My family set out for Australia from the small airport in Harrisburg, PA. Each leg of our journey was incrementally longer than the one that preceded it: two hours to Chicago, four-and-a-half to Los Angeles, then about 15 hours to Sydney.

Shortly after buckling in for the flight to Chicago, I noticed two famous people across the aisle in the row ahead of me. Terry Waite had the aisle seat, and Frederick Douglass sat by the window. 

I swear that every word you are about to read is true.

Terry Waite hasn’t been a fixture in the news for close to twenty-five years, but there was a time when he was the lead story on the evening news for days at a time. There was a time when many in the world were praying for his safety and for whatever faint hope there might be for his safe return to his family.

Terry Waite was a holy man, but not a priest. As an assistant to the Archbishop of Canterbury, and his special envoy, Mr. Waite had risked his life in multiple journeys to Middle East hot spots like Iran and Libya. There he successfully negotiated the release of a about a dozen hostages held by a variety of captors and organizations in the 1980s.

On January 27, 1987 Terry Waite disappeared. He had recently arrived in Beirut, Lebanon to negotiate the release of additional hostages. Nothing was heard of his whereabouts, although it was generally assumed that he was now a hostage. No person or group claimed his capture. As silence prevailed over days, then weeks, then months, then years, hope for his release or recovery dimmed.  No one on the outside knew this, but his captors held him in solitary confinement for three years, a period during which he worked out a tedious process for communicating with the prisoner in the next cell by tapping out letters on the wall. One tap for A, two taps for B, etc. After 1,760 days in captivity, he was released. England and the rest of the world world rejoiced. Perhaps some of those prayers had been answered.

Frederick Douglass was born a slave. His mother was a slave. He knew his father had been white, but that was all. While living in Baltimore, he escaped at the age of 20 and made his way by steamboat and train to safety and freedom in New Bedford, MA. Douglass had learned to read as a youngster, and he continued his education in New Bedford. At the age of 23, after delivering one of his first lectures in support of abolition, one attendee noted: “Flinty hearts were pierced, and cold ones melted by his eloquence.” Douglass gained world-wide renown as a prominent abolitionist, a brilliant writer and an enthralling speaker. He shared his concerns and candid opinions about the treatment of black troops with Abraham Lincoln in the White House in 1863. Frederick Douglass died in 1895.  Like Terry Waite, Douglass devoted a significant portion of his life to the release of captives who were held unjustly.

As the passengers exited our plane in O’Hare Airport, Waite and Douglass walked off together, deep in jovial conversation. To anyone with a middling interest in world affairs and American history, Waite – with his massive frame and rumpled beard – and Douglass with his eruption of hair – were unmistakable. Just after entering the terminal they slapped shoulders, shook hands, and Frederick Douglass headed off to the baggage area.

After a quick lunch, my wife, two kids and I walked to the gate for our flight to L.A. Terry Waite was sitting at the same gate, waiting to board that same flight. Close up in person he appeared to be every bit as large and as kind as his legend.

That was a period in my career when I flew more than a hundred times a year. For a sales person, I’m remarkably anti-social, especially when I’m on a plane. I don’t want to hear your story, and I sure as heck don’t want to tell you mine. Please just leave me alone in my zone of indifference. But, I thought, if there was ever a seatmate I’d be interested in speaking with, it would be a man like Terry Waite.

As we boarded and my family spread into our seats, I ended up with my customary aisle seat – right across the aisle from Terry Waite. This was potentially my chance for a dream conversation. The only problem was that I didn’t have any idea what I might possibly bring to the discussion. (I’ve studied the lives of Abraham Lincoln and Winston Churchill, but hey, I’m a software salesman).

About thirty minutes into the flight, Terry Waite caught my eye from across the aisle, and started a conversation with me. He had noticed my family, and we talked for an hour about my son and daughter, and his five kids. It was one of the most charmed conversations of my life. There was no doubt that I was in the immediate presence of a man of grace.

Just before we both returned to our books I commented: “Of course I know who you are. I just have to tell you – that guy you walked off the plane with in Chicago looked just like Frederick Douglass.” His face lit up as he told me: “He was Frederick Douglass.” Actually, his former seatmate was a performer who had spun his amazing resemblance into a career of one-man shows about the life and accomplishments of the famed abolitionist and communicator. Terry Waite said their conversation had been fascinating. I can only imagine.

That day’s journey for Terry Waite ended in Los Angeles. As we were leaving the plane, for some reason I gave him my business card. (Hey, I’ve studied the lives of Abraham Lincoln and Winston Churchill, but I’m a software salesman). He didn’t have a card so he gave me a warm handshake.

The next day, after our family landed in Sydney and made our jet lagged way to the apartment that my wife had rented, I logged into my email. In the midst of the notes from family, colleagues and customers there was a note from Terry Waite, telling me that he hoped our Australia leg went well, and that he wished the best for me and my family. I felt his grace once again.

As for the Frederick Douglass impersonator, I didn’t catch his name. It’s been close to twenty years since that day. I’m not sure if he’s still at it with his one-man show. But if he is, I’m sure he’s doing an amazing job and is getting recognized more and more, not just by me and Terry Waite.

Originally posted to LinkedIn on February 5, 2017