Summary of Events
By: Nadine Hays
I am a 57-year old grandmother of 5, a member and temple recommend holder of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, the CFO for The Media Cafe, and the primary care-giver for my 93-year old mother, Eleanor, who was traveling with me and a friend (Mele) to Nashville for the wedding of my nephew and my mom’s grandson.
We arrived at Burbank airport at approximately 11:45 a.m. on Thursday, April 16, 2009. Our plane, American Airlines Flight 328 was scheduled to depart for Dallas, Texas at 1:15 p.m. We were to have a layover in Dallas and were scheduled to depart Dallas at 8:15 p.m. on American Airlines Flight 1626 and were to arrive in Nashville, TN at approximately 10 p.m.
While I was busy checking the baggage at the curb I sent my mom, in her wheelchair, and Mele into the terminal as my mom needed to use the restroom. I was detained about 10 minutes as one of my bags was overweight and I needed to distribute the extra weight in one of the other bags. When I finally made cell phone contact with Mele and located her in the terminal I could tell she was a little frustrated. My mom had used the restroom the first time and as soon as they left the facility she insisted that she needed to use it again; Mele accommodated her wish (with no results, as she had just finished using it). When I met up with them my mom once again said, “I need to use the restroom and Mele won’t take me.” I told my mom that we needed to get onto the plane, as now it was getting late and we still needed to go through the various security checks.
We reached the first security check point where they looked at our ID and boarding passes. Once again my mom asked the security official “Is there a restroom nearby? I need to use it and they (Mele and myself) won’t let me go.” I told the official that she had already used the restroom and that we needed to get through the line to board.
We then began going through the final security check, which was located at the gate doors leading out to the plane. At Burbank airport it is necessary for one to exit the building and board the plane from the outside. One goes from security to the boarding gate; there are no concessions available after security to buy any type of food, water, or beverage.
Mele and I began by taking off our shoes and putting them in a bin. I then put my computer in a bin and we both tossed our jackets on top of it. The agent said, “The computer needs to go through in a bin by itself.” We immediately removed the jackets and put them in another bin. The agent made the statement, “You don’t fly very much, do you?” We agreed with him and moved on.
Mele removed my mom’s shoes and she put on a bit of a fuss. “Don’t take off my shoes, my feet get cold.” Mele explained to her that she would get them right back.
After retrieving our jackets, purses, and shoes we put our shoes back on. My mom needed to go through special screening as she was sitting in her wheel chair. I could see the confused and scared look on her face as a woman official tried to “feel her”. I went over to explain to her what they needed to do and to not worry. I reached over to touch and console her. As I did so, the agent standing next to her commanded to me “Don’t touch her!” I stood back, appalled.
I then went back to the security line, as the last item I needed to get was the ice chest with special food and drink for my mom. Experience has taught us that we need to keep her hydrated (dehydration will cause her to end up in the hospital) and that she needs to eat food. My mom is very picky on what she will eat and lack of food can lead to severe diarrhea which is a difficult thing to deal with at home let alone to try to deal with it on a plane and its small restroom. She needs to have someone else clean her up and I don’t even know if that would be possible on a plane.
The female agent started removing items from the ice chest saying “You can’t take this, you can’t take this.” The result was that I could not take anything in the ice chest (I had packed milk to make her specially formulated protein drink, grapes, sliced cheese, salami, cottage cheese and applesauce). I told her that the food was for my 93-year old mother (I pointed to her) and that she had special needs; this did not change her mind. I immediately asked her for her supervisor. Her supervisor came over and agreed that none of the items could go on board.
The two TSA officials then tossed everything back into the ice chest and started to walk away with it. At this point I became quite upset, as they were doing something illegal and unethical to say the least. I walked up to them and stated that if they were not going to allow me to take the ice chest on board that they needed to at least put it in with the cargo so that I would have access to it when we arrived in Dallas. The supervisor looked at me with scorn and said that would not be possible and that they were going to confiscate the entire ice chest.
Since we were going to be on this trip for 5 days I needed to have the ice chest so that I could keep it stocked with food for my mom. I reached for the handle of the ice chest, which was now in the hands of the younger agent. A “tug of war” over the ice chest proceeded to happen; at one point I noticed the agent look up to her supervisor and give her a smirk like this was really funny! I finally gave a very hard pull to the ice chest, got it away from the agent, walked over to the trash can, dumped all of the contents into the trash and made a very loud and public statement, “I want all of the people here to know that if anything happens to my mother because you did not allow me to take this on board I will hold you 100% responsible.”
At this point I had passed through the security area and was now ready to board the plane. As I headed toward the glass doors at the gate entrance, the American Airlines employee (a mid-aged woman) closed the glass doors. When I said that we needed to get on the plane she said, “You’re not boarding this plane.” I said I had a ticket and asked why I was not being allowed to board. She said, “With what just happened you are a threat to my passengers and I won’t allow you to board.” I walked up to her to speak to her and she gruffly said “Back off…you’re in my face!” I backed up 2 steps. I pleaded with her to let us on board. I explained that we needed to make our connection in Dallas in order to get to Nashville by 10 p.m. This trip was going to be hard enough on my 93-year old mother and we did not need to get there any later. She continued to deny access…I even got down on my knees, ready to kiss her feet, in a plea to allow access…all to no avail. When I asked for a supervisor she said, “I am the supervisor.”
A gentleman from airport security approached me and asked me to have a seat, which I did.
As I was sitting there I overheard someone say the word “vehicle”. At this point I asked the official if they were going to take me away to jail and he said “no”.
OK, I thought to myself, since I am not going to be arrested I need to get hold of American Airlines and have someone get us on board this plane which is scheduled to leave in 5 minutes. When the American Airlines employee that had been talking with me heard what I was trying to do, she made the statement, “You’re not leaving on any of the planes out of my terminal today!”
I was not going to accept what she was saying. I used my cell phone and tried going through “411” to get the number for American Airlines. Before I could get connected the airport police arrived, made me hang up the phone and put my hands behind my back. They proceeded to cuff me and put me in the police car without even telling me what is going on. Here was my mother, in her wheel chair, seeing Mele cry because I was being arrested (she had intentionally turned my mother away from the incidence so my mother would not witness the scene). Thank God one of the airport police officers did come up to me and got my husband’s cell phone number so Mele could call my husband for help. In the meantime nobody from the airport police, TSA, or American Airlines asked if they could be of any help to Mele or my mom!
While sitting in the police car before leaving the airport I find out that one of the TSA officials had placed a citizen’s arrest on me for battery! The agent claimed that I hit them and injured them. I could not believe the charges! At that time I decided to place a citizen’s arrest on the agent for theft. Nothing was done.
The female officer informed me that this probably would not take very long, especially if I decided to “cooperate” with them. I was hysterical, my heart was aching and I felt violated. I prayed, I told myself everything would be OK, and nothing offered me comfort. This continued for the next 5-6 hours.
I was read my rights in the patrol car. I asked for an attorney. Nothing happened. I did tell the officer what had happened…I did not hit anyone. I told the officer that the most “physical activity” that had occurred was the “tug of war” with the ice chest. They drove me down to the Burbank police department, walked me into the “dungeon” with no windows or clocks, and had me wait in line behind a young man that had one handcuff on his right hand and the other handcuff secured to the handrail on the wall. I stood there for what seemed to be about 30 minutes; my lips were extremely chapped and I asked if I could have the chapstick in my purse; the male officer said “No.” Shortly thereafter I asked if I could have a chair as my knee was starting to throb. I explained to them that I had just been to an orthopedic doctor and was informed that I would need a knee replacement due to severe arthritis; I also had a Baker’s cyst behind the knee and a torn ligament. “No, you cannot have a chair,” was the male officer’s response. When the pain got really bad I simply collapsed to my butt and sat on the floor, still cuffed with my hands behind my back. With snot running down my nose and tears pouring out of my eyes I finally asked if they could cuff me like the young man in front of me and if they could give me a tissue for my eyes and nose; the female officer agreed to do so.
It was finally my time to go up to the “booking” window. They uncuffed me. Once again I asked for an attorney; they did nothing. They then told me to put my hands on the bars in front of the window…how humiliating can it get? I did as they asked, still bawling my eyes out. After standing at the window with no activity, I once again sat down on the floor. I was asked questions like:
Q: Have you ever had psychiatric treatment?
A: Yes, after a severe post-partum depression 28 years ago.
Q: Do you take medication?
A: Yes, Sulindac for arthritis and a very low dosage of Effexor for pain and stress.
Due to the stress I felt flushed; when I mentioned it I heard in the background the word “paramedics”. Oh my gosh, I thought, they are going to haul me off to a hospital and I will never get to Nashville. I shouted that I was OK and that I did not need medical aid. The female officer shouted back to them…”did you hear her?” I’m certain that if it had not been for her they would not have called off the paramedic request, which had been issued without my permission.
They stripped me of all jewelry, including my wedding ring, took the shoelaces off my tennis shoes, and had me remove my bra as it was an underwire bra. They then put me in a holding cell with one other woman. I used the call button in the cell and asked the officer what time it was. They responded. The other woman was removed from the cell and I was left there alone. I felt as though I was about to have a nervous breakdown and thought that I had some medication in my purse. I pushed the call button once again and there was no response. I did this several times with the same result.
I figured it must be between 5-6 p.m. as dinner was served to me…a cardboard platter with refried beans, rotten corn, cooked cabbage, 2 slices of wheat bread, a pat of margarine and a container of milk. I had one bite of bread, a kernel of corn (and spit that out), and drank all of the milk, which was the only decent item served. Shortly thereafter an official came to the cell with a blanket and a towel and asked if I would like to go to the dormitory to lay down. My heart throbbed…was I going to be stuck here overnight? At this time I felt like the horse that had just been broken, which I think is the legal system’s intention…knock them down until they are crawling on the ground…they certainly had succeeded with me. I agreed that the dorm had to be more comfortable than the holding cell, which had a concrete bench, toilet, toilet paper, a bar of soap, and a sink.
The dormitory was much nicer, with a padded bed to lie down on. It had a shower which I would have used if I had not been so concerned with trying to make contact with the outside world. There was a phone on the wall in the dormitory as well. There was no information written down explaining how the calling system worked. I believe that when the party I was trying to call answered the phone, they were supposed to hear a recording that explained that all calls needed to be on a prepaid program and told them what to do to set it up. The recording, however, was malfunctioning and so nobody knew what to do. I called the only 4 numbers I had memorized, was cut off from the conversation after 1 minute, and when I attempted to call them back the call would not go through because the prepaid system was not set up. They then took me out of the dorm cell and did digital fingerprinting, followed by the ink fingerprinting. The black ink was thick on my hands and the only thing they gave me to wash it off was a waterless soap. No matter how much I wiped my hands, the ink was ground under my nails and would not wash off when I finally was allowed to go to a sink. My mug shot was taken and then I was placed in the “booth” where I was allowed up to 3 calls. I called my husband and they told him that I would be ready to go at 8:30 p.m. I was then ushered back to the dormitory. At 8:30 p.m. they released me and gave me my purse and a sealed plastic bag with my cash, jewelry, bra and shoelaces. The jail “lobby” was nothing more than a hallway that opened out onto the city street. I had no idea where I was.
I found the police station, which was around the corner and was being remodeled. I called my husband and let him know where I was. I went into the restroom so that I could put my bra back on, put the shoelaces in my shoes, put my jewelry back on and reorganize my purse, which had obviously been completely rummaged through and things thrown back in.
When my husband, John, picked me up he was quite upset as well as what had happened. He told me that when he went to the airport to pick up my mom and Mele he spoke with the watch commander for the airport police, Sergeant Depot. John was told that it was quite “traumatic” and that I had injured 2 officials. John asked if they had tapes and he said yes. John said, “Good, because you are going to need them in court.”
John then informed me that at first he had taken my mom and Mele to our office, not knowing how long I was going to be detained. He then took them to my daughter’s apartment in Valley Village, as they would be more comfortable there. As it started to get dark and there was no definite time given regarding my release, my husband put my mom and Mele on Metrolink, which stopped in Camarillo where my other daughter, Allison, picked them up and brought them back to our house. Mele fed mom and herself and they waited to see what was to materialize.
John thought that I would want to go home and sleep for the night. I explained to him that I had nothing at home…everything was packed in our suitcases and was on its way to Nashville without us. Mele had taken out my mom’s medication for that night, but all the rest of her medications were in the suitcase. If it had only been myself traveling I would have said I had enough and would have gone home and had the airlines return my baggage as soon as they could. I then thought of my mom, who at 93 years of age will probably not see any of her other unmarried grandchildren get married. I had to get her to this wedding.
I told John we were not going to go home. We arranged for Allison to drive my mom and Mele to L.A. International Airport (they stop inbound and outbound flights out of Burbank in the evening). American Airlines had told my daughter that the “red eyes” had plenty of room and that we could get on one of them with no problem. When my husband and I got to the airport we went straight to American Airlines ticketing. I started off with a “trainee” who was very slow and unable to give us the assistance we needed. I then asked for a supervisor, who was much more proficient with the computer terminal and began looking at our options.
There was a flight out to Dallas at midnight, but there were only 2 seats available. That would not work for us, so we had to take a 1 a.m. flight to Dallas instead. The agent then informed me that it would be an extra $750…at which point I informed him that we were told that since we had tickets American Airlines would simply put us on a different flight at no additional charge. He was not willing to abide by this promise and there was another $750 per ticket charged! This agent did get us good seats on the airplane (the first row of seats behind first class, which has more leg room and easier to get in and get out than the regular seats) for both the trip to Nashville as well as from Nashville back to Los Angeles. From this point on (I think maybe the word “lawsuit” might have made it up to higher management) American Airlines treated us very well. When we arrived in Dallas, which is a HUGE terminal, there was a handicap tram waiting to take us to our next boarding gate. There were stewards to help push the wheelchair and carry the luggage. Why does one have to make the threat of a lawsuit in order to get the customer service they should normally receive? That’s besides me.
We finally landed in Nashville around 10:30 a.m. Nashville time. Although we missed the luncheon, we were able to attend the rehearsal and rehearsal dinner on Friday and the wedding and wedding reception on Saturday. Mom did OK considering the circumstances, although the confusion and lack of sleep make it so she did not even recognize my brothers when she first saw them.
