The great irony was, the young guy running the tug was thrown off by the older guy, airport manager, who took over. BAM! I just look down at the ground, looked up at the sky, shook my head a few times, took a few deeep breaths, and said, OK, let's fix this. I never raised my voice. The airport manager was feeling so sick he was on the edge of puking. I decided to just be kind to him. Theirresponse was quite amazing, Paid for everything, and when my wife brought me down thye gave us 2 nights in a honeymoon suite at the resort and a dinner and wine that ran about $250. They insisted on filling my wife's car with gas. Got a brand new machined fork, actually much better and stronger than the old one, so what the heck. Just another experience. As John Prine, my favorite singer-songwriter of all time who is on a ventilator in Nashville right now with COVID 19, sang in his song, "Bruilsed Orange" .... "It don't do no good to get angry, so help me, I know."
p.s. The baby is 8 now, in 3rd grade, he loves airplanes.