It had been a seamless trip to Syracuse, for the New York Spring Dairy Carousel. Our air travel experience was easy, our time at the show was fun and the weather was perfect.

It was 80 sunny degrees on that Monday afternoon while we sat at a picnic table outside the coliseum watching exhibitors load up their cattle and head for home. Our flight wasn’t leaving until that evening and we had some time to kill, so my daughter, my son’s girlfriend who had driven up from Philly and I were spending an extravagant few hours together talking, laughing and taking lots of selfies.

When it came time to depart, we said our goodbyes and headed back to the airport. We had an extra passenger this time – an old friend and Holstein breeder from southern Michigan just happened to be going home on the same flight, so we all traveled together.

We arrived at the airport, went through security and enjoyed a bite to eat before our flight. All situated on the plane, we were told we were going to wait for three passengers who were just going through security. I thought that was considerate of our flight crew, but soon found not every flight crew is that kind.

We waited and we waited and we waited. The longer we waited the more I began to worry, because we had a connecting flight to make in Newark. We only had 40 minutes to get off one plane and get on another plane to Detroit.

As I worried in my head, our friend worried out loud and began to voice his concern to the flight attendant. She assured us we would make the connection. And then we waited some more.

The lagging passengers arrived, we closed the door and went on our way only to wait longer on the tarmac. By this time we knew our chances were slim for making our connection, but somehow I knew it was going to happen and I would be sleeping in my own bed that night.

 We landed in Newark and the pilot came over the loudspeaker saying we were 15 minutes early. Seriously? Because according to my boarding pass, we were supposed to have landed 20 minutes earlier.

We rushed off the plane and literally ran through Newark airport. We had 15 minutes before departure. As we ran I kept thinking, They will wait for us. After all, we waited in Syracuse for the other passengers.

I felt like we ran from San Francisco to the Jersey shore before we finally reached the gate where the agent had closed the door and was finalizing the flight. All he had to say was, “Nope, that flight is already leaving,” before all heck broke loose. Our friend, who is known to be a little hot-headed, was not happy.

In seconds, his blood pressure was through the roof, he was screaming at the gate agent and somewhere in between “You’re gonna have to stop that airplane so we can get on!” and  “Go ahead, call security, I’ll take them on too!” I realized they didn’t wait for us – and it was time to back away from the scene and find customer service.

Explaining our entire sob story about waiting on the tarmac, running through the airport and not having my makeup or my toiletries in my carry-on, I was handed vouchers for a hotel and meals and booked on the first flight to Detroit in the morning.

As we walked away to find the shuttle bus, I could hear my friend still standing at the counter threatening every person who worked for United Airlines, and I was pretty sure that come morning I would be bailing him out of jail.

The next morning in the hotel lobby, there he was, drinking a cup of coffee, waiting for the shuttle as if nothing had ever happened. We looked at each other and busted out laughing – no bruises, no jail time, just a hot cup of coffee and a great story to tell his grandchildren.

Our flight home was uneventful, and as I flopped in bed that night I vowed I would never trust a flight attendant, I would never fly to Syracuse and I would never fly without my makeup and toiletries again.

The views and opinions expressed in this column are those of the author and not necessarily those of Farm World. Readers with questions or comments for Melissa Hart may write to her in care of this publication.