December 1982
On November 26 — our first anniversary, no less — Mui left for basic training at Lackland AFB in San Antonio, Texas. Before he left, he put up a small Christmas tree so that I’d have some holiday cheer in the apartment.
Seeing as how we weren’t going to be together for our first Christmas in the US, I decided to visit my brother. Deniz (or Dennis, if you prefer) had moved to the States while I was in college to go to university in Wichita, Kansas.
It was supposed to be a quiet, uneventful Christmas. It started out that way. But then it started snowing. It came down thick, and it stuck. It didn’t stop. Things got so bad that the airport shut down, thus beginning the domino effect of delayed flights. With limited vacation time, I had to get back to Washington no matter what. The airline couldn’t help me — unless, that is, I could find my way to Dallas, Texas.
So what did I do? I bought a ticket on Greyhound and took an overnight bus down I-35, through Oklahoma City, to Dallas.
The ride seemed interminable. I tried to sleep, but it was no use … I’ve never been able to sleep while sitting upright. I read a bit, but didn’t want to keep the light on long for fear of disturbing my seatmate. I was relieved to finally arrive in Dallas some 400 miles (640 km) later. My flight was uneventful and I made it to work on time!
In case you’re curious, it was another 20 years before I traveled again during Christmas.
