No one says ‘welcome home’ like the families at Salt Lake City International Airport
I hobbled through the Salt Lake City International Airport concourse at 12:22 a.m., feeling less than refreshed. My flight out of JFK had been delayed, twice, and I’d just received a notification on my phone informing me that while I may have arrived in Salt Lake City, my luggage had not. My bag was still all the way across the country, and my hunger, dehydration and exhaustion were propelling me toward emotional meltdown at an alarming speed.
But as my fellow passengers and I exited the concourse, there, behind the security checkpoint, was a large family all dressed in red, white and blue, wearing red, white and blue hats. The mom (I presume) held a sign that read, “Welcome back to the USA, Tanner!” Even the white, fluffy family dog wore a red and white headband with two springs connecting glittery, blue stars. I made eye contact with the dog just as it rested its head on the bench where the family waited to spot Tanner.
And that’s when I broke. Not from the dehydration, hunger, exhaustion or the mystery of the missing bag (though those things certainly loosened the proverbial pickle jar), but from the thought of that white fluffy dog spotting Tanner — jumping up, wagging his tail in the way dogs do that causes their whole backside to wiggle, and running to greet him. I cried thinking of that reunion and remembering the times when the signs had been for me after prolonged periods away from home.
Flying into the Salt Lake City airport usually involves being greeted by at least one welcome committee complete with banners and balloons and phones held high, recording every second. I don’t want to claim that airport homecoming celebrations are unique to Utah, but I do believe we have more of them than most other places and that ours are bigger and louder than all the rest. I believe those two things because our large Latter-day Saint population sends many young men and women on missions for years at a time and because our families tend to be large and loud. So when those missionaries return, it’s a big to-do.
And now the banner waving and balloon holding has extended to every kind of homecoming, not just missions — semesters abroad, long business trips, even a return from vacation if you happen to have an extra celebration-prone family.
These excited displays of welcome homing are so frequent in Salt Lake City that we sent a photographer to the airport on a random Tuesday afternoon to get photos of waiting families. And they got more than enough.
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On a recent flight back to SLC, I sat near a group of returning missionaries. They deplaned just ahead of me, and I walked a few paces behind them through the concourse. When we approached the arrival hall, we were met by a sea of moms, dads, brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, former roommates, and yes, a few family dogs, yelling and clapping and barking (the dogs, anyway) and filming their loved one’s long-awaited return.
I felt as though I had somehow stumbled onto the red carpet of an awards show. The adoring fans ignored me entirely and some even frowned when they spotted me and realized I wasn’t the loved one for whom they were waiting. But I pretended their enthusiasm was for me because I honestly felt like I deserved it. I had just flown with a toddler whose Amazon Fire battery had died 15 minutes into the flight and the airline-issued headphones were too large for his ears, making it a screenless flight that we miraculously survived without any major incidents — a real hero’s journey in my book. So I welcomed the cheers and smiled for the photos that I would probably be in the background of, pretending both were for me and what I had just accomplished.
I believe we all deserve a welcome committee replete with signs and applause when we get back from wherever we’ve gone. Flying is, usually, a harrowing endeavor, often made more harrowing by delays, turbulence, lost luggage, leg room insufficient for a dachshund, other passengers’ sneezes and limited snack options. Arriving at a destination without having an emotional meltdown, or even with having an emotional meltdown, is worth celebrating, even with strangers who have no idea who you are.
And if you’re flying into Salt Lake City, chances are there will be plenty of celebrations right there waiting for you. Sure, the anxious fans may be disappointed to see you instead of their loved ones, you may feel camera shy after hours of travel, and none of the signs will bear your name, but you deserve that applause all the same.
And here you’ll always have it. Whether you are Tanner or a random, luggageless passenger admiring Tanner’s dog.
