The Deseret News always runs a contest at Christmas-time about "The Christmas I Remember Best", or something along those lines. Since Christmas is not yet upon us (thank goodness), I thought I would put a different spin on it this year, and write about my most memorable Thanksgiving.
It was my second year at Rick's College. Being a poor college student, I had no plans to go home. Out of the blue, my grandparents invited me to have Thanksgiving with them. They were living in St. Louis, Missouri at the time. Of course this meant that I would have to fly, and I was kind of looking forward to the adventure. I was scheduled to leave out of Idaho Falls the day before, fly to Salt Lake, and then to St. Louis. That's what was scheduled anyway.
When I got to Idaho Falls, it was in the middle of a snowstorm. I wasn't aware of this, but the plane had originated in Jackson Hole, and could not leave in time because of the weather. By the time it got to I.F. (as it is known to the students there), it was over an hour late. Knowing I did not have a very long layover in Salt Lake, I was a bit frantic. This was the days before cellphones and internet, and I really had no way to get in contact with anyone to let them know what was going on. I remember boarding the plane, and the crew trying to get us on board so fast that no one even got their correct seat. I had to sit next to some large drunk man if I remember right.
By the time we got to Salt Lake, I had missed the flight to St. Louis, and there were no more flights that night. The earliest I could leave was the next morning. I was 19 and pretty unacquainted with traveling and what to do if this happens, etc. I also recall not having a lot of cash on me. I was able to use an airline courtesy phone to call my grandparents, and then the airline paid for me to go to a Comfort Inn by the airport.
I was very fortunate to end up with a very kind woman as my taxi companion, who was in the same situation, trying to get to Colorado Springs. Her name was Betty. She took me under her wing and was kind of my own personal angel that night. She got me to the hotel and got me checked in. I recall being kind of scared. It was my first time in a hotel room by myself, and I was in an unfamiliar area.
I survived the night, and Betty came and got me to go to breakfast the next morning, and then got us both to the airport. This time everything went smoothly, and I got to St. Louis just in time for dinner with my grandparents and their friends. I had my first ever pecan pie at that dinner. Anyway - All in all, it ended up being a nice weekend. My grandparents showed me around St. Louis and I got to do some fun things. I went up inside the Gateway Arch (couldn't even think of doing that now, what with all my phobias), and went to a museum. I left on Sunday, and my trip back to Idaho was uneventful.
I don't recall much else of that trip - what all we had for dinner, whether my grandparents were well-behaved, etc. But I will always remember Betty, and how she helped a scared college kid who was far from home the night before Thanksgiving. God bless her, wherever she is.
It was my second year at Rick's College. Being a poor college student, I had no plans to go home. Out of the blue, my grandparents invited me to have Thanksgiving with them. They were living in St. Louis, Missouri at the time. Of course this meant that I would have to fly, and I was kind of looking forward to the adventure. I was scheduled to leave out of Idaho Falls the day before, fly to Salt Lake, and then to St. Louis. That's what was scheduled anyway.
When I got to Idaho Falls, it was in the middle of a snowstorm. I wasn't aware of this, but the plane had originated in Jackson Hole, and could not leave in time because of the weather. By the time it got to I.F. (as it is known to the students there), it was over an hour late. Knowing I did not have a very long layover in Salt Lake, I was a bit frantic. This was the days before cellphones and internet, and I really had no way to get in contact with anyone to let them know what was going on. I remember boarding the plane, and the crew trying to get us on board so fast that no one even got their correct seat. I had to sit next to some large drunk man if I remember right.
By the time we got to Salt Lake, I had missed the flight to St. Louis, and there were no more flights that night. The earliest I could leave was the next morning. I was 19 and pretty unacquainted with traveling and what to do if this happens, etc. I also recall not having a lot of cash on me. I was able to use an airline courtesy phone to call my grandparents, and then the airline paid for me to go to a Comfort Inn by the airport.
I was very fortunate to end up with a very kind woman as my taxi companion, who was in the same situation, trying to get to Colorado Springs. Her name was Betty. She took me under her wing and was kind of my own personal angel that night. She got me to the hotel and got me checked in. I recall being kind of scared. It was my first time in a hotel room by myself, and I was in an unfamiliar area.
I survived the night, and Betty came and got me to go to breakfast the next morning, and then got us both to the airport. This time everything went smoothly, and I got to St. Louis just in time for dinner with my grandparents and their friends. I had my first ever pecan pie at that dinner. Anyway - All in all, it ended up being a nice weekend. My grandparents showed me around St. Louis and I got to do some fun things. I went up inside the Gateway Arch (couldn't even think of doing that now, what with all my phobias), and went to a museum. I left on Sunday, and my trip back to Idaho was uneventful.
I don't recall much else of that trip - what all we had for dinner, whether my grandparents were well-behaved, etc. But I will always remember Betty, and how she helped a scared college kid who was far from home the night before Thanksgiving. God bless her, wherever she is.
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