45 years...and counting

One day in July of 1964 a man got on a plane in Argentina and made a long trip north, to the west coast of the U S of A. He then boarded another plane and skipped across the Pacific, via Hawaii and Guam, to arrive in Manila, the Philippine Islands. Tracking northward from the southern hemisphere and then westward across a vast ocean was a long trip in those days...long, not so comfortable, noisy, bumpy, as jets were only in commercial air service for 6 years by this time. In the two trips I've made to the Philippines in the past 10 years from the east coast I've always counted on 30 hours, real bed to real bed. It's a tiring trip even now, and considering that this man travelled the two legs of a triangle to get there, it must have been even more taxing then.

Arriving in Manila wasn't the end of the journey, however. He still had to negotiate a flight to one of the Visayan Islands by going to the domestic terminal in the sweltering heat, the unruly crowds, the strange smells and cacophonous noise. The stewardess on the plane passed around a basket which had a hand lettered sign requesting that all firearms be deposited for the duration of the flight--you'll get your gun back when you land. The last leg of the trip was coming to an end.

Several days of parties welcomed this stranger to a strange land, a loving family willing to take him in, dozens of siblings, cousins, aunts, uncles, and relatives of the woman he was to marry. They met in college here at Georgetown U, fell in love, and decided to spend the rest of time together. The wedding was beautiful, and from all accounts a lavish party. I only see it from the black and white filter of the wedding album that my sisters and I would look at when we were younger.

But while virtually every wedding that I know of is populated by relatively equal numbers of family from both sides of the aisle, this man was literally the only person from his family at his wedding. It was financially not possible for anyone in his family from Braddock Pa. make this trip, and while finances were a major limitation, I'm certain that the culture shock and journey into the unknown was as much of a deterrent. Travel just wasn't very facile those days, and certainly not for such a long distance to such an exotic place. His best man was one of my uncles, and in case he got cold feet legend has is that one of the relatives known for his proclivity to be less than faithful to his wife had a car and plane on standby for an escape. I think this was exaggerated family lore, and due to sound decision making on dad's part I am able to recount all of this.

This is a staggering concept, to travel such long distances, to commit so fully to someone that you trust that you willingly leave the umbrella of safety and comfort that your own family offers. To become a member of a new family halfway across the world required an enormous leap of faith and a journey far more precipitous in what was then unknown.

Thanks Mom and Dad for making that leap, and HAPPY ANNIVERSARY!