The Great Florida Airport Fiasco

Memorial Weekend has always been earmarked for the Florida Chapter of the Camperdown High School Past Students’ Association (CASFLO) celebrations, and the 2026 edition was well anticipated because we were looking forward to celebrating our 25th anniversary. I was especially anticipating this year’s edition because I had missed the last two. I usually try to be free for that weekend, as well as a few days before and after.

I received a call from Noel, who resides in Jamaica. He said he was traveling to “Miami” on May 21st and would take an Uber to the hotel. I told him in no uncertain terms that such a thing would not be tolerated and that I was available to pick him up at the airport. Silber, who lives in Canada, also called with his flight details; he was slated to land at the Fort Lauderdale–Hollywood International Airport (FLL) on May 21st, and I told him that I was available to pick him up as well.

Silber’s pickup was seamless. I took him to buy food after he landed. We both ate, and then I took him to the hotel to check in. While on the road, I was called to see if I could pick up two other passengers who were on the same flight as Noel, to which I obliged. Noel called to confirm that I was asked to accommodate two more passengers, as well as to inform me that the flight was delayed and his new arrival time was 11:40 p.m. He called again to say that the flight was further delayed to 1:06 a.m.

I returned home to rest after dropping off Silber and was up and ready to go by 12:15 a.m. I left home and arrived at MIA at approximately 1:00 a.m. Soon afterward, Noel texted to say that he had landed. He then called at 1:47 a.m. to say that he had cleared immigration, but there was a delay with the other members of his traveling party and that he would let me know when they were out.

Because the airport was relatively scanty at that hour of the morning and curbside parking was available in abundance, I decided to drive down to the terminal so that I would be right there when they were ready. I Googled JetBlue to get the terminal number at MIA and was greeted with the puzzling result that JetBlue doesn’t have a terminal at MIA because the airline has ceased all operations and flights out of that airport.

My mind went into overdrive, and I quickly looked at the two screenshots I had earlier sent to Noel showing the flight status. Lo and behold, both had the destination listed as FLL. How on earth did I miss that? I left the airport, put pedal to the metal, and arrived at FLL at 2:16 a.m. I parked at Terminal 3 and saw Noel inside. I went in to meet Noel and my two other passengers, but there was a fourth person who was having a bit of an issue.

Peter, the fourth person, had reserved a rental car when he booked his flight from Jamaica and was having issues figuring out how to retrieve it. He was also slated to retrieve a key for his accommodation for the weekend, but because roaming for his phone on the Jamaican network wasn’t activated, he was having difficulties with both tasks. The instructions to retrieve his rental vehicle stated that he should wait by the curb for a shuttle to transport him to the rental car hub, but since he was having data issues and would not have access to make the call to retrieve his key or use navigational services, we decided to all pile into the Camry—luggage and all—and I would take him to the rental car pickup.

Getting to that location was easy enough. It is located over by the parking garage, and we were there in less than five minutes. We drove in, exited the vehicle, and looked around for one of the customer service representatives, but none was in sight. We checked the two sentry boxes on site, but they were unoccupied.

Peter and I decided to enter the building where the service desks for all the car rental companies were located. They were all occupied with lengthy queues except our desk, which looked abandoned and lonely. We approached the Budget Car Rental service desk, which had a small queue. We did a stutter step, then made a beeline to the front as they had just finished assisting a customer. We could feel eyes peering through our backs as we skipped the line to inquire about our rental car company.

The Budget representative told us that our particular car rental company usually closed early and that he hadn’t seen anyone there in quite a while. We exited the building and went back to the parking garage to see if we had a better outcome. By this time, Noel and my two other passengers had tried to get information from the representatives of the other companies but without success. One person looked at us blankly, as if we were speaking a different language—and it seems we were.

We concluded, and were in agreement with Peter, that we would leave and he would return later that day to pick up his rental car. We all piled back into the car to leave the car park, but we soon realized that we had a major issue. They had parked the cars in such a way that all the spaces were blocked off, including the exit, which had an SUV parked directly across it. The only open area we could drive through was the entrance, but it had a one-way traffic spike across it.

Our world came crashing down, as it seemed we were locked in without any way out. The crew of four Red and Blue soldiers and an “Age Animo” princess—who is married to one of the Red and Blue—banded hands and hearts together as we scoured the parking lot for a solution. This also involved continuing conversations with staff from other car rental companies. Unfortunately, after speaking with employees from the other companies, we still didn’t have a viable option.

Our world came crashing down, as it seemed we were locked in without any way out. The crew of four Red and Blue soldiers and an “Age Animo” princess—who is married to one of the Red and Blue—banded hands and hearts together as we scoured the parking lot for a solution.

We eventually used our collective grandparents’ favorite Jamaican proverb: “Tun yuh han’ mek fashion.” (When caught in a difficult situation, one tends to improvise and use whatever resources are available to rectify the situation.)

It is at this point I should say: Kids, don’t try this at home!

After contemplation and deliberation, we decided to use two of the signicades found in the parking lot as a makeshift bridge. The plan was to place the signs over the traffic spikes so we could drive over them. We held our collective breath as I navigated the car onto the signs and over the spikes. We were able to drive over the traffic spikes without damaging the tires.

We blew a collective sigh of relief, piled back into the car, and drove off while sharing a bout of laughter. After the laughing and excited chatter died down, I declared to the group that I had a confession to make. I told them of my earlier drama of driving to the Miami International Airport to pick them up before realizing my mistake and speeding back to the Fort Lauderdale–Hollywood International Airport. Of course, there was another bout of howling and laughter.

We then drove cautiously to our destination without further incident.

In closing: Public Service Announcement for my non-Floridian friends: Fort Lauderdale is not Miami, and Miami is not Florida. Please stop using them interchangeably. Both Miami and Fort Lauderdale are cities, 30 miles apart. Florida is the entire state that contains both cities. And to my fellow chauffeurs, please clarify before hitting the road. If I had taken that into consideration when volunteering for pick-up duties, I would have saved myself an unexpected late-night dash from MIA to FLL.