A Lesson in TSA Bag Locks

I'd been waiting nearly eight hours, but those last 20 minutes or so were the most difficult to endure.

My wife's flight from Phoenix to Honolulu had been delayed - twice - and so far, our move to Oahu had been more challenging than expected. I had gotten to the island two weeks before her, picked up the car at the port, rented an apartment and started my job; none of which was anywhere near smooth. The Matson ship that was delivering our belongings from the mainland to the island was expected to be delayed at least a week longer than expected, and my wife had just spend almost an entire day waiting for her plane to take off.

I stood next to my silver Volkwagen Jetta underneath the "Arrivals" sign at Honolulu International Airport, having driven several loops around the airport's parking lot after security staff had bellowed, "you can't wait here, sir." It was at least 20 minutes past the time my wife should have been out on the curb with her bags, and since I was just on a short break from my new job, I didn't have much time to spare.

And I was getting pretty worried.

I was contemplating just leaving the car and heading inside to see if I could determine the flight status when she came walking out through the electronic doors. Bawling.

I was in shock, and she was crying too hard to tell me what was wrong. She held up her large, black suitcase to reveal the outer pocket flopped open, hanging on by the stitching at the bottom, the entire zipper track ripped.

"What was in the pocket?" I asked.

"All my jewelry," she choked out.

I immediately understood. Her jewelry collection consisted almost entirely of sentimental pieces given to her by family members, each imbued with a specific memory.

And it appeared that someone had busted off the travel lock and stolen the entire jewelry pouch.

It was our "welcome to Hawaii" moment, or so we thought.

She had already filed the necessary paperwork with the Hawaiian Airlines customer service department, and a friendly, sympathetic lady assured my wife the airline would be in contact if they found out anything at all. But we knew it wasn't likely we'd hear anything.

I felt devastated. Instead of a joyous rendezvous in paradise, my wife and I drove to our new apartment, each wondering silently if we'd just made a huge mistake in packing up and moving to the islands.

An hour or so later, I suggested we unpack her bags. She agreed, reluctantly, and set to opening up her bags. I heard her gasp in surprise a couple of minutes later, and I turned to see her holding up her jewelry bag.

It had been shoved, haphazardly, inside the suitcase's main compartment. We were both confused, until we found a small note on TSA letterhead marked "bag inspected."

Turned out the bag lock that we thought had been TSA-friendly was, indeed, not. The inspector had broken the lock to get into the bag's outer pouch, and in the process, ripped off the entire zipper. We called the airline to explain what had happened and to see if there was any way to get reimbursed for our damaged luggage.

There wasn't.

We were left with a fairly expensive lesson, with a need to purchase a new suitcase, but neither my wife nor I minded too much, since we realized how much worse it could have been. Before traveling back to the mainland to visit family, we bought a set of new TSA bag locks. And even though it meant a little extra time spent at the security checkpoint, my wife stashed her jewelry in her purse, which she kept close by during our flight.

Before you lock up your bags and head to the airport, make sure the locks meet TSA standards, or you might find yourself in a similar scenario.