I spend most of my time in LAX Limbo shuffling in and out of the Tom Bradley International Terminal, so it was a surprise and a secret delight to debarked an Alaska Airlines flight from Seattle and find myself en route to baggage claim in a hallway lined with memories.
The tiled corridors in terminals 4 through 7 were, before the massive upgrades prior to the 1984 Olympics, the sole passageways from the counters to the gates, and from the gates to baggage claim. Repeated remodels and upgrades over thirty years have almost erased the original architecture of the classic jet-age airport, and with it a piece of our past.
Yet for the time being at least, these corridors remain, and as I walked along this one one Thursday in May, it filled with men in suits and hats women in dresses, and I held my father’s hand again as we finished another trip to visit my grandma Leah in San Francisco.
I wanted to linger. But the end of the hallway and the 21st century beckoned me out of my 1969 reverie.