It disappeared from the overhead baggage compartment between Raleigh and Chicago.
The missing black leather jacket was a Christmas present from Karen, so disclosing it was missing carried the very real possibility of creating a bit of marital discord. She has long since given up on lost wedding rings, but losing the jacket?
Checking with the airline staff at O’Hare did not have the desired result, that being: “Oh yes! Here it is! It was turned in just a few minutes ago by a man who said he was so sorry to have snatched the jacket thinking it was his.”
Five days later, following a round of golf, my much smarter than I am cell phone told me I had a call that turned out to be from the lost and found office at the Raleigh/Durham airport (RDU). I returned the call, eagerly worked through a thick Spanish accent, drove to the correct building at the airport (which turned out to be the airport police building), and retrieved my jacket from a beaming receptionist. Good thing they discovered my crumpled old business card in the jacket pocket.
Sure. It shows up in 75-degree North Carolina, not in 40-degree Chicago April wind, my blood having thinned considerably from 22 years in Wake Forest and daily doses of blood thinner to ward off the unwelcome effects of atrial fibrillation.
Have to wonder where my jacket went and how it got back to Raleigh. The nice lady that called me had left for the day, the receptionist had no answers, and RDU is not on my regular route. Among the never to be answered questions: who found it, where did it go while it was missing, and why did it take 5 days to come back?
We’re both happy it now hangs in the front closet, ready for the next round of chilly weather. Probably December.