Michel and I had a sweet last day in New Orleans on Friday, before John came to pick us up after work to cross the Causeway to go to Covington with him. We walked to City Park with Eric, shared beignets and cafe au lait at Morning Call with Eric, Stew and Louie Boy, and then Michel and Eric enjoyed the park while Stew drove me home to get packed and make my deviled eggs for Saturday night's party. It was quite a weekend, but our worries for Ferguson loomed. There had been no decision or announcement while we were away.
I'd already had to think through what to do on Elizabeth since I'd be gone and Sam was there. As I've mentioned before, it was like preparing to evacuate for a hurricane. I'd brought all my documents, important papers, and check books with me. Sam's carrier was ready and waiting by the front door in case she had to evacuate with her caretakers.
It all began at the airport in Dallas when: our plane had "pressurization" problems; we were delayed an hour; and, the announcement was made on the television at DFW that a verdict had been reached and there would be an official press conference at 5pm. With our delay, it put us arriving at 4:45pm.
As Michel and I got on the plane, I'd teased that the worst case scenario would be that we'd have to walk home. Since Michel and I weren't sitting together and I had the seat to myself, I began to ponder.
First, there was the "safety" presentation. There I sat with all my very important "stuff" which they tell you to leave behind if you have to slide or jump. My passport pouch was packed in the backpack-we are a 3 passport family...my American, British, and Sam's Pet Passport-all were with me. I also had cards, license, and American and French check books. I began to think about my emergency strategies that ranged from "de-planing" to "walking from the Airport home to Ferguson". What would I take with me if I had to leave the backpack behind on the plane or at the airport?
My passport pouch was my savior. I figured that everything that was essential could fit in my passport pouch with the check books stuck in the back open pocket. I latched my New Orleans and St. Louis house keys to my bra (thankfully, I'd left the France keys in New Orleans), with the charger cords for the cell phone and camera tied to the other side. I could wear the passport pouch without a problem, but the cell phone and camera would have to go one in each cup. What a way to grow your boobs! It gave a whole new meaning to the idea of "implants".
I sat there feeling silly, but even so I asked the flight attendant about lockers at the airport. She assured me that American would probably hold our luggage at the airport for us if necessary. She also mentioned that the time of the press conference had been pushed back to 8pm. I was as ready as I was going to be.
Michel and I got off the plane at 4:45. Fortunately, neither of us had any checked bags. We hot footed it over to the taxis and were lucky enough to find a cabbie who would take us to Ferguson. Shortly after, we were turning left from Airport Road on to Florissant Road. The Walgreens was on our right. We passed the Little Ceasar's and the St. Louis Hamburger and Fish Company, and then took a right on Thoroughman to Elizabeth and home to arrive at 5:30.
Later that evening: those corners and those establishments were burning; the airport closed for a period due to gunfire; and, a four mile square area in Ferguson was under seige.
Over-thinking? I think not.
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