Chime In I Fly Solo in My 90s—And Here’s How You Can Do It, Too Stories You May Like I Visited Every County in the U.S.—and Yes, There’s a Club for That Recalling the ’50s on the Hill, an Era of ‘Gracious Living’ From Iraq to Bangladesh, ‘Vlogger’ Hotelie Goes Off the Beaten Track Thanks to many miles of experience (and a walker named Charlie), I have my routine for taking plane trips alone down to a science By Elizabeth Alexander Weis ’50 Let me introduce myself. I am surely not as disabled as others. I have a bad knee that I did not take care of, and now am at an age that has contributed to my “disability.” I travel each summer to see my children in various parts of the country. These trips often last two months and entail various climates. Preplanning is essential. This includes making my reservation, organizing my luggage, and allocating my tips. I have also discovered that one needs a certain amount of gravitas tempered with humility. I make my reservation early, asking for a wheelchair and disabled seating. The latter is limited, so this important. If I am changing planes, I plan for extra time to allow for “skycap performance.” When making the reservation, I mention that I travel with a walker for which there is no baggage charge. I named my walker “Charlie.” My carry-on luggage is a sturdy “spinner” that contains another pair of shoes, toiletries, sleepwear, and a two-day supply of clothes. It carries nothing that requires opening at security. My under-the-seat carry-on holds important things such as medicine, glasses, devices, charging cables, money, tips, itinerary, a small paperback book, a scarf for warmth, and my handicap sticker. (I sometimes think this is more important to my children than me.) I have discovered that one needs a certain amount of gravitas tempered with humility. In the past, my under-the-seat carry-on was what I referred to as a “Mary Poppins bag.” Now I use a travel briefcase; it is easier to manage. Before boarding, I ask the gate attendant to place my carry-on suitcase in baggage. This saves asking someone for help to store it when I get to my seat. I wear layered clothes consisting of comfortable slacks, a zippered hoodie, a lightweight shirt, and a long tee to cover my hips. (I find airplane seats unforgiving.) I do not wear these clothes except for traveling. I wear a lanyard in which I place my driver’s license and the tip money I need for the service I am getting. It goes in my briefcase during security; later I return it to my neck. One of the best things about traveling: the food! I pass through security in the chair, after which I am patted down and my hands examined for “bomb residue” (!). The skycap puts my possessions through security. If I need to use the restroom while being taken to the gate, I use the wheelchair, or the handle of my spinner, as a walker. At the gate, I ask to keep the wheelchair. It is more comfortable than the chairs, and I can place it to make certain the attendant sees me. (This is especially important: I have been forgotten three times, and boarded late.) To board, I am wheeled backwards down the jetway. Stories You May Like I Visited Every County in the U.S.—and Yes, There’s a Club for That Recalling the ’50s on the Hill, an Era of ‘Gracious Living’ At the plane, I ask to have the chair placed adjacent to the door; this allows me to grab the hull for balance. I sometimes ask to use the restroom before making it to my seat to settle in. During the flight, I ask the attendant if I might deplane after it is certain a wheelchair is waiting for me. Once in Chicago, there was no chair. I had to walk the jetway, and wait an hour until they found a chair and a skycap. Yuck! When going to baggage claim, I am often given the choice of using the restroom at the arrival gate. Based on a skycap’s suggestion, I opt for the one by baggage claim. It is usually empty, and a much more efficient use of time. My luggage has yellow tape with my name in large black letters on it, making it easy for the skycap to spot. With it, and Charlie’s arrival, the skycap loads my carry-on beneath the chair. I carry my briefcase. My luggage has yellow tape with my name in large black letters on it, making it easy for the skycap to spot. Charlie is folded and placed against my lap with its wheels resting on the chair’s footrest. The skycap pulls the other piece of luggage. We go to the pull-up lane outside the airport, where I am left in the wheelchair (which will be picked up later). My ride pulls right to the curb where I am waiting. All in all, traveling is a pleasant experience. I have said “please” and “thank you” many times. The skycaps appreciate my tips, which I pre-fold with a paper clip and a sticky note telling me for which part of my trip it is for. I carry several single dollar bills for extra kindnesses. As I wait for my ride, I look forward to enjoying my destination while being extremely grateful for those that have made my trip possible. May you too be so blessed. Human Ecology alumna Elizabeth Alexander Weis ’50, known as Betsy, raised eight children with her late husband (Lawrence Weis ’51, BME ’53) before earning a JD from the University of Pittsburgh at age 60. She ran her own practice in Wilmington, NC, dedicated to estate planning and elder and disability law, winning two awards for her pro bono service. She closed her practice at age 75 and now resides in Osprey, FL—when she’s not on the road visiting family. (All photos provided.) Published May 18, 2023 Comments Irene Hendricks, Class of 1986 23 May, 2023 Betsy you are a marvel of organization and practicality. These are great tips for many of us at just about any age! Keep flying. Reply Mary Gidley Gregg, Class of 1969 23 May, 2023 Brava Betsy! You are terrific, and your children so fortunate to have such an active and determined mother. May you have many more travels. Reply Linda G Webb, Class of 1983 23 May, 2023 Great advice! Reply Michelle, Class of 1994 24 May, 2023 just wonderful, long may your travels continue Reply Karen Jewett-Bennett, Class of 1979 25 May, 2023 Betsy, You are an inspiration. My father, Don Jewett ’50, your Cornell classmate, travels from New England with my Mom to see me once a year. I am so lucky they can do it. Reply Leave a Comment Cancel replyOnce your comment is approved, your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *Comment * Name * Class Year Email * Save my name, email, and class year in this browser for the next time I comment. Δ Other stories You may like 6 Questions For ... Sick and Tired of Politics? 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