Where to start?

We found the Mississippi National Guard Air Guard base just fine on the north side of the Jackson-Evers International Airport in Jackson. It had not been lost, but we found it anyway.

First hurdle: our girls didn’t have updated ID cards. Off to another building to have new IDs made. Didn’t take too long though. Before we were called back to have them made, Base Operations called to say that the flight was going to overfly Andrews and land instead at McGuire AFB.

That’s in New Jersey – four hours from DC.

We decided to go anyway. My military orders are ending soon so who knows when we all can take a hop like this again.

We landed at McGuire and quickly discovered that – like many European countries – New Jersey closes at 6:00 p.m.

We couldn’t rent a car and drive to DC because New Jersey was CLOSED for business.

So, we sat in the passenger terminal calling. And calling. And calling…

If we wanted to spend the night in a bed Friday we’d have to get to a nearby hotel – in the rain. We are just too cheap to call a taxi when there is a base shuttle that could take us to the main gate where we could walk the rest of the way.

Or we could spend the night in base lodging. I called and reached a pleasant sounding woman with a British accent who told me (on three occasions) that they had no room for families in the family rooms. She was real sorry.

Apparently there were plenty of rooms for adults. Our “children” are teenagers – I know not quite human, I mean adult yet, but certainly not screaming diaper clad infants. OK at least they didn’t wear diapers anymore.

So, we talked the shuttle driver into dropping us off at the Subway restaurant on base. Did I mention that the kids were about to die of starvation? It had been at least five hours since their last mean in Jackson. We thanked him as if he’d just saved our lives from certain death and strolled up to a closed Subway.

Did I mention that New Jersey closed at 6:00?

Base lodging was across the street. As we walked the three hundred or so yards over, the rain came harder. When we reached the lobby, I tried to ascertain which woman behind the desk might be the one with the British accent – and avoid her.

As I tried to lock in each woman’s accent (with me keen hearing), my wife had already started up a conversation with a woman behind the desk. She sounded like Mary Poppins – only meaner.

“Excuse, me. Do you have any rooms?”

“I’mmmm sorry miss. We don’t have any rooms left in our family units.”

“Oh. Oh.”

The bride gave a long dramatic pause, as if not quite grasping the delimma.

She replied in her more beautiful Russian accent, “Well, do you know if the base shuttle could take us to the main gate closest to the hotel where we could walk.”

Mary Poppins wasn’t about to volunteer for us to stay in the other rooms.

A very nice lady with an Asian accent approached and listened to the whole conversation.

“She spoke with authority: “Oh no dear. Walk? In this rain? With your whole family?

“No, its OK. I will Ok it.”

Mary Poppins was shocked, but complied with her manager’s instructions.

We spent the night in a warm bed and the next morning I took the base shuttle to put up the rental car. We found a McDonalds and lumbered through the back roads of New Jersey. Who knew New Jersey had back roads and an occasional field?

Once we found an Interstate, we moved quickly to DC and spent the day walking the Mall.

Sunday morning was a race to get to a church – as it turned out – any church.  I located a church of Christ in Arlington. Turns out, it’s a good drive to Arlington from Andrews. By the time we reached the “historic Christ’s church” people were standing outside in line. (In my dyslexia I had turned Christ’s church into church of Christ).  This was not in accordance with any of my experiences, unless of course there was a potluck inside. And these folks didn’t look like the potluck kind.

I parallel parked in a space big enough for a moped and we walked towards the church. We noticed that people were coming and going.

“Look, the pope,” one of the kids said. “And he’s a she.”

Upon closer inspection we noticed that the sign read, Episcopal Church, which explains the female “popes.”

We drove to the church we were actually going to attend and arrived as the final amen was said.

Not to be defeated, we decided to go to the National Cathedral – which is a stop we wanted to make anyway.

The sign at the entrance to the underground parking garage read: “garage full.” So, of course I drove around it, reasoning that SOMEONE had to have left at one point. I couldn’t imagine that it was really 100% full – absent a professional or college football game inside.

I was right and located an empty space almost immediately.

As we walked into the main entrance the assembly had almost ended. They were in the middle of Communion. I had never had communion in an Episcopal church and the line was moving…

Now, a thin wafer dipped into real wine is a different experience than what we are used to, but we are glad we go to to take the Lord’s Supper somewhere.

This is going on way longer than I wanted so let me skip to the end.

We showed up at Andrews to catch the plane back to Jackson. However because of some technicalities, we weren’t sure if we would be allowed on the plane at all and had to consider the real possibility of driving 16 hours back to Mississippi.

Thankfully, the flight took on passengers and we got on. But the mission of the C-17 is to bring wounded soldiers back from overseas to a hospital in the U.S. Usually; it is Walter Reed. But, sometimes they need to go on to Brooks Army Medical Center at Fort Sam Houston.

We had argued a lot; I am guessing it is because of all the stress that resulted from the uncertainty of getting a ride back home.

Regardless, as we strolled onto the large aircraft, carrying our baggage and hurt feelings we were greeted to the sight of three soldiers (they could have been Airmen, Marines, or Sailors, I don’t know which) lying on gurneys bolted to the floor.

Their injuries were severe. However, they were well taken of by the excellent medical flight crew.

The crew was out of Minnesota and had been going 24 hours without rest. They were great to these men lying there with terrible wounds.

Now, the sight of real heroes puts a reality check on everything else.

God bless the crew and these three men – as well as the ones who got off at Andrews.

The flight to San Antonio and to Jackson as well as the drive home was a little quitter and somber.