* If you happened to be in the Memphis, Tenn., airport at around 1:30-1:40 p.m. CST on Feb. 21 you would have witnessed an overweight-out-of-shape-almost-48-year-old man running like a madman.

Why? Because I wanted to make sure Deb and I made our connecting flight from Memphis to Charleston, S.C.

We were delayed in Indianapolis because of the rain, snow, and ice that hit central Indiana last Saturday. So instead of having 45 minutes between flights, we had almost none.

I took off running to make sure they knew we were there, but when I got to Gate B12 as the boarding pass stated, the sign said the flight was to St. Louis.

After a minute or two of trying to find someone from the airline, I located an attendant and she called someone and said it had been moved to Gate 26. As luck would have it, that's all the way to the other end of the terminal.

Off I went. By the time I got there, the plane had just detached from the walkway. Myself, Deb and nine other passengers needed to get on that plane.

It never happened.

It was exactly 1:40 p.m. CST when I arrived, but they said no. How many flights do you know of that leave on time?

The next flight was at 7:20 p.m. CST, and the nice lady assured us that our bags would be on the flight with us.

She was wrong. Our bags were on the 1:40 p.m. flight and made it to Charleston on time.

Go figure!

* When we arrived back to Indianapolis on Tuesday night, Deb and I witnessed something you don't often see.

An elderly man, probably in his mid-80s, was on board. He was in pretty good shape for his age, but when it was time to leave the plane, it was obvious he was going to need help.

A young lady took the time to help him, and after Deb and I asked for a wheelchair for the man, the young lady took her time to help more.

We saw her later near the baggage claim, and then take him outside to wait for a cab.

From what we gathered, the young lady didn't know the man, and he was traveling alone.

As Deb said, God had a reason for that young lady to be sitting next to the elderly man.

* We didn't get a chance to see much of Charleston or Kiawah Island, but what we did see, it was nice.

Joe Hart said he spent a week in Charleston one year when his son Joey was playing for Coastal Carolina in the Southern Conference Tournament. He said Deb and I needed to tour the area, but we didn't get the chance.

It was three days of golf, eating with the team, and back to the motel.

I did notice that the people were friendly, and no one seemed to be in a big hurry.

* And yes, I was sore the next day from running through the airport.