Man Waits for Son He Has Not Seen in Years at the Airport, Does Not Find Boy among Passengers – Story of the Day

Arlene sent her seven-year-old, Justin, to visit his father, Pierce, in Orlando. Pierce waited for his son in anticipation of all the fun they would have, but his flight had allegedly arrived, and his son was nowhere to be found. That’s when both parents started worrying and realized their shocking mistake.

Arlene and her son, Justin, were at Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport in Virginia. The seven-year-old was about to board a flight to Orland, Florida, where his father, Pierce, awaited him. It was the first time he had traveled as an unaccompanied minor, but luckily, the airline attendant made her feel safe.

“It’s going to be alright. Many minors travel alone around the country, and we should reach your husband in time,” she stated. “He’ll have an escort, and this flight is best because there are no connections. Everything will be perfect.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Arlene nodded, her face filled with emotion. Justin might be growing, but he was still a child. It was hard to let him go, mainly because he hadn’t seen his father in years. After their bitter divorce, Pierce moved from Virginia to Orlando, Florida, and he was busy most of the time.

“How is that possible?” Arlene wailed, almost starting to cry from the worry and exasperation. But something occurred to her at that moment. “Give me a second.”

However, his company had just given him a two-week vacation, and he invited Justin to come to spend time with him. They were going to the theme parks, so that Arlene couldn’t say no. Her son was too excited because he loved everything relating to superheroes and dinosaurs. It was his dream.

But now, she was almost regretting it. “Ok, Justin. You’re going to with this lady and get on the plane. Listen to the adults around. Don’t run off from your escort, and you’ll reach your dad soon. When you land in Orlando, you call me immediately. And then, call me again when you meet your father. Understand?” she requested, kneeling in front of the kid and holding his arms tenderly.

“Yes, Mom!” he replied, smiling and doing a makeshift military salute. This kid had a great sense of humor. He was going to love that trip.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“Ok. Love you. Go on!” she continued and watched as Justin grabbed the attendant’s hand and entered the gate.

She thought about leaving but sat down at an airport café. She was going to wait for the plane to take off. But once she saw that the flight had taken off, she decided to stay and wait for Justin’s call if anything happened. After all, the flight was less than two hours long. The time would pass quickly.

***

Meanwhile, Pierce was waiting for Justin at Orlando International Airport, and he couldn’t wait. He was just as excited as the kid to see all the attractions at the park. It was crazy that he had lived in the city for years but had yet to attend. His work kept him way too busy. This trip was going to be amazing.

He arrived an hour before Justin’s flight and went to the arrival area to wait for him. Finally, the flight landed, and Pierce got closer to the gate so his son could see him immediately. “I should have made a sign,” he muttered to himself as he saw other people waiting for their loved ones. It was too late now. He stayed in the front at all times.

However, many passengers came out, and there was no Justin. According to the unaccompanied minor service, Arlene said that he would have top priority. So, someone should have brought him out already. He didn’t want to call her yet to avoid worrying her. Maybe, Justin had to go to the bathroom, which could explain the delay. He would wait for a while.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

But at one point, no other passengers were coming out of the arrival area. It had been an hour since the plane landed. It shouldn’t take that long. He approached someone from the airline and started asking questions. An attendant came to assist him.

“I’m sorry, sir. There was no one by the name of Justin on that flight. We have no record of an unaccompanied minor serviced hired for it either,” the attendant, shocking Pierce.

“That’s impossible. Please, check again,” he demanded, trying to stay calm, but the sweat on his forehead gave away his fears.

The assistant typed away on her computer, and Pierce’s phone rang. It was Arlene. Hopefully, she knew what was going on. “Hello?”

“Hey, Pierce. Why didn’t you guys call me when Justin arrived? I told him to call me when the plane landed and when you met with him,” Arlene wondered, and he could tell that she was agitated for some reason.

“Arlene, listen. I’m sorry to say this, but Justin has not arrived. An attendant here said that he was not on the flight. I don’t understand what’s going on,” he was forced to reveal, and Arlene yelled in his ear.

“No! That’s crazy! NO! Tell the attendant to check again!” she started yelling. “I’m going to talk to someone on my end too. I’m still at the airport.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“Ok. Listen, calm down. Everything will be alright. There must be a mix-up or something,” he said, trying to calm his ex-wife because he knew she was prone to hysterics.

“I’m not calming down! This is our child, Pierce! Talk to you later!” she screamed and hung up.

“Sir, like I said. There was no Justin on the flight. There’s nothing I can do. Are you sure this is the airline?” the attendant asked.

“Yes! It’s the only flight that arrived at this time from Virginia! My son was on that flight. My ex-wife just confirmed. Please, help me, miss. He’s only seven. Can you call anyone? Should I call the police?” Pierce started asking questions rapidly. The attendant sighed and grabbed her phone.

***

“Justin, where are you? Why didn’t you call me sooner? What’s happening?” Arlene asked desperately on her phone.

“Mom, we have been trying to find Dad for hours, and he’s nowhere. Did you talk to him?” the little boy said through the phone.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“Your father is right at the arrival area. He’s just as worried as I am. Please, give the phone to your escort,” Arlene requested and demanded an explanation from the woman, who only reiterated what Justin said earlier. There was no Pierce anywhere in the airport.

She told them to wait until she called again and dialed her ex’s number. “Pierce, Justin called me and said they’ve been looking for you for a long time. What’s going on?” she said, one hand running through her hair in frustration. She knew Justin was safe, but there was no reason why they couldn’t find each other.

“There’s no way, Arlene. That’s impossible. People here are saying he was not on the flight!” Pierce stated.

“How is that possible?” Arlene wailed, almost starting to cry from the worry and exasperation. But something occurred to her at that moment. “Give me a second.”

She went to her emails where she had sent Pierce the flight details. However, she had written them instead of sending a screenshot, and she suddenly realized her big mistake. “Pierce,” she started, again putting the phone in her ear. “Where are you?”

“What do you mean? I’m at Orlando International Airport. Why?” Pierce questioned, confused by her words. But something clicked in his brain at that moment.

“Justin arrived at Orlando Sanford International Airport!” Arlene yelled, and Pierce took off in a run.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“Jesus! Arlene, why didn’t you say that in your email! Most flights got to MCO!” he scolded her breathlessly as he ran to his car. “I’ll be there in 30 minutes!”

While Pierce was on his way, Arlene called Justin and explained to his escort what had happened. She was relieved too, and they waited for Pierce to arrive.

Less than an hour later, Justin called her. “I’m with Dad, Mom! Thank you for helping me! I’ll send you pics of Disney soon!”

Arlene hung up the phone with her son and breathed deeply as if she couldn’t get enough air in her lungs. Finally, she walked to her car.

What can we learn from this story?

  • You must send all the details of a flight and check several times. These poor parents worried so much because they had not communicated well enough. Luckily, nothing happened, and they resolved the issue.
  • It’s always best to fly with your kids. While an unaccompanied minor service is perfect for busy parents and other situations, Arlene should have traveled with her son if she was going to worry so much. She would have avoided worrying so much.

Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.

If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a woman who adopted a boy she found on the side of the road, and his father showed up years later.

This account is inspired by our reader’s story and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.

My MIL Threw Away All My Food from the Fridge – I Responded on Her Birthday

My MIL Threw Away All My Food from the Fridge – I Responded on Her Birthday

Living under the same roof with my mother-in-law had been challenging from the start. The cultural differences between us had always been a point of contention, but I never expected it to escalate to the point of her disposing of all my cooking supplies.

The food I cook, a vibrant representation of my South Asian heritage, means more to me than just sustenance; it’s a connection to my roots, my family, and my identity. However, the disdain from my mother-in-law towards my culture and the food I love became painfully evident the day I found my pantry emptied.

Kebabs roasting | Source: Pexels

Kebabs roasting | Source: Pexels

Having my mother-in-law move in was never going to be easy. The dynamics in our household shifted dramatically, but I had hoped for a semblance of respect and understanding. My husband, whose palate has embraced the diverse flavors of my cooking, has been caught in the middle of this cultural clash. His efforts to mediate have been commendable, yet the strain is visible, eroding the harmony we once shared.

A rice dish with various furnishings | Source: Pexels

A rice dish with various furnishings | Source: Pexels

The disparaging comments from my mother-in-law weren’t new to me. She had always made her feelings known, criticizing the way I eat with my hands as if it were something to be ashamed of, or the aromatic spices that filled our home, dismissing them as offensive. My husband’s attempts to defend me and educate her on the beauty and diversity of other cultures seemed futile.

Various spices | Source: Pexels

Various spices | Source: Pexels

Living with her constant judgments and disregard for my heritage was testing my patience, but I had chosen to remain silent, attributing her behavior to the stress of the quarantine.

The morning I discovered the empty pantry was a breaking point. The realization that she had taken it upon herself to throw away not just the food but a piece of my identity was shocking. Her justification, claiming it was for the sake of her son’s dietary preferences, was a blatant disregard for me, my culture, and even her son’s choices.

Jards in a pantry | Source: Pexels

Jards in a pantry | Source: Pexels

It was clear she viewed my heritage as inferior, something to be erased and replaced with what she considered “normal American food,” as if my being American wasn’t valid because of my ethnic background.

My frustration was compounded by the challenge of replenishing my supplies. The quarantine had already made grocery shopping a daunting task, and finding specific ingredients for my dishes was nearly impossible due to shortages. Returning home empty-handed to face her audacious questioning about dinner plans was the epitome of insult to injury.

A woman doing grocery shopping | Source: Pexels

A woman doing grocery shopping | Source: Pexels

In that moment, feeling belittled and disrespected in my own home, something shifted within me. I realized that remaining silent and attempting to keep the peace had only emboldened her disrespect. It was clear that direct confrontation or seeking my husband’s intervention again would not suffice. Her actions were a direct challenge to my identity and my place in this family, and I could not let it stand unaddressed.

An angry woman | Source: Pexels

An angry woman | Source: Pexels

As I stood there, facing her smug inquiry about dinner, a calm resolve settled over me. I knew that any response I gave now would only lead to more dismissals of my feelings and heritage. But I wasn’t going to play by her rules anymore. I wasn’t just going to find a way to cook with the limited ingredients I had or try to explain yet again why her actions were hurtful and unacceptable.

No, I had another plan.

A woman cooking | Source: Pexels

A woman cooking | Source: Pexels

With a clear objective in mind, I channeled all my frustration and determination into creating a masterful culinary strategy. My mother-in-law’s upcoming party, intended to be a grand social event, provided the perfect stage for my plan. She had envisioned this party as a showcase of her taste and sophistication, expecting a menu of classic American cuisine to appeal to her guests’ palates. However, I saw an opportunity to subtly introduce the very essence of my heritage that she had so vehemently rejected.

A dinner party | Source: Pexels

A dinner party | Source: Pexels

As I took over the kitchen to prepare the dishes for the party, I decided to infuse each “American” dish with a touch of Indian flair. The burgers were seasoned with garam masala, the potato salad hinted at cumin and coriander, and the apple pie was laced with cardamom. The transformation was subtle, enough to intrigue but not overwhelm, a culinary bridge between my world and hers.

A dish with potato salad | Source: Pexels

A dish with potato salad | Source: Pexels

The party was in full swing, with guests mingling and enjoying the ambiance. As they began to eat, their reactions were unanimous – surprise and delight at the unexpected flavors. One by one, they approached my mother-in-law with compliments, praising the innovative and delicious twist on traditional dishes. Each compliment was a testament to the universal language of good food, transcending cultural barriers and prejudices.

People enjoying a dinner party | Source: Pexels

People enjoying a dinner party | Source: Pexels

Caught off guard by the barrage of praise, my mother-in-law tasted the food with a critical eye, expecting to justify her disdain for Indian cuisine. However, the scene before her, a room full of guests genuinely enjoying the food, forced a change in perspective. The initial instinct to reject the unfamiliar flavors was overshadowed by the realization that her biases were unfounded. The food was not just accepted; it was celebrated.

People enjoying a meal | Source: Pexels

People enjoying a meal | Source: Pexels

This moment of revelation was pivotal for my mother-in-law. Witnessing the joy and satisfaction her friends experienced from the very cuisine she had scorned, she understood the futility of her resistance.

It dawned on her that her aversion to Indian food was merely a manifestation of her deeper biases against my cultural background. The reality that her son’s happiness was intricately linked to embracing his wife’s heritage finally broke through her stubborn prejudice.

People talking and laughing at a table full of food | Source: Pexels

People talking and laughing at a table full of food | Source: Pexels

The aftermath of the party marked a significant shift in our household dynamics. My mother-in-law’s acknowledgment of her misplaced animosity paved the way for a more harmonious coexistence. The tension that once permeated our interactions began to dissipate, replaced by a cautious mutual respect. Although this understanding did not erase all the challenges we faced, it was a crucial step towards reconciliation.

An upset older woman | Source: Pexels

An upset older woman | Source: Pexels

Despite the progress in our relationship, the arrangement of living together remained untenable for all involved. My mother-in-law, perhaps recognizing the need for space to allow our relationship to continue healing, decided to move to her daughter’s place. This decision was met with a collective sigh of relief, a necessary change that promised a fresh start for everyone.

A happy woman | Source: Pexels

A happy woman | Source: Pexels

In the end, the experience taught us all invaluable lessons about acceptance, respect, and the power of food as a unifying force. While the road to fully bridging our cultural divide would be long and fraught with challenges, the party served as a poignant reminder of the potential for change. It underscored the importance of looking beyond our prejudices and embracing the diversity that enriches our lives.

How would you have dealt with a mother-in-law like this? Let us know on Facebook!

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