Last time I visited Breckenridge, it was the family Christmas trip of 2006. My sister had New Year’s Eve plans in NYC. The love of my 20s was moving to Germany, and I was adamantly dedicated to returning in time to see him off — dire matters at the age of 23! Then along came Holiday Blizzard, the 4th largest storm in state recorded history.
Father the hero recognized fear in our eyes and quickly booked his darling daughters on the next flight out. Twelve hours in a shuttle van, four flight re-bookings and several jackknifed tractor-trailers later, we pulled into DIA to see the day’s final departure pull away from the gate. After a bit of bonding over a cathartic cry, we slept on the airport floor, alongside many others who also found themselves stranded in Denver.
As I prepare to camp overnight in DIA once again, snuggled into a stiff terminal chair, memories and a singing janitor keep me entertained!