It was a Saturday, a day like any other day that we’d get up at 3:00 AM, fly across the country (with a connection of course) and then drive two hours to a gig. Then back home the next AM, a typical fly date/kamikaze mission. Except we didn’t realize that there was bad weather moving through the lower part of the country. When we arrived in Atlanta I had a message from the promoter asking me to call him ASAP. “You guys aren’t flying through Dallas, are you?” We weren’t.