I had encompassed with my worry, he had cleared customs and was looking for a phone.
We’ll skip over the first few minutes of that phone conversation.
He had erred in noting his departure time. When he arrived at the airport to check in an hour before he expected to fly home, the plane was long gone.
For the next hour he was busy. He tried, unsuccessfully, to let me know he was delayed. He booked another flight to the United States and then rushed across London to another airport to make that flight on time.
He managed fine without me. Next time, though this worry wart will bug about his departure times.