Before the airports and train stations, there were other places: a newspaper warehouse before dawn, a church on Wednesday nights, a backpacking trip where a bear stole our dinner. There were jobs, families, plans, and stories that existed before travel became the way I started telling them.
Some of these memories have nothing to do with a trip. Others only make sense because of what came later. They are the pieces that were already there before we packed the first bag.
I arrived at the Vatican before it opened.
The line for Saint Peter’s already wrapped around the square, so I skipped it and went straight for the Vatican Museum.
Somewhere between the marble statues and ceiling frescoes, I stopped looking carefully.…
The caller ID looked familiar. The man on the other side offered me a job. I’d been unemployed for months.
“Sixteen dollars an hour. Out-of-town work. Electrical. Ten hours a day, seven days a week, for six weeks.”
“You interested?”
I did the math.…
The newspaper warehouse buzzed with people waiting for trucks that hadn’t arrived.
The Thanksgiving edition was packed with Black Friday ads. The trucks were late.
I shivered in the cold and yawned.
Mom had woke me at three, shoved a bowl of oatmeal into my hands while I was still half asleep, and hurried me into the car.…
Wednesday nights at church, standing on that little stage with my friends, I jammed the same four cords.
G–C–D–C
Almost every song the same.
~
Then he stepped in—our new band leader.
He said the Lord wanted to transform our little Wednesday service—trendier songs, a real band, something that could draw a crowd.…
A long, long time ago.
Back in the days before “bear boxes,” smart backpackers hung their food between two trees. The measurements vary depending on the expert, but your food bag should be about fifteen feet off the ground and ten feet away from any tree or branch a bear could climb.…
