Denver International Airport's New Security System Really Flies!

On Monday, February 5, at 1:32 p.m., I turned the corner on Level 6 of Denver International Airport to reach the new West Security and commence a promised "8-12 minutes" wait for my turn in the airport's new and improved security system. The sign indicated that TSE Pre and CLEAR wait times during this last day of the soft opening were only "0-3."

Tugging a capacious roller bag, I took my place in a well-marked single file line with yards of elbow room on either side, in a hallway gleaming with sunlight and a polished white floor. There were only about ten people ahead of me, including a new father with a hoodie proclaiming, “No Bad Trips.” Our group subtly exchanged knowing glances. We were a special community, partners in this new experiment in civility.
It was certainly a far cry from my many previous experiences with DIA security, where I’ve collectively spent hours of my life shuffling through a squalid maze of dispirited travelers. As I trudged through the switchback queues, I’d have numerous opportunities to press against the same scruffy stuffed animal; the same woman sharing intimate details on a phone call; the same man with the “Unwoke” trucker hat; the same ironic Pjs and Crocs, as well dangling neck pillows before I reached the ID check and then the free-for-all of the bins and conveyor belts. There, I’d hold my purse in my teeth while I retrieved my iPad and scrambled for my requisite three bins: one for iPad and laptop; one for shoes, coat, purse with spilling contents; one for laptop bag stuffed with random items. More than once, I got in trouble for hoarding three
bins.

Granted, most airport security lines are shabby affairs. But the DIA experience has always felt especially bad. When I asked my daughter for her opinion on why that is, she replied: “Because you can look down ahead of time and see your doom.” It’s true: There’s something diabolical about the approach to the old DIA security pens, where you get a full picture of the rumpled throngs from the overlook on Level 6, and then the lines somehow get more and more dense as you descend to Level 5. Busy airport workers literally and figuratively look down on you as you take your place in line. The scene is certainly reminiscent of a stockyard. And thinking that this design may be an intentional homage to Colorado's cattle industry, with its role in Denver's early economic development, doesn’t make the experience any more palatable.
Over the last several months, even that early Level 6 glimpse hasn’t captured the full extent of the predicament. Several times I’ve reached the bottom of the Level 5 escalator only to find that the security line actually snakes further back, through an old corridor and around an abandoned baggage carousel where you can’t see the end of the line. At one point last year, a group of us were so far back from the switchback pen – and cutting it so close with our boarding times - that we were herded up and re-routed to a makeshift queue at a far end of the terminal. It was a scramble that didn’t bring out the best in humanity from the anxious travelers; one frazzled millenial used her roller bag to plow ahead in the line and block a family with three young kids as well as a faltering gentleman with a cane.

But all that felt like a distant dream as I was warmed by the sunny promise of the new West Security system up on Level 6. After the ten people ahead of me had turned right into the next stop on our journey, a cheerful TSA agent directed me to Row 8. I found myself in a lineup of light and airy cubicles lined with plexiglass and glowing blue monitors. A screen captured my photo as it scanned the QR code on my boarding pass, and a young agent quickly matched it up with my driver’s license. (Was it my imagination that his shirt seemed perfectly pressed?) The space on the other side was distinguished with curved conveyor belts, giving more space and more spots for the requisite partial disrobing. Lightweight white bins popped into view as I approached. Shoes, coats and bags went into the bins, of course. But electronics could stay in the bags. A revelation! I didn’t even need to hold my purse with my teeth.

Given that the system was on its last day of testing, it wasn't surprising to hear TSA agents call questions and answers to each other to be supportive and validate policies as we worked our way through the process. Yes, there were a couple of hiccups: One woman in capri leggings cut in front of me in the line as we approached the full-body scanner, but then her carry-on was randomly pulled off the conveyor for a slow hand check by a human, so that balanced out. On the other side, we were instructed not to touch the emptied bins as they slid neatly to the end of the line and stacked themselves into place for the next travelers. As I retrieved my belongings, I glanced across the full room at the arsenal of shiny new conveyors, standing ready for action on the official launch day of February 6, then grabbed my rollerboard handle and went on my way.

It was 1:44 p.m.