Flying into Reagan
March 9, 2006
One site I missed last summer in my survey of Washington DC was Ronald Reagan Airport.. naturally, since we had our car and airport security frowns on someone like me just walking in and taking pictures. But we figured that when you arrive as a passenger, there must be photography rights built into the ticket. So while Emily got hydrated, I walked around and snapped photographs.
A couple of years ago I flew into Reagan from Atlanta, and they were quite serious then about having everyone sitting in their seats a full half-hour before landing. The warnings were oh so stern.. if anyone was not seated then the plane would be re-directed to the closest airport, and besides the ire of fellow passengers that person would have to face law enforcement officers. The flight from Atlanta is quite short, and it takes a few minutes after take-off just to gain altitude and switch off the fasten seatbelt sign.. so essentially it was a seated flight. Between now and then they this rule was abrogated.. as with so many post 9/11 rules, it turned out to take a lot of effort and not really improve our safety.
Reagan is a small airport.. The planes sitting at gates were all smaller models.. no jumbo 747s or anything like that. I imagine all those bigger planes must use Dulles. As far as I am concerned, nothing beats the convenience of being able to take the Metro into the city.. we just hopped on the Blue Line and got off at Capitol South, a block from the hotel where we will be staying for a few nights. That is the exit closest to the Capitol building, which was visible from the windows at our terminal (see above). Just to the right was the bronze flame atop the Jefferson Building of the Library of Congress.. and it happens that the Folger Library.. where Emily will be attending a conference on the history of the book.. is just a block away from the Jefferson Building.
Reagan is modest.. but we could still look up at the cathedral-like rafters. Leaving, we could look down from a pedestrian bridge and see a rather impressive view of the access road passing by the baggage claim area on the lower level. The basic interior of the terminal was really indistinguishable from hundreds of other airport interiors. Each gate was marked with a large number. For each number there is a desk accompanied by a large screen that proclaims the next flight, the destination, time, etc.. Around those islands is a sea of lightly padded seats, where everyone endures the conversations of their neighbors on a cell phone. Nearby are the newsstands and sub-shops and smoothie factories and airport bars.. made to order for anyone who wants to get away from someone else’s cell phone conversation.
Airports are a peculiar part of our American landscape. This morning on our way to the Atlanta airport on the 285 Freeway, we passed some mighty earthworks, allowing the runways to extend over the freeway. An enormous bank of moved earth rolled along on our right.. a bank with a mass that would have stunned the pyramid builders. It will not be counted as a wonder of the world, though, since it just sits there, inert. I sometimes wonder what will happen as centuries pass and transportation modes change.. or as fuel becomes more and more expensive and travel more prohibitive.. what will these airports littering our landscape look like. Ghost-ports perhaps they will call them. And those people will forget how these hubs shaped our movement. And they will just wonder at the miles and miles of cement covering the earth.. quite uneven by that time because of slight shifts in the ground. These massive plates will be uneven as an old sidewalk.
