A funny thing turned up in our recent move that took me back in time. We were living in Germany, and our planned trip over the Thanksgiving holiday season had a few glitches. The two boys and I were going on our pastor’s group trip to the Holy Land. Al and Anna opted not to go. A few days before our planned departure, the phone rang.
“Virginia, I have bad news about our trip.” The pastor was on the phone, and my heart sank as I anticipated the worst. “Because of the current political upheavals, we are not going to be able to go into Jordan, then Israel, and then back through Jordan as we had planned. We are going to have to return through Egypt and take a couple of extra days.” Now, that was a problem I could live with!
The second problem came because we left on the day that the new promotion list came out, and Al was up for Sergeant Major, the top Army enlisted rank. The news would not be released until our bus was scheduled to be on its way to Frankfort for departure. Before the days of instant news by cell phone, we had talked about how I would know if he made the list. I didn’t want to wait the whole time we would be gone to find out, nor did I want to miss the trip. We had finally decided I would see if I could find a phone in the Frankfort airport to make a long-distance call.
The day came to leave with mixed emotions – excitement about the trip and uneasiness about whether I could get promotion news before we left Germany. The traveling group stood in the church parking lot, loading luggage and getting seats arranged on the bus when the church secretary came running out, yelling my name, and saying she had an urgent message. She held a small orange slip of paper. It said, “Don’t spend all your husband’s promotion money. Hank.”
Hank was a friend who worked for the Army Information Office who had received the list but was sworn to secrecy until time for the press release. Technically, he did not reveal the list, and I’m pretty sure the statute of limitations has run out by now anyway. It was a great way to start our excursion.
The trip itself turned out to be even more wonderful than I had expected. I even enjoyed riding a nag down into Petra, a picture that also turned up with the note. I followed Hank’s instructions and spent only my own hard-earned teacher pay on the trip, including a cartouche in the bonus three days in Egypt.
In an extra unexpected bonus that came years later, when I edited Amoun Sleem’s autobiography, A Gypsy Dreaming in Jerusalem, I knew all the places she described, including her home near the Lion’s Gate because I had been there.
So is this really a story about “Travel Trouble”? – You decide!