In hopes of going home to see family, friends, and loved ones for some much-needed rest and relaxation, Dogwood Maple had tickets on a 12:30 PM flight out of Toronto headed back to his hometown of Atlanta, Georgia. Being the cautious traveler that he is, Maple planned to arrive at the Toronto Pearson International Airport around 8:15 AM just to be on the safe side. 

"I'm one of those people who likes to people watch and really enjoys the airport.  I really don't mind just sitting at my gate with a cup of coffee and a book and just waiting to board.  It doesn't bother me a bit.  That's why I'd much rather spend way too much time at the airport being early then have to rush and sprint through the concourse to make my flight," Dogwood said.

When traffic was lighter than usual, Dogwood breathed a sigh of relief as he pulled into the airport at 8:01, four hours and 29 minutes from when his flight left. To his surprise, security was also not exactly packed and he got in line after dropping off his checked bag at the Delta counter.  He'd been at this airport a dozen times and knew that based on how long the line was, he wouldn't spend more than 45 minutes getting through security which would leave him ample time to find his gate, get a cup of coffee, and relax.  Hopes of that happening came to a crashing halt, however.

"I was in line when all of the sudden a bunch of police ran up to everyone and took off towards baggage claim. I'm talking full SWAT type setup.  We were all getting pretty nervous because the line stopped and finally there was an announcement from the overhead public address speaker who said there would be airport-wide delays while they investigated something.  But I figured that they would move all of our flights back, which absolutely did not happen.  My 12:30 PM flight was still set to leave at 12:30 PM despite the extended delays getting through security."

The delay started at 30 minutes and quickly turned into an hour and a half.  Dogwood began to get nervous as he kept looking at his watch and continued to see his departure time get ever closer.  9:30.  10:00.  10:30.  11:15.  11:45.  He was inching towards the X-ray machines at 11:58 as sweat poured down his brow.

"I have never missed a flight," he said, "but I was convinced this was the one time it would happen. I even got here four-plus hours early and now I had less than 30 minutes to finish security and get to my gate.

As the clock rolled past noon, Dogwood finally put his carry-on bags onto the conveyor belt and removed his shoes, jacket, and belt and went through the x-ray metal detector things.  To his surprise, his bag was flagged by the TSA agent behind the metal detector.

"Sir, is this your bag?" the agent asked, pointing to his black JanSport bookbag.

"Yes, that's mine.  What's the problem?" he responded.

"Well, as you can see here on the screen, there seems to be an illicit substance in here."

The agent pointed to the screen and showed Dogwood what she was talking about.

"That's not my bag on the screen you're pointing to.  That screen is showing a bag with just one strap, mine has too.  I think you're confusing mine with someone else," he said.

"Sir, please do not get combative.  As you can see here on the screen, there is a metal watch in the bottom of this bag that is causing our sensors to alarm."

Dogwood pointed to one of the bins that already came through the conveyor belt that contained his watch.

"My watch is right there.  And my bag has two straps, I'm telling you that is not my bag," Dogwood protested.

"Sir, this bag clearly has one strap and there's a watch in the bottom of it..." her voice trailed off as she realized her conundrum.

"Like I said, it's clearly not my bag."

"I'll have to call a supervisor over here."

At this point it was 12:14 and Dogwood was pouring sweat, frustrated at the holdup. The supervisor finally showed up at 12:17 and the interrogation continued.

"Sir, which bag is yours?" he asked.

Dogwood motioned towards a two-strap, black JanSport at the end of the conveyor belt, sitting in the same large plastic container as his watch.  The supervisor unzipped it, poured everything out and was apparently on the hunt for the watch that most certainly isn't in there.

"Wait, this bag that we flagged only has one strap and there's a watch in it.  It's not yours?"

"No."

After a brief whispered conversation between the supervisor and the agent, they handed Dogwood his bag back and told him to have a nice day. 

It was 12:20.

Flustered, Dogwood raced around the corner, up an escalator, down another escalator, across the moving sidewalk as he finally saw his gate off in the distance.  Luckily for him, all his years of playing professional hockey meant he had incredible speed and endurance, which he counted on to get him to the plane on time.  Just as he turned the corner into his gate, he saw one of the Delta agents slowly walking towards the door with nobody else around. 

"IT'S ME WAIT I HAVE A TICKET I'M ON THAT PLANE!!!"

Fortunately, she hadn't shut the door to the plane yet and allowed Maple on the plane, the last passenger aboard.  He quickly made his way to his Row 9 seat and breathed an enormous sigh of relief.  He knew that holiday travel was always slower than usual, but he never envisioned that he would spend four hours in the airport and barely make his flight home for Christmas.  As he settled into his seat, put his headphones in, and began to select a movie to watch, he heard that all-too-familiar ding from the flight crew which signaled a pending announcement.

"Uh, ladies and gentlemen this is your captain speaking.  And apparently we're going to be sitting here a while.  Someone in a Santa suit stole one of the luggage vans and crashed across our runway.  The tower is expecting at least an hour delay, so just try to make yourselves comfortable."

Of course, Dogwood thought to himself as he tried to enjoy his movie and wondered what exactly happened to the rogue, vehicle stealing Santa.  His wonder was quickly dispelled as he looked outside his window and saw what was transpiring.  There were four police cars who had strategically set up around the luggage van in question as passengers on the flight could barely make out what commands were being yelled.  And sure enough, after a few minutes, a man in a Santa suit stumbled out of the van.

"If this was the guy they were after, he was the jolliest looking criminal I've ever seen. I'm talking about everything - he had the rosy cheeks, large jolly Santa suit, and the whole nine yards.  The craziest thing is that he kept looking up to the sky like he was awaiting something," Dogwood explained.

Many of his fellow passengers joked that he was waiting for the reindeer and sleigh to come rescue him and just as folks started to say that, there was an enormous flash of light and a major thunder clap. And just like that, the aforementioned Santa was gone.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we've been given the all-clear to head to runway one-five and we should be near the top of the list, so I expect us to be wheels up here shortly," the captain said.

Dogwood was in disbelief.

"I mean what happened? I'm staring outside my window and I see this Santa who has been causing all these problems including our hour-long delay, and then all the sudden BAM there's a lightning strike and he's gone? And we're cleared for takeoff?"

Some of the other passengers echoed his ponderances and some even swore that once they finally took off, they could hear a very faint "Ho Ho Ho" off in the distance.

Fortunately for Dogwood and his flying compatriots, the rest of the flight went off without a hitch.  The plane landed in Atlanta with no problems and they were even fast to disembark and head to baggage claim.  After how slow and unlucky his outgoing flight experience, Maple thought to himself that maybe that was going to be the only hiccup of his holiday travel. 

He would turn out to be wildly incorrect.

When he and the rest of the passengers made it to the luggage carousel assigned to their flight, it took some 45 minutes for bags to start showing up.  Maple kept a close eye out for his large blue suitcase, but failed to locate it.  And then he saw something bizarre.  He noticed one of his favorite University of Georgia shirts was on the luggage carousel.  By itself.  And then he saw a pair of his boots.  And a sweater.  And an undershirt.  And socks.

"Holy s%@#," he muttered to himself.

He jumped up on the carousel and started grabbing all of his clothing items, which sent the other people waiting into a panic.  They even called security who came running.

"Sir, please get off the luggage carousel!" they shouted.

"You don't understand, these are my clothes. My bag must've opened somehow, these are definitely my things."

It was almost as if the security folks felt sorry for him, so they pressed the emergency stop button and crowdsourced everyone to come help collect his items.  Once they had gotten everything, they'd start the machine again and the process would continue.  Finally, his bag came around the corner and sure enough, it was wide open.  Not cracked, not slightly ajar, not a little bit unzipped, it was completely open with only a small number of items remaining.

Maple was able to collect everything and haul it over to a corner of the airport so he could repack it when a man in a suit with a Delta tie clip came up to him.  He had a long white beard and was quite rotund.

"Sir, we're very sorry this happened to your luggage.  If you'd like, we can refund your ticket and offer you a complimentary shuttle to wherever you're going.  It's the least we could do after this embarrassing snafu that is completely our fault," he said with a slight twinkle in his eye.

"I mean, I guess so?" Maple replied.  "Sure.  That would be very kind of y'all."

The Delta employee led him down the escalator around the corner and past the area where people would normally be picked up for ground transportation, before walking towards a black Mercedes-Benz sedan.  The employee helped Maple load his luggage, opened the door for him, and then started the car.

"Wait, you're going to be the one driving me?  I thought you were just a Delta worker?"

"Well that's not a very kind description of what I do.  'Just' a worker," he said with a grin.

"No, I just mean that I feel like you're really going above and beyond here."

"That's my job."

Dogwood told him his parents' address and the GPS predicted a 41 minute journey, which was strangely fast for this time of day coming from the airport. Especially around the holidays. That, unfortunately yet again, was a bad omen for Dogwood.  They turned onto the interstate and were cruising right along when all of the sudden there was complete traffic jam up ahead. 

When the car continued far enough to where they could see the cause of the traffic, it was nothing else than a large pack of reindeer standing in the middle of the road.  This was unusual on multiple fronts, as Georgia never had reindeer and certainly not in this large of a pack.  It was so bad that numerous drivers had called the police to try and assist with their removal, but the cops were ineffective at best.  They tried shoo-ing the animals, they tried firing warning shots into the air, they drive slowly driving up to them and honking.  Nothing.  Not an inch.

They didn't move an inch until...

(stayed tuned for part two...)