I thought it would be fun to bring an English tradition to Thanksgiving dinner at my Aunt’s house in Ohio. I found brightly wrapped cardboard tubes, with a twist at both ends, called Christmas Crackers. Traditionally, children grab the ends and pull them apart like wishbones and inside is a small toy, a joke, and a paper crown. What fun!! It cost £1 ($1.50) for 12. Cheap and fun! What could go wrong? I bought a box of 12 Christmas Crackers and English chocolate and carefully packed them away before heading to dinner with Harriet and her husband John.
During dinner I asked if they had any stories about Christmas Cracker traditions I could share with my family. John said, “There was the time a nail clipper flew at my eye. Do you think you’ll have any trouble getting the explosives on the plane?”
Nail Clipper? Explosives?
As I tilted my head like a dog hearing an unfamiliar noise, John, a PhD in physics explained. Christmas Crackers were called “crackers” because they contained silver fulminate – a compound so unstable the military could only use it as a detonator for explosives. Which still leaves the question why someone said, “Hey, let’s put an unstable explosive in the hands of children for the holidays and while we’re at it, let’s add some toys or perhaps nail clippers as projectiles. What could possibly go wrong?” And for that matter, why did I think it would be, “Fun for my entire family”.
Comforting me further, John assured me that the amount was too small to warrant any significant jail time or damage to the plane. At the first opportunity, I slipped off to the ladies and googled John’s credentials. He is brilliant, highly accomplished and a well-respected Oxford scientist. He would make a great witness in my trial, so I decided to bring the “crackers” on the plane to Thanksgiving.
This may be a good time to mention that my travel would require three planes. The first leg of our journey was from London to Washington DC, where our Nation’s capital was at a heightened state of security due to a terrorist alert.
In London, everything went smoothly. I put my husband’s name on the bag containing the Christmas Crackers and mine on the chocolates. When we landed in Washington DC, we waited in line at customs and proceeded through the usual exchange, “Did you bring in $10,000 or greater in cash”. We said “no”, “Did you bring any fruits or vegetables, meats or cheeses” “no”. “What purchased items did you bring with you today?” I replied honestly, “Crackers and chocolate”. He let us through.
As we were picking up our checked luggage, TSA dogs entered the room. As cool as any well-trained spy, I grabbed a suitcase and ran for the exit, gesturing wildly and yelling, “Dogs! Let’s go”, hoping Mike would understand my well-concealed message. It took him a few minutes to break the code and grab the remaining suitcase, with his name prominently displayed, and follow me to the exit. We made it outside, contraband intact.
With our nation’s capital on heightened alert, luggage is screened before you are allowed on a plane. I carefully placed my chocolate bag up for screening, and went through security, leaving Mike to take the crackers through. As the crackers proceeded inside an iron lung for what felt like an eternity, bomb-sniffing dogs arrived to inspect the people in the line. As the dogs moved up the line, our luggage was moved safely onto the conveyor belt toward the plane. And we would move one plane closer to our final destination.
We landed in Atlanta without incident. Now security experts and fearless, we went through security lines and boarded our last plane to Dayton Ohio, where upon landing we were greeted by a handsome 6-foot 2-inch tall FBI agent. We told him the entire story and he listened patently, and then inspected the Christmas Crackers before escorting us to my Aunt’s house in time for the holiday dinner. Cousin David’s been in the FBI for almost 20 years and he promised not to turn us in, as long as he didn’t get a nail clipper in his Christmas Cracker.
