“Peculiar traveling suggestions are dancing lessons from God.”
That notion (from Kurt Vonnegut's novel 'Cat's Cradle') sums up my state of mind as U.S. Airways flight from Washington, D.C. arrives at the B concourse at Douglas International Airport in Charlotte, N.C. – a place I hadn't expected to visit as late as noon this very day.
So what happened? It was Wednesday, Feb. 22 and I was headed to Kansas City, but my connecting flight out of Reagan National Airport included a surprise (to me) stop in Charlotte. So I didn't know where we were flying to until I boarded the plane. (There's something that doesn't happen too often.)
But we had an hour, and I'd never been to Charlotte, so off I went to take a quick look at an airport, home to the largest hub for U.S. Airways. It turned out to be a pretty exciting place. The reason? Because, I think, it's a classic example of where the real action takes place in modern commercial aviation. Here we are, venturing into the largest hub of a major U.S. carrier – nearly a hundred gates, hundreds of flights, day in and day out, with tens of thousands of passengers changing planes from all parts of the nation and the rest of the world.
This is where the real action is. It's like a lot of America. New York and Los Angeles are the two cities the world knows about. But where's the busiest airport of all? Atlanta. Where's the biggest railyard? North Platte, Neb. It's the middle of the nation where the real business of America takes place. (In fact, in 2010, Charlotte was the 6th busiest airport in the world, based on traffic movements.)
In Charlotte, my first impression was: Yuck! Strolling off the plane and wading into plane-change pandemonium, the first thing I noticed was the dirt on the low white ceilings. Note to airport officials: for those arriving in the B Concourse, the first impression of Charlotte is provided by grimy low-hanging ceiling tiles. The effect is uninspiring. Looks like they haven't been cleaned since the days when smoking was allowed in airports. I know North Carolina is tobacco country, but even so. Look below: are we in an airport, or the world's longest luggage store?
Slogging to the main terminal, the low ceilings continued, but I was impressed by the sheer activity. With a hundred late-afternoon flights exchanging passengers, the place was just teeming, but no bottlenecks and enough room for the crowds to keep moving. Charlotte is an airport that works. (And what a contrast to Pittsburgh, the hub that U.S. Airways abandoned in 2004 and now looks like a ghost town.)
Things quickly improved as I left the B Concourse, turned right, then hiked up a short ramp that opened up onto the “gallery,” the airport's generously-sized multi-level main hall.
Located behind security, the space acts as a focal point for connecting passengers, with passageways leading out to all five concourses.
Stores and restaurants line the terminal side, while the opposite wall boasts an immense floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the tarmac between the B and C concourses. (From a distance, it vaguely resembles a gigantic jukebox.) Outside was a beehive of ramp activity, with multiple aircraft coming in and pushing back amid a forest of moving tails and take-off rolls on the runways beyond. It's a busy place.
But not too busy. Even as the plane change ballet reached its height, the gallery had a relaxed, calm atmosphere. Everyone seemed clear about where he or she was going. Things moved, even with the place teeming. A shoeshine stand in the passageway to the D and E concourses was the busiest one I think I've seen anywhere, including New York City. It being Ash Wednesday, a Catholic priest was prowling the main terminal, dispensing ashes to travelers between flights. At a mid-terminal bar, toy aircraft circled overheard while a pianist played a jazzed up version of Dave Brubeck's 'Take Five.' Despite the crowds, it wasn't noisy, and so the piano music really carried over the quiet hum.
And here's something you don't see any day. Bathrooms with personal attendants who keep the area clean, dispense sanitizing gel, and even give you little cups of mouthwash or breathmints. Talk about Southern hospitality!
The place is huge, and the concourses were developed in stages, so each has its own character. On a quick trip through the place, I thought the B & C piers, where U.S. Airways mainline flights pull up, seemed the oldest and least ambitious, with their limited views and worn-out interiors. (But with the heavy use they get, I'm surprised that they don't look worse.)
The D Concourse, home of international flights, ends in a cavernous (and surprisingly dark) gate area that tries hard, but has all the ambiance of a bulk shopping club. What saves it somewhat, I think, is the playful gesture of a vintage plane hanging from the rafters right near the gate doors. Now that's the way to arrive or depart in style!
And then there's the E Concourse, where the E apparently stands for 'Endless.' Home to no less than 50 gates and handling U.S. Airways regional service, it snakes on and on at ground level through several lobbies and sub-lobbies, like this one here:
You make a dramatic entrance, descending from the main terminal underneath a replica of a Wright Brothers flying machine. (Kitty Hawk, site of the first powered flight, isn't too far from here.)
You then enter a chain of long corridors that do go on and on. There's apparently a new terminal being built as part of this complex, but I only got as far as a sub-lobby with two further concourses branching off it before it was time to turn back. The signage is unrivaled for clarity:
While there, I stumbled across one of the most delightful scenes I've seen in a U.S. airport. How about this for a great place to watch planes and inspire wonder in flight?
The white rocking chairs were all over the terminal, actually, and I think they do serve to humanize the experience of traveling, even if you don't personally use them.
Weird E Concourse scene: What's with the low suspended ceiling over the walkways, but the open ceiling over the gate areas?
So as I wandered the concourses, I got increasingly positive about Charlotte. Some of it was the details: no loud TVs blasting in gate areas, the right-shaped windows (no dreaded and imprisoning horizontal bars), interesting art, the impressive but not oppressive “gallery” – it all contributed. But it was also the bigness of the place – the crowds, the movement, the sense of being at a true modern crossroads – that lent a lot of energy to the scene. This is where it happens, folks. It's state-of-the-art in modern aviation. These are the turnstyles through which pass the nation. Look at this impressive curved ceiling, with windows providing views to the sky above, at the C Concourse entrance:
And they're not standing still. A fourth runway opened in 2010, and construction of a new international terminal will start this year. The long E concourse will be "disconnected" from the terminal and linked instead by underground walkways and, later, a light rail system.
So those are things to look forward to. In the meantime, how about a few more views of the Gallery area?
And just as I take pleasure in seeing a piece of theater that's done well, I take pleasure with seeing an airline hub that functions as intended, day in and day out, and in a facility that at least makes some gestures to its status as a modern-day cathedral.
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