Leaving Home and the Flight Out
Here I am with my parents at Buffalo-Niagara International
Airport, about to embark on my journey. The picture is a little crooked and the
exposure is a little off because it was taken from the top of our car. What you
can't see in the picture are the tears in our eyes. I think we were all a
little teary-eyed, since I wouldn't see my parents for nearly a year.
My first flight took me from Buffalo to Newark, NJ.
Tendrils of fog filled the valleys of NY and PA. My flight from Newark to
Los Angles (LAX) ended up leaving an hour and a half late.
The scenery of the American Southwest was breathtaking. Once
I arrived in LAX, I ran through the terminal and got to the gate of my departing
flight just as the plane taxied away. The flight was oversold anyway, the
gate agent told me, as if that was supposed to make me feel better. Here I was
left behind in Los Angeles. Just then, a friendly man came over and asked if I
was part of the student missionary group going to Hawaii. It turned out that he
was there to make sure that everyone made their connections properly. He,
a local pastor in the area, took me to his house where I was able to stay
overnight until I could get onto a morning flight out to Hawaii. I enjoyed the
evening with his fine family. Trying to make myself useful, I helped out by
mowing their small lawn with an old fashioned rotary mower. I played the game
'Life' with the two girls in the family (I forget who won). I enjoyed the chance
to sample life in Southern California (my first time there) for a day.
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