Flying Home
We had a dramatic early morning dash to the motorcoach. We drew the lucky straw that sent us to pack our luggage into the truck at 3:45 am, but one student overslept, necessitating getting the brusque Scottish University security guard to key in to the room. Since packing wasn't done, I threw things pell mell into bags while the student sleepily and silently (and slowly, it seemed at the time) got ready. I grabbed both bags and walked with my kid up to the coach. The staff were crabby at us, even though we made it before the 4:15 deadline for departure. Unfortunately, Tim had left the bus to chase us (Horror movie rules, Tim! Don't leave the group!) but he made it onto the bus as the clock ticked to 4:15. Which is when one of the California teachers realized he was still missing a girl from his group. (he had followed the advice of the Staff who told him to wait and assume she'd be along.) Cue a repeat with the guard, cue tense waiting. A Texas teacher smugly announced to his kids that he had gotten all his kids on the coach on time. Tim said to me "I checked that they all have their passports, so at least we know we'll get on the plane." From several seats back, we heard the Texas teacher speak up again "Oh, man. Passports." Turns out one of his kids had lost it. They got off the motor coach to enter the waiting world of bureaucratic red tape. 15 minutes later, the missing California girl showed up, blinking and unrepentant. We were off to the airport.
I wondered whether the early morning departure, described by the AHSTF Tech Director as happening at "stupid o'clock" was a deliberate attempt to ease the sadness of leaving such an intense, magical whirlwind of adventure. As it was, there were no tears, no sentimentality, just a swift push to get 16 teenagers up and awake and packed and on the bus in less than 30 minutes.
Erlier, we said goodbye to Kathleen, who was planning to stay an extra week to visit family and friends, and was generous and devoted enough to the group to get up at that unseemly hour to see us off. The group, which had been fractured a few days earlier, was starting to split apart in earnest. I think the kids bore this better than I did, but I admit that I felt great sadness those last few days when they started to splinter away from the theater company identity that we had all worked so hard for four years to forge. They will stay in touch with thir special friends within the group, of course, but that magical whole which we had been able to create out of 18 individuals who come from very different backgrounds and have very different perspectives has come to an end. I had been very impressed for the days it had lasted, when any member of the group could sit with anyone else and find common ground to talk about, and they were bound together by common purpose, kindness, and a desire to work hard. It was a remarkable thing to behold, and we'll re-form in the fall with new company members, but for the moment, I was feeling the loss of the group deeply.
After a sleepy flight from Edinburgh to London, we enjoyed a brief chance to spend our last remaining pounds, and he proponents of Irn Bru, that uniquely Scottish soda, bought up a few for the road.
Montana votes on the orange-and-bubble-gum flavored soft drink with a thumbs down.
Our flight back to the states was successful and free of incident. After we cleared customs, we said goodbye in the baggage claim before sending most of the group off to other terminals to catch final flights home.
A small band continued back to EHS, driven by Kristelle Hicks, who was an expert driver and a welcome smiling sight as we staggered out into the sun and heat of Washinton DC.
The group continued to dwindle in size as more were picked up, leaving Lydia, Lauryn, and Noah for a final dinner out with me and Tim, followed by an early bed time and an extra night on dorm. The next day, we got Lauryn successfully to Union Station...but then fell victim to the Eastern Seabord radar crash! Flights were being delayed and cancelled all over the coast. Lydia and Noah came back to EHS after 5 unsuccessful hours at the airport. We ate pizza and played a rousing game of Machi Koro, vowing to try again to get these noble travelers on their way.
Two days after the original plan, everyone was launched toward home, still smiling, stlll proud of all we had done and seen.
