An American Worker in London
Saturday, January 03, 2004
Airport Checkpoints
With all the media attention on increased security at LAX, I wondered how this departure would differ from my previous 3 trips.
My driver was on time, as always, and being Saturday, traffic was light. We left the house at 2:00 PM and arrived at the airport at 2:45 PM.
The first thing I observed was a set of checkpoints on the terminal approach road. Taxis, buses, commercial vehicles (like my town car) were permitted through after a momentary pause and brief look at the occupants. Other vehicles were routed to a different road, but my driver didn't know where they ended up.
I paid the driver at the curb and discovered that the Virgin Atlantic checkin line extended all the way to the spot where I was standing. That was unusual; normally the line forms inside, so I was a bit concerned about delays here.
Once I reached the half-way point of the line, I encountered a Virgin employee, who asked about my carryon bags and placed tags on the two I was going to take with me. Right after her, another security person was reviewing passports and flight itineraries and adding "security" stickers to the backs of the passports. Since he didn't display any ID badge, I asked to see his, and he showed me that it was hanging on his belt behind his jacket. Why should I show my passport to just anyone, even if he does have the security stickers? I don't think he was amused that I asked to see his ID, but that's just too bad. He should have worn it on the outside of his coat.
I was at the checkin counter within 20 minutes, maybe a little more, and wheeled my bags to the X-ray screening line, where I waited another 5 minutes. Not bad, so far. After handing off my one checked bag to a TSA employee, and answering questions about guns, film, and fireworks (in that order), I went to a 3rd line, where I waited to learn if my bag needed hand inspection. Evidently it didn't, since it was marked with the usual TSA orange tag and placed in a corner, presumably for routing to the airplane. No one told me that my bag was "clear", but when they shouted out other passengers' names, told them they were clear, and put their bags with mine, I figured it was OK to leave.
There was a checkpoint to exit the ticketing area, manned by an elderly person, and he reviewed my boarding pass thoroughly. A few feet away, at the foot of the escalators, another person was looking at boarding passes, so I showed my paperwork to her. At the top of the escalators, a third person was waiting to review my boarding pass, and I wondered how effective this was, but had to consider that some people may have changed IDs or become different persons while in transit up the escalator. You never know. A Star Trek transporter kind of thing...
The security screening lines began about 50 feet away from the top of the escalators, and a TSA employee was there to inspect my boarding pass and passport. Sure enough, I was still the same person, and I had seen 5 previous people to confirm it. I was pleasantly surprised to see that not a single person was in line for the screening, so I walked up to the first machine and sent my bags through. (On my last trip, the Saturday after Thanksgiving, it took 45 minutes to get through this line.)
They let me exit the screening area without proving I was the same person, even though I walked through the big magnet, which could have changed my DNA or something. But since it didn't detect any metal on my body, perhaps I was unchanged as well.
The gate areas in this terminal are very close to the security screening area, so I made it to Gate 27 within a few minutes. There, I found a new set of checkpoints, where a Virgin Atlantic employee was reviewing boarding passes and passports, and other people were inspecting the carryon luggage. Since the flight was scheduled to leave in 2 hours, I retraced my steps to a different gate area and found seating so I could read for an hour or so.
Finally, it was time to get in the boarding area, so I passed through the Virgin Atlantic screening without any problem. I waited about 30 minutes for the boarding process to begin, and when it was finally my turn to board, I once again showed my passport and my boarding pass to the gate agents. They gave me the smaller portion of the boarding pass and sent me down the jetway. While waiting in line there, I put the small boarding pass receipt in my wallet, since it goes with my expense data at a later time. I knew where I was sitting (43C), so it was unnecessary to hold this in my hand as a reminder. When I reached the doorway of the plane, however, I could not proceed until I dug this out of my wallet and showed it to the flight attendant. I suppose there was the chance that I had morphed into a different person while navigating the 100-foot-long jetway.
Within a few more minutes I was in my seat and hoped that no additional checkpoints would emerge until I landed. Thankfully, I was rewarded with quiet seatmates who didn't hog the arm rest and never asked me to get up so they could walk around or use the lavatory. Everyone basically slept after dinner until breakfast, which meant my row got about 6 hours of solid sleep.
But checkpoints? While I applaud the efforts of LAX security, Virgin Atlantic, and others to make sure we are the real passengers, I cannot imagine how this many checkpoints added to our safety. I am all too aware that these so-called security measures are mostly for show and have been implemented to prevent any blame being placed on them if a passenger managed to take over a plane with fingernail clippers (which are allowed, and which I carried with me). Any serious terrorist will find a way around these annoying and ineffective security procedures. Hey, they probably watch the same action movies I do, so they could figure this one out pretty easily.
Unless I see security personnel inspecting the undersides of beverage carts with little mirrors, or walking bomb-sniffing dogs through the plane, I can't really believe that we are more secure today than we were 20 years ago. But hey, we are definitely more inconvenienced. Maybe that was the point, or part of it.
