A shocking sight from on high

Posted: Thursday, September 22 at 07:03 pm CT by Bob Sullivan

HOUSTON -- There were audible gasps as our Continental flight skimmed over Houston just before landing.  The traffic jams covering every route out of the city were staggering, cars lined up all the way to the horizon, like spokes of a bicycle wheel that's not spinning.

The great escape from Houston was on, and we -- Andrew, myself and an airliner full of people wondering why they were dropping into the city everyone else seemed to be leaving.

Crowds wait in line at security to depart the Houston airport during the afternoon of Sept. 22. (Andrew Locke / MSNBC.com)

Many people on Continental Flight 223 from Seattle to Houston were forced into the city to make a connection, a bout of bad luck. The luck got worse when traffic snarled the runways, and a 5-minute taxi turned into 20 minutes. 

Tensions mounted as many passengers faced the prospect of missing their connecting flights and getting marooned in Houston.

Valerie Carbo, who was trying to make her way home to Memphis, called the airline a dozen or more times on Wednesday but couldn't get through -- the line was busy. So she figured she'd risk flying through the city under siege. Now she was already too late for her flight.

"I don't know what will happen then," she said.

Flight attendants also fretted about getting out of town in time; many aren't guaranteed a seat and must hope for an empty "jump seat." 

"I'll just take a flight to anywhere, the first one I can get out of here," said one. 

The flight -- and the flight attendant's day -- had begun at 1 a.m. in Anchorage. When the pilot took off from Seattle for Houston, he casually indicated that visibility was 10 miles in the destination city and the weather was sunny and comfortable.

"For now," someone said. There was nervous laughter.

There was a rumor that traffic around Houston was so bad some airport workers couldn't make it in. Whether or not that was true, the snakes of people trying to get through security at lunchtime looked almost as imposing as the spokes of highways headed out of town.

"Where are you headed," Carbo asked me, shocked that Andrew and I were staying put in Houston, planning to ride out the storm here. We're here to see if Rita is as bad as Katrina, I told her. 
She understood. Her husband's family owned a house in New Orleans that was destroyed. She has cousins staying with her in Memphis whom she's never even met.

It seems no one in this part of the country hasn't been hit by Katrina; everyone has a story. 
Could something like that possibly happen again? 

People in the reported 100-mile traffic jams -- the great escape from Houston -- weren't willing to stick around and find out.

ESCAPING THE ESCAPE

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