I forgot one when I was much younger
if I can:
When I was twelve, my older brother was earning a new rank in the Marines, something like that. This was in San Francisco; my parents and I were in Cleveland. My parents flew out the week before my spring break to attend the graduation; I was to follow on a non-stop flight from Cleveland to San Fran the next week (itself rather frightening). Another of my brothers would put me on the plane at home, then my parents would meet me at SF.
Well, that was when there was an airline strike, and the nonstop flight got canceled. My brother and I went to a travel agency, where the only option was flying first to Dallas-Ft. Worth (with a stop in St. Louis), spending the night at a hotel there, then catching another flight on to San Francisco. Oh, and the only seat available was first class
. I spoke up and said "I'll take it!" I had meal tickets and the hotel was on the airline, due to the striking.
My brother put me on the flight-writing down detailed instructions on the ticket envelope, which I still have today
. All went well, and I managed to catch the little train to the hotel in Dallas (the airport is very different now). The next morning, however, the flight to San Francisco was canceled! I got into a line and told the person that I wanted the "next flight to San Francisco". Obviously, this was way before cell phones, so I had no idea that I could think of for contacting my parents, already waiting for the expected flight. When I got to San Francisco, I searched around the gates for a few minutes before I found them.
The only etiquette glitch I can think of is when I got myself and the suitcases back to the Dallas airport in the morning, a redcap offered to pull them over to the ticket counter to check in. He waited for a few minutes, and I wondered why he wasn't getting more bags. Then he says very slowly, "Two dollars, please!"
. I hadn't known anything about tipping them.
So, flying across the country that young was brave