Airport travel changed forever by terrorists

Perhaps nowhere in Metro Detroit reflects the 9/11 attacks' long-lasting effects better than Detroit Metropolitan Airport. Though they're greeted by two of the nation's most modern air terminals, passengers aren't flying in the same frame of mind they were a decade ago.
It's not just Sept. 11 that hurt airlines, which were hit hard by spikes in oil prices and a drop in travel during the recession. But after the terror attacks, getting passengers to fly again was a challenge. In the first year, traffic fell nearly 8 percent. It took three years to return to normal levels.
"People were just scared to fly," said F. Robert van der Linden, a curator at the National Air and Space Museum.
When passengers did take to the skies again, they didn't find them so friendly.
Don't count on being sent off or greeted by loved ones at the gate, for example. With few exceptions, only those who are flying can get past the security checkpoints with their snaking lines. Gone also are the days of arriving just minutes before a flight. Fliers must to get through those security checkpoints, which aren't so easy to navigate.
In addition, proving fitness to fly is a lot more complicated these days; it's no longer a stroll through the metal detector followed by a possible wave of the magnetometer wand. Tiny toiletries only for carry-on bags, and don't forget to take off those shoes. In 2006, a would-be attempt to blow up a plane with a shoe bomb led to the rise of socks and bare feet in the terminal.
"Anytime I walk into an airport, I feel like a victim," said Lexa Shafer, a flier from Norman, Okla.
Despite the aggravations, America's skies are busier than ever. Airlines carried 720 million passengers last year, up from 666 million the year before the attacks. But in the immediate post-9/11 era, the nation's airlines were sent into a financial tailspin that ended up bankrupting many carriers.
Delta Air Lines Inc. and Northwest Airlines Corp., for example, entered and exited bankruptcy on the same days. Struggling in the face of higher oil prices that followed the 9/11 attacks — as investors became increasingly wary of unrest in many petro-producing nations — the two carriers chose to merge in 2008 to better handle the market.
Other rivals followed suit, and the result is a smaller supply of seats for a larger demand from customers, leaving more bodies packed into planes.
A decade ago, an average of 72 percent of seats per flight were occupied. Today, 82 percent are. Airlines have added rows, meaning less leg room. Smaller, regional planes now carry a quarter of all passengers, twice that of a decade ago.
Even before passengers are able to wedge themselves into ultra-packed aircraft, they're paying more for what used to be free: luggage, changing tickets, food and in some cases, even a water or soft drink on board.
At Metro Airport, the McNamara Terminal — the $1 billion-plus pet project of Northwest Airlines — is one of the nation's most pertinent examples of how much things have changed for U.S. airports in 10 years.
Opened in 2002, airport officials — and Northwest — originally intended for the terminal to serve as a suburban mall of sorts, attracting nearby shoppers and diners to a modern facility that also happened to process millions of airline passengers per year. The attacks put the kibosh on those plans, as security checkpoints were moved to encase most of the terminal in the "sterile zone."
The security changes also resulted in one of the biggest passenger annoyances at the terminal: bathrooms are scant before security (hint: check the Westin hotel). When the North Terminal opened in 2008, it was built for the new era of security.
"Safety is obviously the No. 1 concern for everybody at the airport, and that means a lot more attention to every little thing," said Scott Wintner, an airport spokesman.