Tuesday, January 22, 2002

A couple of weeks ago I was in South Bend Regional Airport (an airport that's changed its name more often than BancOne), embarking on a business trip to Tampa Florida. Anyone who has flown recently is keenly aware of the difference in the general airport atmosphere since September 11, and every trip I take brings a new twist. This was my first trip since Richard Reid attempted a suicide hotfoot over Boston, so, as I was about to learn, things had changed again.

Going through security, I was asked to do the usual: take the laptop out of the case, remove any and all metal, take off my coat, and oh yes, take a swig of that coffee to prove it wasn't some kind of poison, explosive or other contraband. I made it through the metal detector, but then I was specially selected to sit down at the end of the conveyor and take off my shoes. A security woman wiped around the inside of my spanking new Reeboks with a white paper disk which she placed in a nearby analyzing device. Instantly, an alarm went off, indicating a problem. The security woman announced she'd just gotten an "alarm on shoes." and wondered if she should x-ray them. In the meantime, a couple armed guards in full camoflage moved in, presumably to deal with any bigger trouble from me. (NOTE: I'm a chubby 48 year-old guy, and although I can be something of a curmudgeon, my middle name is not "Big Trouble.") In another few moments, yet another security person, a nice lady from Delta Airlines, came out, examined my ticket, and said "Mr. Dufour, we've found evidence of TNT in your shoes. Do you have any explanation for this?"

After picking my jaw off the floor, I said "NO, I do NOT have an explanation for this." The nice Delta lady continued to ask me questions about where I live, what I do for a living, where I was traveling, and why, etc. Finally, a man with a key to reset the analyzer came over and suggested they retest my shoes individually. This time, the machine detected nothing. The Delta lady smiled and said I was all clear. Still puzzled about why my shoes would have set off the bomb detector, I looked inside one of them, frowning. This made the Delta lady a little nervous until I explained I was just checking them out. "Please, David," she said. "Don't frown at your shoes."

I bring this up not to complain about how I was treated. In fact, everyone at the airport was extremely courteous -- even helpful. It was apparent they didn't see me as a threat, but they had to go through procedures.

But that's really the point. How much time (and money) are airport security personnel required to spend investigating people who are not a threat? Every day, airports are pulling aside little old ladies, pregnant women, and middle-aged porkers like me who don't fit any kind of terrorist profile. I'm not saying it's impossible Grandma Moses could be carrying a bomb in her digitalis. ANYthing's possible. But really; what's the likelihood? We have to deal with a certain amount of risk every day. If granny gets through security without a bomb check, I think I can live with that.

As near as I can tell, the reason airport security spends so much time on us non-threats is because it's not politically correct to follow a profile that would exclude little old ladies. But this doesn't seem to be good law enforcement, particularly since it may allow people like Richard Reid to slip through. In other words, when you CAN narrow down the possibilities, why spend time not doing so?

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