ABOARD NORTHWEST 105 -- This story begins at the end, but not for long!  Here I sit on the first leg of our homeward journey after a wonderful nine-day Thanksgiving vacation.  Going home for this holiday has always been something special, and the 1999 vintage did not disappoint.  Let me 'splain it to ya!
 
 

For as long as I can remember, my Aunt Maxine (more affectionately known as "Aunt Mackie") has put on Thanksgiving for the family.  Aunt Mackie is the wife of my Uncle Bernard, who is one of my late father's three brothers.  "Nardi" (as he is affectionately known) and his brother Donald are the two surviving brothers and they both remain in my hometown of York, Pennsylvania.  York is located on Interstate 83 between Harrisburg and Baltimore.

When I was a kid, I couldn't wait to "get out of Dodge".  There wasn't much that could hold my fascination but Thanksgiving was the exception to the rule.  I come from a large extended family  and we would all get together on that last Thursday in November.  Everyone would converge at Aunt Mackie's and Uncle Nardi's at 5:00 p.m.  My cousin Drew would come in from Reading.  On rare occasion, I believe cousins Linda and Cheryl would make the pilgrimage from Detroit.  Of course, my grandparents would preside over the entire assembly which consisted of three generations of the Epstein clan.  Aunt Mackie would make four or five turkeys and we'd eat until we burst.  It was always a great time.  We'd play in the back yard or down in the basement.

One very clear and poignant memory I have of these dinners is the one in 1971, when I was a freshman at Duke.  I had turned 18 that October and I remember talking to Aunt Mackie in early November that year.  Anticipating my attendance at her annual feast, she asked me what I wanted to drink on Thanksgiving and I shared with her that I had been indulging my taste for beer.  When I came home for Thanksgiving and went over to Aunt Mackie's for dinner, I recall that the first thing she did when I got in her house was to direct me to a case of cold Budweiser.  No beer ever tasted so good.  She made me feel like a king and even to this day, the thought of this act of kindness brings a tear to my eye.  I'm sure Aunt Mackie didn't get that beer just for me, but she made it seem that way.  I love that woman!

Time has marched on since those heady days of young adulthood.  Upon graduation from college I moved to the west coast and didn't make it home for Thanksgiving too often.  In 1996, having recently met my bride-to-be, I felt obligated to take Sara back to York and introduce her to the family. This was a great trip home.  We flew into Philadelphia and spent a few days there, visiting the Liberty Bell, Independence Hall, and of course that great shopping bastion of the Delaware Valley, King of Prussia Mall. In 1998, we returned with Sara's daughter Liv, who had never been east of the Mississippi.  Again flying into Philadelphia, steeping ourselves in history and shopping.  I had signed up to run the Philadelphia Marathon the Sunday before Thanksgiving but had to withdraw due to a stress fracture in my foot.  As we rode the train into New York City that day, we went over a portion of the marathon course and I saw the runners.  It was such beautiful day -- calm winds, bright sunshine, and temperatures in the 40's -- and I really lamented the fact that I couldn't run. Oh well.

We weren't going to come home this year, but during the summer a remarkable event made us change our minds.  Uncle Donald, whose wife Phyllis had passed away in September 1997, was getting remarried and planned to have a party in York the Saturday after Thanksgiving!  This was made even more special by the fact that he was marrying a life-long friend who had recently lost her spouse.  This woman just happened to be the sister of Aunt Mackie!  So now brothers would be married to sisters!  Too unique an event for us to pass up - count us in!

Sara and I love living in Alaska.  One of the few challenges is getting from Point A to Point B, especially when Point B is on the east coast.  Things have gotten substantially easier in the last few years.  It used to be that you could get to Europe from Anchorage easier than you could get to the eastern seaboard.  Up until the mid-80's, all the big European carriers would have nonstop flights from Anchorage to the major cities over the pole.  London, Paris, Madrid, Berlin, etc.  Eight hours and you're there.  To go home, however, the only choice we had was the three-hour ride to Seattle and then five hours back to Washington or Baltimore.  Then the large jets came on, new air routes were opened up, and one by one the European air carriers pulled out of Anchorage.

But as that happened, new domestic nonstop routes were put in place to help Alaskan travelers get to other parts of the country easier.  I believe Delta was first with their nonstop flight to Salt Lake City.  United followed shortly thereafter with direct flight to Chicago's O'Hare Field. Other airlines jumped in the pool and now we can get to Portland, San Francisco, Phoenix, Los Angeles, Dallas-Fort Worth, St. Louis, Minneapolis, and Detroit seasonally or year-round depending on the market.  Next June, Delta will begin offering daily nonstop service to Anchorage from its Atlanta hub.

My favorite way to get back home is via Northwest Airlines service to Minneapolis.  From there you can get to Baltimore or Washington nonstop.  For this trip Sara and I chose to fly into Washington's National Airport because the fares were the lowest.  You leave Anchorage at 10:00 p.m. and arrive back east at approx. 11:00 a.m. the next day.  Thus was the die cast.

Our journey commenced the evening of Saturday, November 20 - incidentally, the 21st birthday of Sara's son Sven.  We were taken to the airport by our good friend, Bob Wedemeier.  The travel intrigue kicked in immediately as the outbound flight was very much oversold.  The ticket agent said that if we volunteered to give up our seats we could receive two tickets to anywhere Northwest flew domestically as recompense.  Normally I don't like to give up my seat but in this case we truly would not be harmed by doing so.  Were we to get bumped we would probably have left Anchorage a few hours later on a jet to Seattle, then on to Minneapolis and Washington, DC.  For two free tickets I would have subjected myself to this inconvenience.

It went right down to the wire but alas, there were enough seats for everyone, so on the plane we got.  No free tickets this trip!  The equipment Northwest flies on this route is a Boeing 757.  This aircraft resembles a flying cigar - graceful but cramped.  The good thing is you fly in the middle of the night, so something vaguely resembling sleep overtakes you and the next thing you know, you're in the Twin Cities.

As was the case in Portland, not much was happening as we disembarked the plane at 6:00 a.m. local time.  We stopped at a Caribou Coffee stand so Sara could get a big cup of joe, which she proceeded to spill all over the table.  Fortunately only half of it spilled and what remained, she downed it with great gusto.  Then it was on to the second leg of the journey, which proved uneventful.

We arrived at National Airport at 11:00 a.m. and exulted in the unusually warm weather.  It was over 70 degrees, thanks to La Nina. In fact, the weather would stay warm for all but two days of our trip.  On to our spacious digs at the Crystal City Embassy Suites and a much needed nap.

When I go back to Washington for work, I like to stay in the Alexandria/Arlington area.  Access to our FAA Headquarters building is easy on the Washington Metro "Yellow Line" train.  Usually I stay near Old Town Alexandria, but this trip I decided to try the Crystal City area.  Co-workers who have stayed in Crystal City rave about it so I figured it was time for me to find out what was so great.

There is a lot to do in the vicinity (understatement of the decade!).  We went to the Crystal City Mall ("Fashion Centre at Crystal City") so Sara could put a dent in her insatiable shopping appetite; we walked down King Street in Old Town; and we visited the headquarters of the Road Runners Club of America (which will soon be moved from its current location at the western terminus of the I-495 Woodrow Wilson Bridge over the Potomac to make way for highway expansion).  On the way to the RRCA we had the misfortune of passing by a Laura Ashley home design store.  If I ever meet that woman I am going to do bodily harm to her, but they tell me it's too late for that, she's already dead.  Sara spent an hour there looking at stuff in anticipation of our remodel project, while I found a chair and read the Washington Post.  Oh, and she bought some more cherry design plates.  But the highlight of our stay in the Capitol area was -- in my humble opinion -- our visit to the White House.

I had arranged for special VIP congressional White House tour tickets courtesy of our senior United States Senator, Ted Stevens.  We went to his office in the Hart building on Monday, and didn't get to see the Honorable Gentleman from Alaska because he had had enough of Paris by the Potomac and left town!  I don't blame him, the session had just ended and he has family, too.  But we did get to meet bubbly office manager, Suzanne Palmer.  Suzanne gave us the tickets along with some good hints and tips of how to get into the Capitol easily and what to see while we were there.  We went to the basement of the office building and took a small train over to the Capitol.

The last time I had been in the Capitol was as a small child.  I didn't appreciate its beauty then.  We didn't stay long but did take a look at the Senate and House chambers, as well as the Rotunda.  We also saw the old Senate chambers, which were in use from ca. 1800 to ca. 1845.  Very quaint, very beautiful, and one could just imagine the empassioned speeches and oratory that were delivered in that room.

To take the White House tour we had to be in line by 8:00 a.m. Tuesday.  I thought our tickets would entitle us to a special tour of the home but I was wrong.  What the VIP treatment does for you is get you to the head of the line of the public tour.  Well, at least we didn't have to wait.  The tour of the White House was fast-paced and packed with information concerning various rooms on the main floor.  We went in a side entrance, into a hallway that had pictures of various First Ladies hanging on the wall.  Then we were escorted into a room featuring various china patterns of the Presidents, then on to what I call rooms of various colors, e.g., the Red Room, the Green Room, the Gold Room.  All were very beautiful.  Our tour leader was a young Secret Service agent (I think) who delivered his information in deadpan.  But he did have a sense of humor now and then, telling us of the President who delivered the longest inaugural speech in cold weather, only to die in office less than a month later due to pneumonia.

After being spirited out of the White House we proceeded on to FAA Headquarters so I could say good-bye to our retiring Director of Airway Facilities, Stanley Rivers.  This would be the only chance for me to do this and I couldn't pass it up.  Unfortunately I did not get a picture to post here.  Stan has been a great supporter of the initiatives we are implementing in the Alaskan  Region and we will really miss him.  While in Headquarters I also had the good fortune to say hello to Steve Rothschild and Evie Brackman - two more FAA "good guys"!

On Wednesday it was time to break camp and head north for York.  Late in the morning I went back to the airport to rent a car, then returned to the hotel to pick up Sara.  We headed west around the city -- I did not want to chance encountering a backup at the Wilson Bridge -- and on to Interstate 95 northbound, then west around the city of Baltimore and on to Interstate 83.

Ever since my days of going back and forth between North Carolina and Pennsylvania, I have liked to drive a portion of the route between Baltimore and York on the pre-Interstate, two-lane road known as the Susquehanna Trail.  In olden days it had the designation of US Route 111.  When the Interstate was built, it for some reason lost that designation and was not even garnered a Pennsylvania state highway number (although Maryland renumbered its segment of the road as Maryland 45).  It is now known as "The Trail", "York Road", or "Main Street".  The only numerical designation it has is "SR 3001" on the PennDOT stationing markers.  Notwithstanding this trivia, the portion between York and the Parkton exit on I-83 is particularly beautiful and charming.  Here the road bisects rolling farmland and serves as the main street through the small towns of Jacobus, Loganville, Hametown, Shrewsbury, and Maryland Line.

In Shrewsbury, Sara and I stopped so she could visit the local antique store.  Sara has been looking for a "hoosier" - which is basically an old kitchen cabinet.  This store had one for the unbelievably low price of $399.  The bad news is that it will cost twice that much to ship it back to Alaska.  There will be other times for hoosiers but at least it's nice to know that they exist!  Later on in the visit Sara connected with another Shrewsbury-based antique dealer who told her the "King of Hoosiers" lives in Lancaster County.  So now we have a reason/need to come back!  As if we really needed one.....

On to York and our tastefully spartan accomodations at the Comfort Inn on Leader Heights Road.  Wednesday night was spent at Aunt Mackie's, catching up on old times with the family and generally getting ready for the following day's festivities.

On Thanksgiving morning I hooked up with my cousin Bob (Aunt Mackie's only son) to run on the York County Heritage Rail Trail.  This is an outstanding resource that has come into being since my last visit.  The trail parallels the old abandoned rail line between York and Baltimore.  As such it is flat and fairly straight.  It is a ten-foot wide gravel path and it is WONDERFUL.  It could easily qualify as a "Rave Run" in Runner's World magazine.  We ran past places that I never knew existed.  The old white concrete mile marker monuments are still up.  The Maryland portion of the trail is known as the North Central Trail.  It serves as the course for the North Central Trail Marathon, which I had signed up to run this year but decided not to so I could fully enjoy the wedding party.  On Thursday, Bob and I ran seven miles, three and a half to the south then turning around to our starting point at the Indian Rock Elementary School.  We enjoyed this so much we came back on Friday and ran the trail's final two and a half miles into downtown York and back.  The people of York County are very lucky to have the Heritage Trail.

Thanksgiving dinner was again wonderful.  Somehow Aunt Mackie managed to feed sixty people in her house that night.

Then on Saturday night, we got together again, with about a hundred more people, to celebrate Uncle Donald's marriage to Onie Chock.  Aunt Onie and her late husband Bob had lived in York until sometime in the '80's, when they moved to northern New Jersey.  The two had gotten married in the Bahamas the week before in a private ceremony.  This party was strictly that - and what a party it was, with sumptuous hors d'oeuvres, a gourmet meal, and an excellent rock-and-roll band imported from Philadelphia.  Eloquent and emotional toasts were offered by the newlyweds and their children.  There wasn't a dry eye in the house as Uncle Donald told us of how two people, who had known each other for over fifty years, now took their relationship into a new dimension. Daughter Laurie Chock hailed the union as a triumph of the human spirit, and she was right on.  Son Thomas Epstein sang praises to "the light at the end of the tunnel".  Together, we welcomed Onie Chock back to York.  It was a wonderful, wonderful evening.

On Sunday morning it was time to eat again as the families reconvened for a breakfast and good-byes.  For me it was photo opp time, and I took many pictures of cousins and their children to cherish for the years ahead.

That was basically it.  Monday we came home.  I hope you have enjoyed this visit back home for Thanksgiving, laborious as it might have been!