By Kim Horyn
Kim and Rob Horyn’s oldest daughter, Rachel, was diagnosed at one-year-old with cognitive and developmental delays. Four years after her birth, Katherine was born, and 16 months later, Will joined the family. Katherine and Will are very close, and they adore their older sister. Rachel, now 34 years old, was raised in Nantucket, Massachusetts, and currently lives in a group home and attends a day program on Cape Cod.
Once Rachel graduated from the special school in New Hampshire and moved to her group home on the Cape, we told the group home manager that we’d like her to fly to Nantucket once a month for visits, and we would see her as well whenever we were on the Cape. We felt like the boat was not ideal because it’s a one-hour excursion, and she could roam around without supervision (very scary thought), whereas on the plane, she is buckled into the seat for 15 minutes. She grew up taking the boat or plane to the mainland, so it would be familiar for her. On the first trip, a group home staff member accompanied her and agreed that Rachel was completely comfortable and knew the drill, so from then on, Rachel flew solo. Her companion would take her to the airport and wait until the flight took off and then be waiting for her on the return end.
I typically would meet her at the airport, and I always had to laugh. The minute they deplaned, Rachel would elbow her way to the airport escort and march beside him to the terminal. Once inside, the other passengers peered around the corner with curiosity and interest to see who would be meeting her, or as I joked, who she came from. After we hugged, she’d chat with the other passengers while we waited for the luggage. “John, have a good visit!” and “Bye, Mary!” to which they’d reply, “Bye, Rachel!” Only Rachel could fly for 15 minutes with strangers and know all their names — and all of them knowing hers by the time they landed.
The plan was that the staff would call me once the plane took off, and I’d head to our little airport, which was 10 minutes from our house. That way I could continue working until I knew she was on the way. This was especially helpful in the summer when the airports were very busy, and planes were often delayed. Understandably, we had a couple snafus, i.e. her companion would accidentally tell me the plane left, but it was the wrong plane.
The latter was the case when Rob and I arrived at the airport one time, and then got the call that her plane hadn’t actually left yet after all. We knew it was easy to get confused when the planes were rolling down the tarmac, one after the other. We decided to go to the restaurant and get coffee while we waited.
We were chatting five minutes later, when someone tapped me on the shoulder, and I turned around to see Rachel standing there with her pull-along luggage, grinning from ear to ear. “Rachel!!! We thought you were on the next plane!” and she laughed good naturedly, very proud of herself. It broke my heart that no one was there to greet her and be with her while she waited for her luggage. We couldn’t believe she had the foresight to look for us in the coffee shop.
On another occasion, her companion forgot to tell us the plane left, and I was so engrossed in work that when I looked at the clock, I realized if the plane was on time, I was going to be late. I rushed to the airport, parked, and sprinted to the terminal.
As I approached the taxi stand, an elderly woman about to get in the taxi asked, “Are you Kim?” Surprised, I paused and said I was and was told, “Rachel’s sitting right inside. We offered to wait with her, but she said her Mom would be coming.” I thanked them and then ran to the door. A handsome young man was exiting, and he asked, “Are you Kim?” (I guess a harried, middle-aged woman running frantically into the airport was a dead give-away). Again I said I was, and he said, “Rachel’s right there waiting for you. I offered to wait with her, but she said she was o.k.” I thanked him and rushed in, and there she was, sitting on a bench, relaxed and smiling at me, with one arm on the extended handle of her pull-along suitcase. I sat beside her and apologized profusely, but she was undeterred. I could have cried.
That incident frightened me. Although many airport personnel — from the rental car and ticket agents to the flight crew and coffee shop staff — knew us, if they were busy they wouldn’t have noticed her. What if she had gone with one of the passengers who weren’t so kind and concerned, or airport security took her into an office to try to figure this out? The idea of arriving and not finding her there was terrifying. Going forward, I erred on the side of caution and set the alarm on my phone, so I was never late again.
Another incident was when I had a work conflict and Rob dropped her off, leaving the airport to get back to work as soon as the plane took off. The pilot detected a problem and turned back around and deplaned the passengers. A friend of ours worked as a ticket agent, and she greeted the passengers to let them know what was going on. When she spotted Rachel, she took her back to sit behind the desk with her and called me. I immediately went out to the airport, and there was Rachel sitting on a tall stool behind the desk as if she was the boss overseeing the employees. Our friend said Rachel was scared about the airplane coming back, but as soon as she heard I was on my way, she relaxed. The break in routine is cause for anxiety for Rachel, not to mention no family member waiting for her.
When I would take Rachel to the airport for her return flight, we’d often go into the restaurant after we checked in for either lunch or her Shirley Temple, depending on the time of day. Larry, the restaurant manager, became a good friend and was fond of Rachel.
One time we arrived at the ticket counter to be informed that due to weather complications, Rachel’s flight was canceled. This happened to be on her birthday, and the group home had planned a party upon her return which she was very excited for. Rachel burst into tears at the news of her canceled flight. I think it was a combination of missing the party and the break in her routine. I assured her the party would be the next day and coaxed her to go into the restaurant for a snack before we headed home. The minute Larry approached us, Rachel started to cry again. He was so concerned, he tried to jolly her out of her mood to no avail. Pretty soon he came back with a chocolate chip cookie, which provoked a tiny, watery smile. Ever since then, they’ve been good buddies.
Often, Rachel would run into acquaintances in the airport, who were on the same flight. There would be lots of hugs and excitement. People are always so flattered that Rachel remembers their names and greets them so warmly and enthusiastically. Rachel would proudly tell them that she flew by herself. “I independent!”
All in all, for the most part, Rachel’s solo flights were very successful. Recently, we talked about possibly going back to the island for a visit. I told her we could spend a day seeing all of her friends, and then I would stay longer so I could see mine. She would fly back, and someone from her staff would meet her at the airport. She grinned and shivered with excitement thinking about another delightful social time at the airport.
