Monday, December 28, 2009

Some of you will have fond memories of Chaplain Benson. He did a
wonderful job as Pentagon chaplain.

Dulles chaplain walks miles helping travelers, airport workers on
Christmas Eve

By Paul Farhi
Washington Post Staff Writer
Friday, December 25, 2009; C01

On the day before Christmas, Ralph Benson walked 5.2 miles, gave
directions to countless lost souls, prayed spontaneously with a few
dozen others and helped some guy find his connecting flight to Tokyo.

In other words, a pretty typical workday, if you happen to work as the
senior chaplain at Dulles International Airport on one of those hectic,
get-outta-town-at-all-costs days like Thursday.

A retired Army chaplain who lives in Nokesville, Va., Benson did what he
does four days a week, holiday or no holiday: He spent about 10 hours
roaming the ramps and corridors of Dulles, serving his "flock." Which in
this case includes about 36,000 airport employees and tens of thousands
of travelers, many of whom seemed more in need of gate information than
spiritual guidance.

And that was just fine with Benson, 61, a calm, preternaturally cheerful
fellow who begins his marathon rounds at 3:30 a.m., greeting baggage
handlers and ground technicians on the freezing tarmac. For the next 10
hours, Benson circled the airport like a cop on a beat, searching for
anyone who might need a sympathetic ear.

"Basically, I walk up to people and talk to them," he says. "I'm here to
let people vent and to show them that someone cares. I'm here to let
people know that someone is listening in a place where you can feel very
lost and alone."

Indeed, nearly 7,000 people this year have sought pastoral counseling at
Dulles and Reagan National Airport, according to Metropolitan Washington
Airports Interfaith Chapels, the nonprofit organization that runs
chapels at both facilities. Chaplains at the airports have met with
28,000 employees over the years, as well, to talk with them about all
manner of problems -- family issues, money issues, drug and alcohol
abuse.

For Benson, the day before Christmas turns out to be a relatively quiet
one, which is surprising. Benson expects worse; the airports are
typically filled with stressed-out people at this time of the year. But
there's no major drama today, just the usual kind. "It could be the
recession," he says.

Nevertheless, Benson presses on, staying visible. He wears a thick stack
of badges and is authorized to go just about everywhere, and he does.
His golden rule seems to be: Talk to as many people as possible; you
never know what you'll find.

"Have a safe flight, captain," he calls to a pilot on his way to a gate.
The pilot smiles and waves back.

"Feliz Navidad," he tells a janitorial worker, who returns the greeting.
"Have a blessed holiday!"

A family, a child, a soldier


"Where are you headed today?" he says to Anne Corej and her husband,
Tom, on the shuttle between the main terminal and Concourse B. The
couple, from South Riding, are shepherding their two young children to
Detroit. Seeing no signs of distress, Benson launches into a brief
synopsis of the plans for a new runway at Dulles. The Corejes nod
politely.

Finally, Benson spots something. Look, over there: Is that a lost child?
Benson ambles up. "Where are you going today, honey?" he says to the
toddler, who stares up into Benson's round, pink face. Turns out the kid
isn't lost; he's just running way ahead of mom.

A few minutes later, Benson spots a young soldier in a crowd waiting to
board a flight. He approaches and greets Pvt. Jasmine Rivera, 19, of
Bethlehem, Pa., who is on her way to her post in Fort Carson, Colo.
Benson chats for a few moments and then asks, "Can I pray with you?" And
they do, their hands clasped and eyes shut tight. As Benson bids Rivera
Merry Christmas and safe travels, Rivera wipes away a tear.

By tradition, airport chaplains are interfaith (Benson happens to be a
Presbyterian minister) and do not proselytize. They are most visible in
emergencies, such as the aftermath of a plane crash, but most of the
time they counsel airport employees and conduct worship services and
Bible study sessions. Benson and his 10 assistant chaplains, all of whom
are Christian and most of whom are former military chaplains, receive a
small stipend for their work from MWAIC, which itself survives on
donations. (A Muslim cleric conducts services on Fridays.) But Benson
says, "To me, the real payment is the people."

Benson keeps a pedometer on his belt, so he knows how far he's walked
each day. Thursday was a breeze -- just over five miles by the time he
called it a day. On Wednesday, he did 13.9 miles. His record, he says,
is 17 miles.

A short, squat man, Benson doesn't wear the mileage well. His knees and
back hurt, he says. But he keeps going with help from a pair of
rubber-soled shoes that have a coiled spring attached to the heel
(Benson got a tip about the shoes from the shoeshine guy at the
airport). Except for the odd-looking footwear, Benson could be mistaken
for an ordinary businessman. He wears a conservative dark-gray suit, a
dark tie and a white dress shirt, and a little badge that reads, "Ralph
Benson, Senior Chaplain."

Chapel is easy to miss

Benson's official workplace is the airport chapel, a smallish space on
Concourse B that is located next to Korean Air's posh frequent-flier
lounge and a Brooks Brothers store. The chapel is easy to miss, but
people somehow find it. By 10 a.m., according to the automatic counter
on the door, 101 people have already visited. About 300 will pass
through before the day is over, almost 100,000 a year.

The room has stained-glass wall hangings (a dove with olive branch, a
pair of praying hands, etc.), a Muslim prayer area with rugs and rows of
blue-upholstered chairs facing a small podium.

The chaplain's little office is just behind a door at the back of the
chapel. Donations are dropped through a slot into a box behind the door.
The box had to be secured because people kept stealing from it. Other
stuff disappears, too, including Bibles and Korans.

Sometimes people fall asleep in the chapel. Benson doesn't mind that --
"as long as they're neat."

And sometimes homeless people wander in or wind up hanging around the
terminals; the chaplains try to arrange social services for them, or bus
transportation if a relative lives nearby. There isn't much money, but
occasionally the chapel will help a needy person with rent or utilities
payments.

By early afternoon, Benson draws on a dark trench coat and heads home.
"I'm beat," he says as he stands on the moving sidewalk that takes him
back to the main terminal. Tomorrow is Christmas Day, a day off for the
airport chaplain. Saturday's another story. That's when the
post-Christmas rush begins.