There are times when taking a photograph seems intrusive. Such was the case last evening disembarking from the plane as it arrived in California. Sitting in the row in front of me was a businessman ending his week and next to him a WW2 veteran. I know this from the hat he proudly wore. As I collected my things and stood ready to free myself from the shackles of seat 6F I overheard the businessman ask his seat mate whether turkey would be on the menu for Thanksgiving. The veteran replied… “My son has cancer and so we will eat what he can eat. I am just glad to be here and to spend time with him.” We all patiently waited as the businessman cleared the aisle for the veteran’s safe departure. Slowly, the cabin emptied following him up the long jetway, at the end of which everyone scattered in different directions.
Leaving the jetway I happened upon the businessman collecting his things and looking for his parking ticket. Moved deeply I stop to note his kindness to his seat mate. It was so charming and lovely and I felt honored to have seen this gentle and simple act of humanity.
The airport was empty as it was nearly the last flight of the night. I too was harried wanting to reconnect with CF and begin our short weekend. I stopped and looked around, to firmly fix in my memory, the story and emotions of this moment I had just experienced.
No photo necessary.