Sunday, May 10, 2009


Pre-1984, the concept of living in Hawaii ranked right in there along with images of hiking the entire Appalachian Trail, riding a camel across the Sahara, or climbing Mt. Everest.

People did it, there were pictures in the National Geographic to prove it.

But it wasn’t something that I would ever go or do.

People did live in Hawaii - I knew there were military assignments there - but it was like waiting for a bus that ain’t never, ever gonna come to your stop.

Plus the Army had not proven to be extremely reliable for our family over the past six years.

Bill was scheduled to go to Ft. Ord, in Monterey, California - beautiful coastal landscape that runs below San Francisco - as soon as he completed the M.P. training in Alabama.

Instead, we went to Ft. Riley, Kansas.

Bill got orders for Okinawa, an island south of Japan.

Then suddenly we were going to Giessen... West Germany.

But then the office in Giessen was bombed.

So we ended up in Duesseldorf.

I figured if we requested Hawaii, we would end up in Arkansas - Alaska - or Guam.

I seriously refused to believe it. Until the plane landed in Honolulu in June 1984.