"You can't get "thar" from "heyah" doesn't only apply to the back roads of Maine. It can also happen at one of the country's busiest airports, O'Hare in Chicago.

After a wonderful week visiting my daughter and her family in Colorado Springs during winter break, it was time to go home. My 14-year-old granddaughter, Carly, who had never flown before, seemed quite comfortable when she learned that our plane couldn't leave Chicago because of the weather, and we faced a three-hour delay in Colorado Springs.

My older granddaughter, Kayla, 19, was also on the trip with us, along with her 8-month-old baby, Gabrielle, "Gabby" for short. Together, we played with the baby, fed the baby, walked the baby and changed the baby, hoping the time would quickly pass.

Finally, it was announced that our plane had arrived, and we would be leaving for Chicago, and hopefully, we could make our connecting flight to Burlington. It was the calm before the storm, so to speak.

FLYING BLIND

Chicago's airport is not for the faint of heart, but we managed to trek our way through a maze of shops, hallways, waiting areas and gates only to find that our flight had been delayed. Okay. Another hour, another delay. Then another hour.

Suddenly it was 8 p.m. And the board behind the desk was blank. The agent had disappeared into thin air. We thought, "Surely they will be coming back, and we'll be taking the red-eye' to Vermont." Not!

I walked down the hallway to check the departure screen and felt my heart sink to my shoes: "Cancelled." Cancelled? Without a word from the agents at the desk? Guess they've been in that scenario before and decided to get out while the getting was good!

So we gathered up the baby and our carry-ons and stopped the first airline attendant we saw. He said we'd have to see the customer service people down near the dinosaur display, along with about 100 others whose flights had also been canceled.

I've flown to England, had an IRA bomb scare, had to evacuate the plane near a cow field in Heathrow, but at least they told us what was going on! I have flown domestic before and had delays but at least they kept us informed. This was different.

PAYING THE PRICE

The nice, pleasant, patient, smiling elderly lady (can't scream at an elderly lady!) walked through the line, listening to everyone's story and handing each one a pink card with an 800 number. Call that number, she said, and find out what hotels are available. Choose one and get a confirmation number and get a special rate.

"And the airline will pay for the room?" was my naïve question.

"Oh, no," was her reply. "We only pay for a room in case of mechanical problems not because of the weather."

Oh, great! Good thing I brought my debit card!

After finding our way out of the airport, trekking through the snow, crossing a busy intersection and walking a half a block with bags, baby and stroller, we were picked up by the hotel shuttle. A cheery driver and a "free" bottle of water were both very welcome.

Our hotel, the Hyatt Regency O'Hare, was phenomenal, like they show on Oprah! The staff was most sympathetic to our plight and got us through the line and up to our room in no time flat. Carly was elated to find a small refrigerator, filled with candy bars, fruit drinks and soda. She ripped open a Kit-Kat bar and drank a bottle of fruit juice before I noticed what she was doing. Kayla mentioned something about emptying out the "cute" little alcoholic drink bottles and taking them home for souvenirs.

About that time Carly happened to notice a sign, "Mini-bar prices: candy bars $3; Pepsi $4, Chardonnay $100." That stopped both girls from filling their mouths and their pockets! After ordering a $14 small pizza and having something to eat, we all hit the beds, thankful to have a nice place to sleep, and leaving a wake-up call for 6 a.m.

ANOTHER DELAY

The phone call came early. We loaded up again, took the shuttle, went through security, found our gate and settled in, waiting for our boarding call. Not! About 40 minutes before our 9 a.m. flight, the agent announced that the plane we were supposed to use was coming in with mechanical problems. We would have to wait for a part to be flown in from St. Louis, Mo. A collective groan filled the air. Not another delay!

Departure time was set for 11:30 a.m. Gabby just flashed her blue eyes and clapped her hands!

About 11 a.m., an announcement was made that the repair might take longer than they thought; we may not leave until 4:30 p.m. That was it! Sane people became very agitated. Little sleep, unexpected delays, all came together, and the poor agent heard it from everybody! They quieted a bit when he promised vouchers for lunch, until they found out they were only $7 each. Bottled water costs $4 at the airport! Lunch would be slim.

I started walking the hallways and praying for the Almighty to intervene, because I was beginning to lose my patience. I didn't fault any airline for bad weather, but, come on, they didn't start business yesterday. There must be at least one spare plane somewhere they could call in when there are mechanical problems.

LOST LUGGAGE

Suddenly Kayla came running down the hall, "Gramma, hurry up. They got a plane for us. We're leaving soon."

Halleluiah! Thank you, God!

We finally left the ground at 12:45 in the afternoon, headed for Vermont. What else could go wrong? You guessed it! Our luggage wasn't on the carousel at Burlington airport! How could this be? "Go to the service desk," said one of the other passengers.

His luggage was missing, too.

A very helpful gentleman came out and said, "Oh, there's luggage in my office that came in last night from Chicago. Maybe it's there!"

How can that be, I asked myself? My luggage got here in a snowstorm and I couldn't?

I could have hugged the agent and then hugged the luggage when I saw it was mine.

Kayla's husband was there to meet us, the baby was happy to see her daddy, we had our luggage, my husband was waiting outside to drive us home, and I was complete again. Oh, happy days!

Fly the friendly skies? Not for a while!