Through the baggage claim doors, passing a security guard in a swivel chair typing on her phone, a crowd waits on the other side of the glass and railing:
“Welcome home Dad!”;
“Mr. Peter Yanovik”;
A large red banner filled with gold Chinese script is held up by a smiling family, the elderly patriarch standing off to their left dressed in ceremonial military garb, his many medals sway with his head as he looks for the person who must surely be behind me.