I am still nursing my wounds about two experiences involving different airlines, both of which demonstrated lack of respect for customers.

My first story goes back to the worst day in airline history, Sept. 11, 2001. On that devastating morning, our son, Isaiah, was scheduled to fly from Tulsa to Oregon using a ticket that we had purchased for him.

Like hundreds of other flights that day, Isaiah’s was canceled, and he was told that when flights resumed, he should buy a new ticket, the price of which would soon be refunded. So several days later, Isaiah bought a new ticket, filed for his refund, and flew back to Oregon.

But the refund process proved to be exasperating. Over and over, Isaiah and I talked with “customer service” representatives of Airline Z (which does not merit any higher designation in the alphabet), and submitted and resubmitted copies of ticket stubs and credit card receipts for both sets of flights. At Airline Z’s insistence, Isaiah even brought paper receipts directly to the airport in Tulsa to confirm their authenticity. Eventually, it took a letter to the CEO of Airline Z before we finally were awarded the refund that should have been granted routinely nine months sooner. After all that hassle, I vowed never to fly again with an airline that had tried to capitalize on the tragedy of September 11th.

So this summer on my trip to Boston, I flew with Airline Y, where I encountered a new set of troubles. In Portland, all passengers already boarded on our plane to Newark had to deplane because of mechanical problems, and our new flight left two hours late. In Newark, my scheduled plane to Boston had already departed, so I had to squeeze on the next flight, where I was required to check my suitcase because of lack of space in the overhead compartments.

As our plane was taxiing in Newark, it occurred to me that I probably should have removed an envelope that contained $300 cash from my suitcase. Still, I brushed aside that worry by reminding myself that my cash envelope was securely hidden behind a larger wedding invitation envelope, both of which were tightly tucked inside a zipped pouch of my suitcase.

In Boston as I was exiting the jetway, my name was called over the loudspeaker. I went to the counter and was handed my wedding invitation envelope, which had been found on the tarmac. Immediately my heart sank. I went right to the baggage carousel and watched as my suitcase came down the chute. The pouch that had contained both envelopes was zipped, but when I opened it, the only remaining item was a tiny fragment of my wedding invitation envelope. My cash envelope was gone.

I immediately reported all of this to Airline Y and to the Massachusetts State Police. Given the circumstances of the zipped pouch, the size and position of the two envelopes, and the retrieval of the larger envelope on the tarmac, there was simply no other possibility but that one of Airline Y’s baggage handlers had rifled my suitcase. I asked both the airline and the police to check airline security footage so that the thief could be identified. I told the airline and the police that I wanted to file charges.

Since that day, my repeated contacts with the police in Massachusetts and Airline Y have yielded little satisfaction. Several phone calls, forms, and a letter to the airline CEO eventually produced a $300 voucher toward a future flight, and an apology without an admission of liability.

That’s not what I wanted. I wanted to know if Airline Y had bothered to look at its own security footage. I wanted an admission of responsibility, and punishment for a thief. I wanted reassurance that our airlines and police take our security seriously, especially in the wake of September 11th.

I doubt that I will ever use that $300 voucher. My bigger problem moving forward is: I’m running out of airlines.

John McColgan writes from his home in Joseph.