Delta Dash: How Delta Airlines Saved Christmas 1994

There is a reason I am an American Express Platinum Delta SkyMiles Card Member and it's not just because of the Biscoff cookies Delta sparingly hands out on morning flights.

My parents are from different states. I always thought that was normal, but it turns out, most significant others meet fairly close to home.

As a Chicago native, my mother traded in her Bears for the Browns and the Cubs for the Indians (yes, World Series 2016 was an interesting time for us) to move to Cleveland for my dad.

Our house may have been in #theCLE, but holidays were spent in Chicago.

Let me take it back to 1994. I am five and it is Christmas. This was the first holiday (but not the last) that my parents almost got divorced to keep my childhood dreams alive.

As any believer knows, you must write to Santa to tell him what you want. Again, another parenting tool to make kids work on their penmanship and understand the novelty of a hand-written note, but when you’re a kid on the road, you also use your letter to tell Santa your holiday whereabouts.  As any concerned, materialistic kindergartner, I wrote my letter and then hounded my parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles, and basically anyone who would listen for their assurance that Santa knew I was in Chicago.

After various pacifications, including a correspondence letter between my grandma and Santa that proved he knew I’d be in the Windy City, I believed the big man would 100 deliver. Low and behold he did, in the form of my Aunt Jane and Delta Airlines.

Below is a how my parent’s Christmas Eve transpired and further proof that being a parent/spouse is v. hard. Props Mom and Dad.

Step 1. Arrive in Chicago in my parent’s 1993 Cutlass

Step 2. Drop Ashley off at grandparent’s while parents go on Chicago errands (probably Portillo’s for hotdogs or Fannie Mae for chocolate).

Step 3: This conversation:

Mom: “Wow, John, you did a great job packing the car; I didn’t even see the Santa presents.” This was meant as a genuine compliment.

Dad: “I packed everything you told me to pack.” Said while driving, hands locked on wheel, eyes wide on road.”

Mom: “No, really, great job, Ashley couldn’t even see them.”

Dad: “I packed everything you told me to pack.”

Mom: “John, where are the Santa presents?”

Dad: “I packed everything you told me to pack.”

Mom: “You didn’t pack the Santa presents?”

Dad: “I packed everything you told me to pack.”

Way to stay on message, Dad!!

My Santa presents as it turned out had been left at home, well hidden under my dad’s workbench. Woops.

My parents return to my grandparents to manage the crisis.  (I get my crisis management skills from my mom).

They discuss with my grandparent’s and the following concerns are addressed: 1). Beloved grandmamma will look like a massive liar, 2). I would stop believing in Santa, 3). We could potentially miss mid-night mass- a genuine no-go with the same lying Grandma.

Grandma and Ashley- 1994 Christmas Morning. She's smiling because I have no idea what transpired the night before.

This is when my parents noticed my grandfather's mental status may have slipped as he suggested to just “tell the kid the truth.” 

After knocking gramps off his high horse, my parent’s called every mail delivery company you can name: UPS, US Mail, Fed Ex – honestly my mom would have chartered Air Force One if possible, but low and behold this post is called “Delta Dash” for a reason.

My dad had his sister, Jane, (Dad is one of 11 siblings…Irish Catholics), break into our house in Cleveland, snag the goods, drive to the airport, and put my gifts on the last and final flight out from Cleveland to Chicago.

My parents made it to mass, dropped me at the grandparent’s again, and made what they called the Delta Dash to ensure my childhood dreams and their parenting abilities stayed alive.  In 1994, it cost my dad $60.00 to ship everything (that’s like $300 USD now).  When my dad went into Delta to personally thank the team, one of the guys working asked “why in the hell wouldn’t you just say Santa got lost? That’s a lot of money!” My dad responded “It was a helluva lot cheaper than a divorce.”

Now that world, that is love.

But just imagine how they felt when I was a eight and asked if we could consult the Easter Bunny on Santa’s real existence.

The real lesson here team is that the holidays can be stressful, so take a minute, pause, be mindful and you may be able to avoid your own version of Delta Dash, but if not remember you will laugh about this later. It's one of my parent's favorite stories to tell. 

But if not, feel free to open a Delta Amex and list me as your referral so you can save Christmas and I get free miles.

Too cheeky?