United is reviewing an incident that left 250 passengers stuck on an airplane on a small Canadian airfield for about 12 hours last weekend, prompting some to email airline Chief Executive Oscar Munoz.
WSJ
Passengers on Flight 13 had boarded and were seated;
flight attendants had made sure each passenger was greeted.
Peanuts were delivered to those hungry for a treat;
the atmosphere was homey as shoes came off tired feet.
The engines raced, the engines roared, as takeoff was beginning.
Babies had been quieted and old folks started chinning.
The pilot on the intercom said weather in Hoboken
was rainy with a touch of wind and cloud cover unbroken.
The in-flight magazine displayed some tropic mountains soaring;
but otherwise the mundane prose and photos were quite boring.
Instruction on the masks and floating pads reminded all
that planes were merely metal tubes that actually could fall.
The big bird on the tarmac ran, majestic as a swan.
The Tower gave the go-ahead to climb into the dawn.
So Flight 13 to Hoboken was soon up in the air;
it looked to be a peaceful flight without a single care.
Then . . .
like the wonderful one-hoss shay in poetry revered,
the chassis of that plane did shake, and metal groans were heerd.
The passengers were much alarmed; the flight attendants, too.
The captain on the intercom announced it was "Code Blue."
Code Blue! The very name struck fear in liver and in lights;
was this to be another one of those dread missing flights?
The engines sputtered out at once; the fuselage did crack;
the turbulence was awful and down came the luggage rack.
Luckily the pilot was as cool as cukes in snowbank;
he radioed an SOS and said that this was no prank.
He white-knuckled the steering wheel down past the fleecy clouds
and landed in a meadow that was lacking airline crowds.
Then . . .
passengers and crew together gave a gladsome shout,
until they found the doors were jammed and no one could get out.
The meadow where they landed was so far out in the sticks
that no one round about knew how an airplane door to fix.
The peanuts were exhausted and the booze was gone as well;
the sober hunger pangs were getting very hard to quell.
The babies now were squalling and the old folks had to pee;
the bathrooms overflowed, which did not cause a jubilee.
Passengers grew surly, the attendants sat and wept;
it now seemed an eternity since anyone had slept.
Suddenly an Air Marshal revealed himself to say
that they were all arrested for felonious horseplay.
Then . . .
the tumult that erupted at this blatant disregard
for liberty and justice hit that Marshal pretty hard.
They passed him down the aisle just like a mosh pit votary,
until all that remained of him was part of his left knee.
"I'm hungry!" yelled an older man, "and I don't care a fig
about taboos against the eating of some fresh long pig."
The passengers and crew now eyed each other with suspense;
it looked like someone soon would be referred to in past tense.
But just then a mechanic from the airline did arrive;
he pried the doors all open, which made languid hope revive.
The emails that those passengers then sent the CEO
of the airline made him cringe and caused his ears to glow.
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Tim Torkildson
torkythai911@gmail.com
Available for Company Picnics and Swap Meets
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