Be careful out there! Readers' travel nightmares

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Liquids, liquids everywhere
On our family's last trip home from visiting The Mouse in Florida, I had a separate bag with our family's toiletries. It was easily slung over my shoulder and I carried it as we went from hotel to car to airport. We got to the airport and used the handy curbside luggage drop off, while making sure to keep our personal carry-ons separate.

We stood in line for 30 minutes to get through security. As we reached the front of our line, of course, they close the security checkpoint and merged us near the back of the other lines. Finally, we put our bags on the conveyer belt and walk through. Almost immediately, the belt stops and one of the security agents holds my shoulder bag up and says "whose bag is this?" Immediately, I realize I've violated the 3-ounce liquid container rule by a lot. I admit it's my bag and explain my stupidity. He was very kind and suggested I run back to the curbside check in and drop the bag off there, or he can rummage through it and pick out the acceptable items, but I would have to toss the rest. I send the rest of my family through security and tell them I'll be right back. I rush all the way back through the airport and out front, only to be told that since the plane would leave in less than an hour I can't drop the bag there. They suggest I see the airline's regular ticket counter, where I am soon told that I can't check any bags in within an hour of the flight's departure. So I head back toward security and stop in the ladies room, where I stand in front of the trashcan and proceed to dump the contents of the bag. Face cleanser, toner, body lotion, face lotion, shampoo, conditioner, shaving cream, makeup remover, nail polish remover, after shave lotion, toothpaste, everything larger than 3 ounces gets dumped.

After I walk away, I realize that a trash can full of bottles might arouse suspician. As I head toward security, I can imagine someone alerting security, them watching the incident on some kind of security camera and tracking me down. I am expecting the tap on the shoulder as I wait in the security line again. I can see my family on the other side looking impatient. Finally, my 2-ounce bottle of perfume in the duffel bag makes it through security and I meet up with the rest of my party so we can run to the tram and make it to our gate. At this point I am practically in tears, but my family is being very understanding. We make it to the gate with no time to spare. After we enter the plane, the flight attendant closes the door and announces to the cabin that "now that the last of our guests has arrived, we are ready to take off." You can imagine the stares and looks and grumbles. I spent the entire flight looking down, not daring to look anyone in the face. Needless to say, we were all ecstatic when the plane finally landed and we could just go home. Of course, I spent that afternoon at the store replacing all of my 'trashed' items.
— Andrea King, Chesapeake, Va.

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Toddler or terrorist?
The Christmas after 9/11 my daughter — who was a baby at the time — and I had to fly home from Seattle to San Jose after visiting family. In the airport I changed her clothes from the warmer ones needed in Seattle to pair of light pajamas that were form fitting. I also changed her diaper so that I wouldn't have to do it in flight.

Unfortunately we were randomly selected to undergo additional screening procedures. The full impact of 9/11 on my life didn't hit me until we were at the gate and two armed security guards were holding my screaming 14-month-old baby spread-eagle on a table while they frisked her and went over her with a metal detector four times. I don't know where they thought she was hiding her explosives, but they seemed pretty certain that she was carrying something. ... The funny thing about it was that they didn't even search me that accurately. They glanced through my purse and only went over me with the metal detector once. They didn't even frisk me. I don't think I have ever been so upset in my life.
— Rachel Sessum, Seattle

A happy ending
I needed to get to Kansas City quickly. I flew America West. The End.
James Call, Glendale, Ariz.

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