Go West, Young Man (with your mother)

A lot has happened since my last update. It's been a long time, and a lot has happened on Monkey Island. The Princeling has returned to to the island after a year at Millersville University. One year down and some more to go. He's not one to keep to a tight academic schedule. Middle Monkey has left the island for good. He's now under the protection of his bio parents again, even if only from a distance. But Baby Monkey is still here. He's had quite the year. He finished high school with his usual excellent performance. That alone would have made his parents proud, but he has decided to attend Temple University in the fall. Mom is smiling her double-legacy smile. And finally, he completed his Eagle Scout requirements and then turned 18 the very next day. This calls for a special celebration trip far away from Monkey Island. With gas prices soaring, we decided to take a road trip to Yellowstone National Park.

The travel gods aligned and Behold! The hybrid vehicle! Our new Toyota Prius was delivered on Saturday, and today we put over 500 miles on it. It's comfortable, it's fun, it's loaded with camping gear, and it's VERY fuel efficent. We've driven roughly from Philadelphia to Toledo, Ohio on 15 gallons of gas. Today we've averaged 43 mpg, and that included climbing over the Allegheny Mountains. Not too shabby. We're enjoying in the ride.

On day 1 of our trip across the country, we decided to take some time to visit the Flight 93 Memorial near Sommerset, PA. It was a sobering experience. The National Park Service has set up a temporary memorial staffed by volunteers, and we learned that 150,000 people vist each year. On a gray and windy Tuesday afternoon there were quite a few people visiting. Even as I drove down the tiny country road to the gravel parking lot overlooking the crash site, I was surprised by my emotions. It's hard to describe what I felt. It was just a rush of memories of that day. There were tears in my eyes. The site is green and beautiful now, seven years after that horrible day. But the memorials placed near the parking area are poignant. Most are items simply left by visitors. A large fence-like structure collects all sorts of notes, small statues, and seemingly random bits and pieces. But knowing how I was feeling, I knew that every item had meaning to the person who left it there. In this place of shattered lives, there is a very strong feeling of connectedness, a feeling that pulls us close to all of the victims who died in the lush green field below the memorial.

I was struck by the quiet of the place. There were perhaps 15 people visiting while we were there. The wind was blowing strongly through the little valley. Flags were flapping loudly with lines and metal clips banging against metal flag poles. It was quite noisy and yet silent at the same time. Despite the noise of the wind, no one spoke above a whisper in this quiet place. As I walked by the memorials, I thought about what happened that day and how the world has changed. I felt connected to the passengers and crew of Flight 93, and I felt connected to the people visiting there today. I wanted to leave a bit of myself there. I decided to leave a red rosary that I had made and was carrying with me. I placed it with a small statue of the Blessed Mother and prayed a silent prayer.

Tomorrow we'll continue west. A lot has changed in 7 years. I'll think about that, I'm sure. But I'll also travel with a sense of awe at all that is here and now. Road trips are awesome. They connect us to the land we pass through, to the people we meet. It's a good feeling. I like it.