By now everyone knows about the shooting that happened in Florida last Friday.
I immediately paid attention when I saw a headline appear on my computer about a shooting in an airport because our son was flying cross-country at that exact moment. When we took him to the airport at 6:00 am that morning I was only concerned about the incoming ice storms and expected snowfall - an act of terror was not even on my radar.
After feeling immediate relief that the shooting happened in Florida - (none of the 3 airports my son would be in that day were in Florida) - I then felt awful for the people involved. While I thought about those killed or harmed and the families it affected, I didn't even consider another issue that arises from this kind of an event; all the things left behind when people have to suddenly drop their things and evacuate.
An article from Fox caught my attention when it focused on that topic... it was a good piece to ponder over morning coffee about. All the wallets, passports, medications, luggage and shoes left in the security area as people were made to drop their things and run.....
Here are some bits and pieces of the article; you can read it in its entirety at the source link above.
"Dan and Janice Kovacs and their two children were passing through airport security when the gunfire erupted. They were shoeless — with wallets, passports and carry-on items chugging along a conveyer belt — when they sprang into the mass of people running to safety.
"We have no IDs, we have no passports, no money," Janice, 39, said Saturday afternoon, wearing sandals borrowed from a brother-in-law. "We just had to leave our stuff and run."
The shooting Friday afternoon, which killed five people and wounded six, also stranded about 12,000 outgoing and incoming travelers, many returning from cruises or arriving ahead of the usual Saturday departures of the massive ships based in the tourism hub's Port Everglades terminal.
Some travelers were kept on planes for more than seven hours while police put the airport on lockdown; others scrambled to protected corners or were hustled out onto the tarmac. The Kovacs, on the way home to Vancouver, British Columbia, after a Caribbean cruise, went out onto that rough surface barefoot.
Airport spokesman Greg Meyer said most bags won't be available until Monday. The airport hired an outside firm to collect discarded bags and sort them by where they were found so they can be identified by their owners. Those with lost luggage were told to call a toll-free number. But there were exceptions as airport officials scrambled to work with individuals.
Richard Lanbry, his wife and 15-year-old daughter were about to board a plane home for Montreal when the shooting began. Amid the commotion, he was separated from the other two and frantically searched for them for about an hour.
"I was pushed down, my wife was pushed down too. It was violent ... people screaming, people crying, old and young. It was very scary," said the 61-year-old, who was vacationing in Pompano Beach.
On top of that, they now have no luggage, no keys to their home and no coats or sweaters to wear once they arrive in chilly Montreal, only the T-shirts they we wearing the day before.
Larry and Joy Edwards were about to board their flight home to Columbus, Ohio, after a Caribbean cruise. They ran out the skyway and down stairs onto the tarmac, where they were told to drop their carry-on bags and dash out to the runway. They eventually were taken to a hangar and bused to Port Everglades. That's where they spent most of the night.
"The Red Cross came. They gave us food and blankets and pillows. Everybody did what they could," Joy Edwards said.
At 4:30 a.m., they were bused to a Miami motel. They had come back to the airport in an unsuccessful attempt to retrieve their luggage, which contained their passports, medicine and other essentials.
Larry Edwards, a retired electric lineman, said they won't be able to get home until Monday and pointed to the clothes they had put on Friday morning.
"All we have is this and our smelly selves," he said.