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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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