The Police Aren't Coming, But If They Do — Prepare to Get Paid

It may be shocking to learn that airlines routinely threaten disabled passengers with arrest — here's how to respond if it happens to you.

Sitting in an empty cabin onboard AA245, Boeing 777-300ER service from Rome, Italy to New York-JFK.

Yesterday, I flew from Rome, Italy to New York’s John F. Kennedy International Airport aboard American Airlines flight AA245. My wheelchair was properly tagged to be returned to the gate in New York, and I also had my own Return Wheelchair To Aircraft Door tag affixed to the wheelchair. These are usually more than enough to inform (and remind) airline personnel of what needs to be done with the mobility device.

That wasn’t the case in New York, where ramp agents ignored those labels and delivered my wheelchair to the customs hall instead.

When the assistance contractors boarded the airplane, they informed me that I would have no choice but to collect my wheelchair at baggage claim. That’s a clear violation of the Air Carrier Access Act rule, which states that wheelchairs must be returned “as close as possible to the door of the aircraft, so that passengers may use their own equipment to the extent possible.” This is a civil right that I never allow to be compromised — it’s a matter of safety, dignity and independence.

I immediately asked to speak with a Complaint Resolution Official. CROs work for airlines, but the position is regulated by the DOT. They are supposed to be experts in the Air Carrier Access Act, and their job is to resolve issues disabled airline passengers experience during travel. When the CRO does his/her job properly, they will ensure that a disabled passenger’s rights are upheld.

While I waited for the CRO to turn up, assistance staff and flight attendants continued to state that “it is not possible” to return wheelchairs to the jet bridge at New York-JFK. That is a lie, of course. One flight attendant even referenced her decades of experience and said, “it has never been done” — that’s funny, since I have never received my wheelchair anywhere but the jet bridge at JFK Airport, whether flying American Airlines or any other carrier, foreign or domestic. “Trust me,” I said, “you’ll see that I am right.”

In the meantime, I made my position clear: In the United States, where gate delivery of wheelchairs is a civil right, I refuse to disembark until my wheelchair is returned to the aircraft door, no matter how long it takes. That ruffled the feathers of the lead flight attendant who, in an aggressive and surly manner, told me that I needed to deplane so the cabin crew could leave. The environment became tense and hostile, but the temperature was cooled by the flight attendant responsible for my section of the cabin, who became an advocate for me (thank you, Krystal!).

Next to approach was the gate agent, who I hoped would improve the situation but most certainly did not. Like others, he parroted the line that I could only receive my wheelchair at baggage claim. I held the line and rejected the false claim. He then leveled a threat — that he would call the police to remove me from the aircraft. My response was simple but direct, “Call them.”

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It’s important for me to state that, while this particular incident occurred on an American Airlines flight, many other carriers have made the same threat in similar circumstances — not taking the return of gate-checked wheelchairs seriously is an industry problem that requires retraining at every level of every airline.

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Would police remove me if called? No doubt. But that would have resulted in a David Dao situation — the doctor dragged off a United Airlines plane at the behest of the carrier, who later reached an “amicable settlement” with the airline for an undisclosed sum. Probably millions. Never travel without a camera.

Image courtesy Port Authority Police Benevolent Association.

The threat of arrest leads most disabled passengers to cave in and surrender their civil rights. Readers of this website have reported similar experiences with many different airlines. But challenging an airline to follow-through with that threat — asking police to drag an immobile and disabled person off of an airplane — well, that requires a bit more thought and (always, insofar as I can tell) leads to a reality check.

When I made my commitment clear, I am certain the gate agent’s thought process shifted from “the wheelchair can’t be returned” and “get this guy off the plane now” to “wow, is he actually right about this?”

That shift in thinking became clear to me within minutes of the initial threat and my decision to stand (or sit?) firm as the gate agent began making calls — not to the police, but to airline personnel. His mission changed from threatening me to sorting out the return of my wheelchair (why wasn't that the original goal?).

About 10 minutes later, the Complaint Resolution Official arrived and opened with what I considered to be a sincere apology. I brought him up to speed on what I had experienced, alleged violations of the ACAA, and he agreed that I had an absolute right to receive my wheelchair at the door of the aircraft.

Last night, I received an email from the CRO I had spoken with, in which the incident was (partially) documented and the carrier admitted in the record that a civil rights violation had occurred — specifically, that there had been a failure to promptly return my wheelchair to the aircraft door. I was also told to expect a call from customer relations, presumably to receive some form of compensation (what do you think is appropriate?).

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While I had previously covered how airlines have trained complaint resolution officials to break the law and be useless, American has since updated its CRO training (which I absolutely will take credit for) and employees follow-through with the dispositive written statements required by ACAA regulations. This doesn’t mean every CRO is great or an ally, but the situation has improved dramatically.

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Ultimately, my wheelchair was returned to the aircraft door after the protracted standoff. The CRO intervened and set things straight. As I deplaned, one of the flight attendants commented on how I had been “right after all.” I didn’t say this, but thought it — of course I’m right, I’ve taken nearly 1,200 flights with a power wheelchair!

The lesson here is this — If you want your mobility device returned to you, do not get off the airplane until your wheelchair has been delivered to the aircraft door!

This is not legal advice (I am not an attorney), but I would be willing to bet that U.S. airlines have not and will not call the police on a disabled passenger waiting on his/her wheelchair (I can’t find evidence that they ever have) — and you probably won’t be arrested.

And again, this is not legal advice, but if police are called you don’t need to physically “resist” arrest in order to be dragged off an airplane — not if you’re a wheelchair user who cannot walk. The police may end up carrying or dragging you off the plane, at the airline’s request and against your will, but that would just be the cherry on top of a slam dunk Air Carrier Access Act violation (in my view).

In the words of Rod Tidwell, the fictional NFL wide receiver played by Cuba Gooding Jr. in the 1996 film Jerry Maguire, “Show me the money!” It’s one of my favorite movie scenes of all time, and my conversation with attorneys would go just like that if I were dragged off of an airplane.

On a much happier note — I had a fantastic European tour and will be sharing stories from my recent travels to Liechtenstein and Rome in next week’s newsletter. The new wheelchair accessible travel guide to Fort Wayne, Indiana will be published next week. I quickly fell in love with Fort Wayne and have already called the “hidden gem” on my 2024 travel map.

Have a great weekend!

—John