If you were trapped in O’Hare overnight, what would you do? One writer found awe, fun in unlikely places

When Baltimore writer Allison Robicelli posted a long tweet thread from O’Hare International Airport after missing her connecting flight, many would have expected a litany of complaints.

After all, to many, O’Hare is known as the place where they missed a flight, got stuck on the runway or had to sprint through a long terminal.

But Robicelli’s Twitter thread was a string of compliments and admired beauty within the terminals, passageways and spaces of O’Hare.

She found awe in the light installation by Michael Hayden above moving sidewalks, and the surreal joy of seeing a dinosaur skeleton’s vertebrae up close. Throughout the night, she updated social media followers on airport wonders. At 2:19 a.m., she reported back from an arcade about airport trivia. At 2:26 a.m., mulling the magic of the dinosaur skeleton, “This is what a dinosaur’s butt looks like from the inside.”

And, in the response to her observations, she found many people appreciating their ability to find beauty in unexpected and perhaps even routine places. People have been tweeting her photos of everyday beauty, inspired to look up and around at what’s around them.

It all began when Robicelli missed her connecting flight, absorbed in efforts to track down the leather jacket she’d left behind in Palm Springs. Rebooked for a morning flight, she called her husband, who reminded her, “You always have fun in these situations. You like being alone.”

Others might search for hotels or bunker down for an uncomfortable night of chair sleep. But to Robicelli, a natural night owl, it was 12 extra hours of vacation. “I love the middle of the night, because the whole world’s asleep except you,” she said.

She found camaraderie by talking to staffers also working overnight, and thanked people who helped her get home safely, from flight attendants to, later, an air traffic controller she connected with after her Twitter thread spread. Having worked in the service industry, Robicelli knows how much a seemingly small sentence can matter. “Have you ever gotten an unsolicited compliment, and it just makes your day? I could do that literally every time I talk to somebody,” she said.

We talked to Robicelli about finding awe in an unlikely place.

Q: Most people would expect a thread about O’Hare to be the usual complaints – runway delays, running through terminals, long lines.

A: I can’t believe everybody hates O’Hare. Watching the airport slowly go from crazy to quiet to empty, I mean, that was just so blissful. And that realization like, I’m here, I have this whole place to myself, because everybody else went home.

I don’t get to travel that much. I’ve never gotten to travel that much. It’s a privilege. You have money to go places. You’re flying in a machine tens of thousands of feet over the earth. You can see the curve of the earth, and people are getting upset.

Q: What has the response been? Did you consider sleeping or getting a hotel at any point?

A: I can’t believe this has gone viral, because I don’t think there’s anything unique about this situation.

I was there 12 hours, it’s not that long of a time. I got to hang out at an airport, and then fly out and then just sleep.

Q: Are you a naturally positive or optimistic person? What seems to be resonating with people is appreciating the beauty in small moments.

A: I’m a comedy writer. The funniest people are the saddest people.

I’ve seen a lot of bad stuff in my life, and the world is pretty terrible right now. But I can’t control that. None of us can control that. But what I know I can control is myself.

Q: What was your favorite part? What are you most excited to see when you go back ?

A: Lying on my back in the rotunda. I looked at the light, and I just kind of noticed the ceiling. There was a midcentury look to it, and I was taking pictures. I was like, let me go lie on the floor underneath it, and not lying, took my breath away.

It was one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen in my life. Being able to lay there, and understanding, I will never have this moment again. But for these five minutes, or ten minutes, this is mine now. And I just tried to soak it all in.

abowen@chicagotribune.com