Cancun ~ The Rest of the Story

When we were preparing to go on the trip to Cancun, we had to have our official birth certificates, not necessary to enter Mexico, but to assure our re-entry into the US. I began hounding hubs about 3 months early, to make certain he had the proper papers. I got mine and the two children's papers together.

In the Atlanta airport, as we were about to board the plane, the airline people were checking our papers to make sure we had everything we needed. Hub's papers were in order; he had gone to the birth records office in NYC and stood in line for hours to get his. The children's were in order, I had collected their stuff. Then, we came to mine. Would you believe that for all the years since I left my parent's home, I thought what I had was an official birth certificate. No, no, what I had was a "certificate of live birth". What the exact difference is - I cannot tell you - but I was told it was not good enough to be able to get back into the US. I could not get onto the flight unless I could prove I was who I said I was.

So, tell me.......how does one prove who they are in the middle of an airport in Atlanta, when that person was born in WV and resided in NC? At that point, my husband was red with anger and frustration, and I was red from fear and embarrassment. We looked like Mr. and Mrs. Santa, and it was August.

The flight attendant said I would have to go to some office, I can't remember the name of it, and let them take a photo of me and affix it to an affadavit, which I would fill out and sign, swearing that I am who I am. Now if you are familiar with the Atlanta airport, you know that NOTHING is close to ANYTHING there. I was at the extreme end of Concourse C and this office was in Section A, which was about 3 miles away. I had to run to the end of the concourse (past about 30 gates), run down an escalator, catch a train to the other concourse, run up an escalator, locate the office, get the photo made, write the affadavit, get it stamped, and run back to the original gate - all within 15 minutes - or I risked being left behind. Mind you, I was doing all this while trying to run in thong sandals, through crowds of people hauling luggage, who were not the slightest bit interested in getting out of my way! I had the extra problem that my hubs was so mad at me he threatened to go to Mexico without me, and I believed he would!

As you know from the previous post, I did make it back to the gate in time, running all the way. I thought my heart would give out before I got there, and I was staggering and gasping for air. The photo that the officeworker took with a Polaroid camera, is barely recognizable. I was so drained of energy after all that running, my face was as white as snow. I don't think I have ever been that colorless before, and I am typically pale anyway.

As soon as we boarded the plane, I asked for a Bloody Mary. For a person whose only form of exercise prior to this experience was lifting a cup of coffee to my mouth, I was exhausted from the run. Oh, I forgot, the thong sandals I had on were so bad for running that I took them off and completed the run to the office and back barefooted. I wonder what all those people in the airport thought about me that day; running wildly through 2 concourses, hair flying, clothing disheveled, no shoes and no luggage. Actually, I don't think I want to know what they thought. I just hope no one else remembers!