Spirit moved them to height of frustration.

Byline: Dianne Williamson

COLUMN: Dianne Williamson

If I wasn't so irked, I'd be mildly grateful to Spirit Airlines.

Thanks to the airline's user-friendly practice of putting callers on hold until they give up, I was able to get some work done and respond to no less than 25 e-mails Tuesday afternoon while cradling a telephone on my shoulder, waiting 35 minutes to speak to a "customer service" representative as a recorded loop touted the special features of an airline that, as far as I could tell, prohibits you from ever speaking to an actual human being.

I was calling Spirit Airlines to see if anyone cared to respond to Peter Wyman and a story that underscores the careless and indifferent treatment we're coming to expect from the airline industry. When I finally reached a rep from Spirit Airlines, she referred me to their Web site and didn't care a whit that it was no help whatsoever.

This is what Mr. Wyman was dealing with, except that he was trying to find a wheelchair that belonged to his disabled son, a big purple wheelchair that the airline managed to misplace while the family spent a month in Costa Rica. If that wasn't bad enough, Mr. Wyman has yet to receive so much as a "Gee, sorry" from the folks who practically ruined his child's vacation.

"I'm probably the most laid-back person there is," Mr. Wyman said. "I don't sweat the small stuff. But this became bigger than small stuff. This wasn't poor customer service. It was no customer service."

Mr. Wyman is a single dad from Lancaster who has four adopted sons, ages 18 to 4, all with special needs. The most severely disabled is his 13-year-old son Miguel, who is legally blind and has Down syndrome and autism. Miguel travels with the aid of a lightweight Convaid Cruiser that has inflatable wheels and enables his dad to whisk him to the beach. Mr. Wyman owns a home in Costa Rica, and his son considers the beach "pure heaven" after the rigors of school.

"He lives for it," said Mr. Wyman. "The whole sensory atmosphere - the air, the sand, the water - he adores it."

On June 26, the family headed for Logan Airport and gate-checked Miguel's $3,000 wheelchair. When they landed in Costa Rica at midnight, they learned that their luggage didn't make the flight, and the wheelchair was nowhere to be found.

The bags arrived two days later. Still, no wheelchair. In the meantime, Mr. Wyman had enlisted the aid of friends and family in the States in an attempt to reach someone - anyone - from Spirit Airlines.

"All they got was busy signals, recordings and no answers," he said. In response to desperate e-mails, he received computer-generated confirmations apologizing for any delays. On July 7, a lawyer friend from Bolton sent a fax to B. Ben Baldanza, CEO of Spirit Airlines, outlining what he called "an impossible situation" and essentially begging for help.

"There was no way to access these people," said lawyer Thomas J. Frain. "I spent hours on the phone, left voice mails and FedExed letters to the corporate office. No matter what you did, you got a dead end."

Meanwhile, Mr. Wyman carried his 100-pound son on his back in 100-degree temperatures. Sometimes, Miguel had to stay home with a personal care attendant while the rest of the family went out.

On day 28 of the 30-day vacation, a baggage handler in Costa Rica called. The wheelchair was at the airport. What did Mr. Wyman want them to do with it?

"I was beyond tempted, but I held my tongue," he said. "I just told him to leave it there because we were leaving the next day."

Now, Mr. Wyman wants nothing from Spirit Airlines but an apology. Earlier this month he sent an e-mail to the airline that outlined his ordeal. He received a computer-generated assurance that customer satisfaction is a "top priority," and that someone would be in touch "as soon as possible."

He's still waiting. And he can only laugh, albeit rather maniacally, when he recalls that Spirit Airlines charged him $35 for a "name change reservation" on their departure flight, when he mistakenly left out one letter in his son's name.

"We didn't let Spirit Air ruin our vacation," he said. "But I would love the CEO to carry my son on his back in 100-degree heat, just once." Contact Dianne Williamson via e-mail at [e-mail].