Meet my 91 yr. old grandparents: Gladys and Merrill Hughes from Media, PA, just outside of Philly. They've lived there for as long as I can remember. When their health issues raised concerns last fall, I decided to overcome travel fears due to my unpredictable body and visit.
I was also motivated by Sam's college test scores which resulted in mail from a few Ivy League schools. Since Don's oldest son graduated from Yale, and they sent the most, we combined a trip to Philly with a visit to his son's Alma mater. When schedules took shape, our trip coincided with the tenth anniversary of 9/11.
After a night in Philly, my cautious grandparents detailed a route for us to travel to New Haven, avoiding New York and all its bridges. But as we drove north, I got edgy. I wanted to see the sky scrapers - especially that weekend.
My husband and son tolerated my urge and we diverted, ignoring weekend warnings of explosives and closed bridges. Within a hour or two, I took this photo of the George Washington Bridge as worship music blared and a shadow of Manhattan shimmered to the right. For me, it was the equivalent of bungee jumping.
The back seat view.
On the morning of 9/11, Don and Sam took the official college tour. I stayed behind because I couldn't have kept pace. But when they came back hours later, Don had secured a wheelchair to take me to all his favorite places.
Smiling at the beginning of tour #2.
We ate in the Harry Potter looking cafeteria which is located directly behind Sam. Then we toured a museum to the right which holds a copy of the Gutenberg Bible. We even touched the glass wrong and set off an alarm.
As we left the museum, several black SUV's pulled up outside the president's office. It was like an episode of NCIS. Ready for a break, we sat on a bench to see what was up. A photo op soon broke out and we learned top Air Force military personnel had arrived on campus for a signing ceremony, initiating the return of the ROTC program to the campus this fall.
Next, we hiked to another corner of the university where this cemetery commemorates the lives of some very famous people. Don loved to jog here when visiting his son.
Getting tired on tour #2.
Don pushed me in the chair on bumpy and smooth paths for two or three hours. He never tired as he relived family memories. But due to flight costs, we had to catch a plane out of Philly the next morning. So we saddled up and headed south.
We could have been predictable. We could have avoided NYC. But the closer we got, the closer I wanted to be, especially on the tenth anniversary.
So we paid tolls. Lots of tolls. We crossed bridges. We went the wrong way on a highway that cost us about thirty minutes. And then finally traveled through a tunnel with plans to turn left on the other side and just travel around the edge of Manhattan. But when we rose out of the depths and buildings loomed tall over us, we had no lane choice but to go straight into the city.
I was delighted. Don was dodging taxis. Sam just wanted to get to Philly.
Manhattan isn't that wide so when we turned left onto a major thoroughfare, I knew we were paralleling the highway we were supposed to be on. So while Don avoided collisions, I soaked in the tall skyscrapers, the rush of cars, and the very big feel of the island city that never ever sleeps.
We drove for a while, not totally sure where we were, but found signs to our highway, and turned. As we sat at a light, we suddenly realized we were looking straight at the new World Trade Center building. We didn't get out. Or stop and walk. My feet wouldn't have carried me far. But we got really close to ground zero, somewhat lost in Manhattan, on the tenth anniversary.
And for this mito deprived, slow walking, low energy bodied self, it was even close enough.
We paid more tolls, crossed another bridge, watched the moon rise over the Statue of Liberty, and called my grandparents to admit we'd arrive much later than planned.
Ice cream and strawberries were still waiting when we walked in.
I gave way to tears on the airport shuttle the next morning due to sharp nerve pain in my feet. The trip took a toll. But Don and I had shared more of our lives with each other. I learned about Yale. He experienced the town of Media and my grandparents. And all three of us got close to the heart of a national tragedy that's posted on magazine covers still today.
More importantly, I didn't cave to mito travel fears that weekend. No, we made rich, timeless memories instead.
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