My Dad just passed away last month, so I keep having these little vinettes of his life pass through my mind alot....here's one that came to me recently.
Dad was a religion professor at BYU....his specialty was Church History and New Testament. When I was in my first year of high school we took a summer trip to Vermont so that he could research and find out more information about Joseph Smith Sr. Along the way driving there we were able to see all the American history and Church history in our travels.
He went to triple AAA and got this cool flip chart road map made up....with our destination...he taught me how to read the map and give him directions and watch the road signage telling him which way to go. It was quite the adventure, we had a new green ford truck and a used camper on that and pulled an old trailer behind us. It held all of us quite comfortably, He, Mom, Grandma Garrard, myself, and 5 of my other siblings.....yes that would be 9 people total. So, when we stopped for gas, potty, groceries, it was quite the sight to see us ALL pile out of the Garrard Caravan. Having Utah plates didn't help either....most people knew Mormons were from Utah, so they would stop in their tracks and stare....after a while, I just got used to it.
Well we headed to NewYork City, NY. It was so exciting, my first impression was the smell, it smelled like the sewer as we crossed the bridge going onto the Island of New York. We rairly stopped for a motel, but this one night my parents decided to get a room, so that it would be nice for Grandma to sleep in a bed for a change. I gotta admit I was kinda scared, never having been to the big city, and all the traffic and sirens, and people up and going 24 hours.
The next morning Dad decided to go exploring, mine you we have this whole truck/camper/trailer/Utah plates thing happening....so we are driving along, myself and two other sibs are up in the top of the camper, looking out the front window as Dad drives along. Soon, all we see are African Americans everywhere, there are NO white people anywhere, we are lost in Harlem. The more we drive to find our way out, the harder it gets, many of the street signs aren't even posted, they are missing....I'm thinking we will never get outta here. Dad pulls over and gets out of the truck to ask directions. A very nice man gives him directions.....and believe me, when he pulls over, the people on the street are staring at us, as much as we are staring at them, they point to our license plate, they point to us in the top window.....we wonder if Dad will make it back. But, he isn't worried at all, he gets the directions, we go around a few city blocks and head back to where the tour buses are in another section of the city.
(Today when I hear about the Harlem Ballet and other programs and exciting things happening there, I can say to myself.....Wow I was there once, and can envision it in my mind forever.)
He drives to one of the areas of NYC that has bus tours. I am so excited to see everything. Dad buys tickets for 9 of us to take the big city tour. We have to wait for a while for it to all get organized. The man in charge of getting all of us on the bus is being very rude to us.....the fam....he is saying obsene things and geturing and pointing to all of us kids, mom, dad and grandma. It is getting embarrasing, he is making a point of making sure that everyone else knows it too. Dad has always been a very kind, never swearing type of person. I know when he was in the military, he heard and knew all the phrasing...shall we say of the crude military types. Well, this is the way the man was speaking about us.
Dad leaves us and goes up to the man and asks to have a word with him. We/the fam are all watching, he walks him up the street a ways out of hearing range and faces him. I see Dad not yelling, but speaking assertively, I can't hear what he is saying but, I see his finger come up and shaking it at the man's face, Dad talks for what seemed like a few minutes....the man is nodding his head....yes, yes, yes. They walk back to our group. I don't know what was said, but the man apologizes to Grandma and he has a change of heart, he is respectful and makes sure we all get on the bus with the other passengers, he makes sure that Grandma has a VERY good seat, he gets the rest of the passengers loaded, and hands it off to the driver and a wonderful and informative tour guide, and we are off to have one of the most fun interesting days of our lives, that I will always remember in more ways than one.
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