It’s 3:30 a.m. You wake up, glance at the bedside clock and roll over with a sense of satisfaction, thinking “four more hours.”

At the same time, Nancy Coe is making another trip through the terminal at Des Moines International Airport, cleaning a day’s worth of dirt off of the floors.

In what seems like a matter of minutes, the ghost town comes to life, as airline employees begin to arrive, the lights go on in the food court and at Capitol City Gifts, security screeners get into position and bleary-eyed passengers begin to trickle through the rotating door.

Still, it’s only 4:30 a.m.

“It’s just like the ocean,” said Bud Day, airport facilities superintendent. “There’ll be a wave, and then there’s nothing.”

A day at the airport is just that, with waves of passengers, baggage, airline crews, arrivals and departures, before the last wave of the day gives way to the emptiness that greets Coe at the start of her shift.

LIKE CLOCKWORK

“There just are never two days that are the same,” said Debra Youngman as she watches a long line of passengers form at the United Airlines ticket counter. “We deal with so many different things that it’s a challenge. You have to prioritize because it’s always changing from hour to hour.”

It’s shortly before 8 a.m. and the United station manager has just started her day, though many of her morning-shift employees have been on the clock for close to four hours, preparing for the airline’s 6:12 a.m. and 6:43 a.m. departures to Chicago and Denver, respectively.

At a time when most commuters find themselves in the midst of morning traffic, the rush hour at Des Moines International has come and gone, as most of the airport’s 12 carriers schedule multiple flights between 6 and 8 a.m.

“Those first flights are so important to get the airline going for the day,” Youngman said.

The line of passengers begins to dwindle, and Youngman makes her way up to gate A2 as another group of passengers is boarding an 8:29 a.m. flight to Chicago. Time is of the essence. “If (the pilot) pushes back (from the gate) at 8:30, he has to explain why.”

As the BAE 146 jet pushes away from the gate, right on schedule, Youngman notices snow flurries that have begun to collect on the windowsill. But with her morning weather report from United in hand, she’s pretty sure it won’t amount to much – she hopes.

With hubs in Los Angeles, San Francisco, Denver, Chicago and Washington, D.C., the entire airline can be crippled by a snowstorm in the Northeast or fog along the Pacific Coast. Today, Youngman is keeping an eye on a snowstorm making its way east across the upper half of the United States.

“I think sometimes to watch The Weather Channel before you come to work can be depressing,” she said.

BEWARE OF FOD

It’s mid-morning when operations staff members Christian Sequeira and Bob Krasicki grab their parkas and climb into “Airport 1” – a bright yellow sport utility vehicle marked with a large “1” – for a standard airfield inspection route, which operations officers complete during each shift.

The two spend about 45 minutes to an hour combing the nearly two miles of runways at Des Moines International from the comfort of Airport 1. Though the chore can be tiresome and monotonous, the operations officers must be alert.

Sequeira and Krasicki check for holes in the pavement, which could put the airport in violation of the Federal Aviation Administration code. They check on more than 4,000 runway lights, because if more than two in a row are not working, the airport has to shut down the runway. And they keep watch for wildlife that may have crept into the airfield.

Sequeira maintains a slow pace down the runways, stopping to pick up an empty Doritos bag and a rock that’s little more than two inches in diameter – also known as FOD, or foreign object debris. Literature in the airport’s operations office reminds them that “FOD Can Kill.”

“One of the reasons we check for rocks is because if one of those gets ingested by an engine it can be fatal,” Sequeira said. “A bird can bring an airplane down.”

It is believed that an Air France Concorde flight that crashed in Paris on July 25, 2000, killing 113 people, was brought down by a piece of metal debris from a DC-10.

Another airport vehicle passes them on the runway with several large magnets in tow, picking up tiny pieces of metal that could be similarly catastrophic.

With the snow still falling, Sequeira tests the vehicle’s braking action to give the FAA air traffic control tower and the airline pilots a sense of the runway conditions. He simply drives down the runway at 35 miles per hour and slams on his brakes. No problems, he tells them over the radio.

Sequeira, the rookie, will soon move to his regular overnight shift when, “there’s less going on, but there’s different scenarios.” And there’s quite a view.

“At night, the ramp lights look like Wrigley Field,” Krasicki adds.

A FRIENDLY SMILE

“Even though our primary purpose is security, we also want to be known for our customer service,” said Curt Mackie, lead transportation security screener for the Transportation Safety Administration at Des Moines International.

A retiree, Mackie became a full-time screener for the TSA following the Sept. 11, 2001, terrorist attacks. He decided this was something he could do to help his country.

So instead of his previous 8-to-5 job in human resources, he works from 4:30 a.m. to 12:30 p.m., doing any number of duties assigned by the TSA. Today, his shift is spent in the back luggage room, screening checked luggage through a CTX scanning machine, which is now required by the government. Tomorrow, he’ll be screening luggage in the lobby of the airport, and the following day he’ll be screening passengers and carry-on luggage at the upper-level security checkpoint. Even at those security locations, Mackie and other employees rotate regularly to keep them fresh and alert.

“You don’t get into a humdrum doing the same thing every day,” he said, adding that monitoring the X-ray screens can be particularly tiresome.

A self-proclaimed “talker,” Mackie said his favorite part of the job is interacting with passengers, particularly those who may feel uncomfortable because of heightened security measures.

Most traipse through the two security lines and robotically hand over their ticket, empty their pockets and remove their shoes – they’ve been through this before. But Mackie looks at the line of passengers and notes that, for some of them, it might be their first time flying since 9/11. Most are friendly toward him and the other screeners. Mackie dismisses the handful of travelers who are less than friendly.

“Once in a while, someone wakes up on the wrong side of the bed,” he said. He still greets them with a smile and a friendly welcome, because “it means a lot to people.” Of course, he has a hard time sympathizing with travelers who don’t allow themselves ample time to get through security prior to their flights.

Some travelers have complained about the long lines at security checkpoints, and the airport has responded with plans for a $4 million expansion project that will add two security lanes, which administrators hope will be completed by Thanksgiving.

“It’ll make a big difference,” Mackie said. “That just means Des Moines is going to be able to handle that many more passengers.”

ONE DISASTER AFTER ANOTHER

Day and his staff of 21 custodians are not immune to the problem of long lines at security. At least four or five mornings each week, he’ll get a call: Security is backing up. He or one of his employees will rush to the escalator to halt traffic, because if they don’t, the lines in the security area on the second level will continue to back up create a domino effect on the escalator.

“It’s easier to deal with that than deal with injuries,” Day said.

But that’s only a fraction of the difficult, labor-intensive, tiresome, and, yes, even disgusting parts of the day for Day’s staff. By 8:30 a.m. he’s already got a handful of work orders, but nothing out of the ordinary – a spill, a broken conveyor belt in the baggage area and a broken overhead door. With 160 overhead doors in the airport, “I don’t think a day goes by that we don’t have someone working on them,” he said.

As the morning rush hour winds down, custodians are completing work orders and attending to daily maintenance duties, most importantly the six public restrooms, which Day refers to as a first impression and last impression for visitors.

In his seven years, there have been a couple of fires and one small plane crash at Des Moines International, though he doesn’t have a “top 10 list” of major disasters. Still, his wife and children long ago quit asking “what did you do at work today?” They’d rather not know.

“My whole world is keeping this building running,” Day said.

SPRING BREAK FRENZY

For Elliott Thompson, the holidays are approaching.

Yes, Thanksgiving and Christmas are months behind us, but the busy holiday travel that bombards airlines in November and December holds off until March for Allegiant Air, which has established itself in several markets, Des Moines included, by simply offering non-stop flights to Las Vegas.

But for the time being, Thompson, the airline’s station manager at Des Moines International, is dealing with today’s 140 passengers. With a single arrival, 3:20 p.m., and departure, 4:05 p.m., the nine staff members don’t clock in until late morning or early afternoon. But at 2 p.m., the line at the ticket counter is growing by the second.

After less than two years at Des Moines International, Allegiant’s customer service representatives can greet a few repeat travelers by name, which they seem to appreciate.

Thompson describes himself as a “working manager,” meaning he’s not chained to his desk all day long. Instead, his day takes him from the ticketing counter to the baggage room to the runway.

“We don’t have separation between workers; everybody’s a customer service representative,” he says. “It’s efficient and it’s good for the employees because they don’t get bored.”

With passengers moving through the ticketing line at an adequate pace, Thompson heads into the back room to help load suitcases onto luggage carts. He glances over at the TSA staff and notices a growing pile of luggage in front of the CTX machine, waiting to be screened. Sure, they miss the morning rush, but several other airlines have mid-afternoon flights and add to that pile. But there’s not much he can do to keep that line moving.

“The TSA guys hate my flight because everyone going to Vegas packs heavy,” he says.

With 20 minutes until the scheduled arrival, he radios the cockpit – they’re on schedule and, with the snow still falling, the airplane will likely need to be de-iced. He’s determined to get the plane out of the gate on time, and drives a string of luggage carts out to the gate.

Thompson and his employees move into position in the jet ramp and on the runway as Allegiant Flight 442 pulls into the gate. They’re greeted by a plane full of passengers, fresh from the desert sun, who can do nothing but lament the blast of cold air that greets them.

Still, Thompson says, “My favorite time of day is when the airplane comes in.”

EXPECT THE UNEXPECTED

As 140 passengers are loading into Flight 443 to Las Vegas, Autumn Kroeze is experiencing the mid-afternoon lull in the food court. The lunch rush has finally just ended, and the assistant manager for GladCo Enterprises has a matter of minutes before the dinner rush kicks into high gear.

“It really depends on air schedules for today,” she says.

The crowd of weary travelers who filled the food court at noon has been replaced by a handful of airport employees on break. And yet that can change so quickly. In less than 10 minutes, the quiet has been replaced by another crowd, with seven food tickets hanging above the grill. She abandons any effort to tidy the dining area and instead jumps into the kitchen to cook hamburgers.

The wave recedes as quickly as it came, and she heads to the escalator to check on the upper-level dining area, one of seven or eight trips she’ll make during the day. Of course, that’s not as easy as going from one side of the building to the next. Having to go through security on each trip, she’s learned to choose her wardrobe accordingly, today wearing shoes that easily slide on and off.

Business at the airport dining areas has picked up significantly since 9/11, Kroeze said, considering that travelers now arrive at the airport hours before their scheduled departure. Business has reversed for GladCo, as the upstairs restaurant now accounts for about 60 percent of business.

The upstairs dining area is in the middle of its afternoon lull, so she takes a peek at the arrival and departure board and finds nothing out of the ordinary.

“Delay means busy,” Kroeze said.

In addition to the “grab-n-go” snacks and cook-to-order meals served in both restaurants, the staff caters meals for airplane crews and occasionally for meetings and group charters. On a recent Saturday, Kroeze received an order for 70 pizzas for an airplane with only 20 minutes notice. Stressful? Maybe. But she enjoys the challenge.

“That’s part of the fun of being here is the unpredictable,” she said.

LOW TIDE

After the unpredictability of the day, low tide eventually comes. The food court shuts down, the TSA screeners clock out, the crowds begin to recede to a trickle and the arrival and departure schedule begins to thin out.

A midnight flight arrives occasionally, with little more to greet the passengers than a nighttime security guard. The last of Youngman’s United employees will turn out the lights around 2 a.m., and Airport 1 will make another trip down the runway as Nancy Coe moves on to clean another restroom with just hours to spare before the morning’s waves.

“It’s a 24/7 business; it really is,” Youngman said.