First time abroad

Today is the 20th anniversary of my first trip across the pond. In 1985, I went with my high school marching band to Ireland to participate in the Dublin St. Patrick's Day parade and two other St. Patrick's week band events.

That our tiny 45-playing-member band from a little rural school was invited to such an event is still a bit of a mystery. Some personal connections I suppose were at play.

Earning the money to enable all band members to travel for free was a huge undertaking. We spent two years doing fundraising--car washes, bake sales, hoagie sales and a sponsored 24-hour rehearsal marathon. As a big fan of fantasy novels, Dungeons and Dragons and the like, I was completely over the moon about this opportunity to see part of Europe.

For fun, I thought I'd blog some of my travel journal. My adolescent "voice" is perhaps more entertaining than the content of the entries.

March 15, 1985
This is it--the realization of our colossal dream, two years in the making, one week in the reaping.

The trip began with a big sis-boom-bah farewell from our parents, the radio station and the TV stations. Off the buses rambled toward New York, giving us our last glimpses of barren Pennsylvania. New York loomed up, awesomely wealthy, awesomely dirty. Such is "the big apple."

At the airport we were again televised. Sue L. [fellow percussionist and friend] was personally interviewed and was asked, "What are you feeling at this moment?"

What were we feeling? Ecstatically happy, scared, anxious, completely spastic. After two years of labor, we were really, truly going to Ireland.

Tickets and luggage in hand, we dashed through the tunnel and stepped onto the plane.

"Good evening, welcome to Aer Lingus flight 104," said the stewardess with a pleasant British accent. What was I feeling at that moment? Scared and excited.

After several seat shifts, I wound up next to Becky D. [colorguard], my best friend and a non-flier. Oh boy. To subside our anxiety, we quizzed each other on safety procedures.

With a great rumble, our plane taxied down the runway, and gathering power, the hulking 747 rose from the earth. Becky and I held on for dear life, then we both started laughing.

"Look out Ireland, here we come!"