This is part of Chapter 4, which is entitled “I am nominated.”
It will give you the flavor of my writing. If you like it, you’ll be pleased it’s the writing style I use in all my books.
Notice something extra, please. At the end of the excerpt, notice an item called Did You Know. It is one of many such items I have tucked into the book. Most chapters have one at the end–wherever I had room! They are tidbits about Peace Corps that I felt you should know.
Now, here’s the excerpt. Enjoy it.
Came the date I should report to Peace Corps‘ Staging in
Philadelphia. September 28! I discovered Peace Corps has its own travel
agency. It would give me a plane ticket. I said a train would be more
convenient and probably cheaper. They agreed and sent me an Amtrak
ticket.
Oh, they also said they would issue me a passport. But I already had
one. ‘Ours will be limited to your Peace Corps service,’ they told me.
‘Use ours all through Peace Corps.. I did that but I took my own along
as well.
Staging is when recruits gather and prepare for departure overseas. I
prepared a timetable for the many things I had to do. I am an organized
person. Something terrible happened. Somehow I miscalculated. I ran out
of time. I spent the last 48 hours without a single hour of sleep! True.
On the evening before my departure, I was frantic. I put in an
S.O.S. to my friend Dale Winchell. He rushed over to help me. He was
stunned by what he saw. So much more to be done. He called his wife
Amy and she rushed over. She worked with us until midnight … apologized
…had to go to work the next morning.
Dale slogged on with me for nearly two hours more—to 2 a.m.—and then
excused himself and departed. He, too, had to get up early. I worked on
through the night.
My friend Rev. Timothy Haut, pastor of the Deep River
Congregational Church and a fellow Rotarian in our Deep River club,
had told me he‘d pick me up at 7 a.m. to drive me to the train. He arrived
on time.
He was startled to see me still packing things. He pitched in. It was
a frenzy! Finally, finally I took a three-minute shower, changed, and the
two of us lugged my two mammoth suitcases down to his car. Peace
Corps emphasized only two! My two were the biggest I could find.
On the way out I grabbed a wastebasket I had packed some
important papers in—it was the only thing available—and carried that
along.
It was 8:10 a.m. The train would pull in at 8:32. We had six miles to
go. Tim looked at his watch, did not say a word, stepped on the gas. We
zoomed ahead. In 5 or 6 minutes, he looked at his watch again.
He glanced at me. “John, it‘s hopeless. We‘ll never make it.”
“You don‘t think so?”
“Impossible.” He was silent. Then, “I‘ll tell you what. Let‘s relax. Let‘s
stop and have a nice breakfast. We can have a good talk. Then I‘ll put
you on the next train. I think it comes in around 11:15.”
My mind was racing. How awful! I‘d be showing up for the Staging
hours late! How terrible! But…but…there was no other choice.
“You‘re right, Tim. Breakfast sounds good. I‘m so sorry about this.
This is the first time something like this happens to me. I feel awful.”
“No problem, John. The next time we see one another, we‘ll laugh
about it.”
I doubted it but said nothing. Tim had slowed down now and we
rolled on, saying little. We approached the station. We had to pass it to
get to the restaurant Tim had in mind.
“Tim,” I said. “Why don‘t we stop at the station? I‘ll run in to check
the time of the next train.‘‘
“Good idea.” And he turned into the parking lot. It was 8:49 a.m.
We had missed my train by 17 minutes. Straight ahead I spotted a
stopped passenger train. And headed in the right direction!
“Tim! Tim! Look! Maybe that‘s my train! Maybe it is!?”
He put his foot to the pedal…drove right up to the train … stopped
just 15 feet short! People were getting onto the train. I jumped out and yelled up to them. “Is that the Philadelphia train?”
Nobody paid attention. I yelled a second time.
A businessman looked down at me. “Yes, it is!”
I dashed back to Tim. He had opened the trunk and was taking out
my suitcases. He had heard!
” Tim, let‘s go! Let‘s go!”
I grabbed a suitcase. He grabbed a suitcase. I grabbed the
wastebasket with my mail.
Somehow I got up onto the platform and ran for an open car on the
train, dragging along that enormous suitcase. A conductor was standing
in the door. I handed my case up to him. Tim was right behind me,
huffing. I took his suitcase, handed it up. I jumped onto the train.
“Thank you, Tim!” I yelled down to him. “Thank you! We made it!
You must have been praying all the way!”
He laughed. “Good luck, John! All the best! Write often!” He
headed to his car. Then looked back. He was smiling. “Good luck! Take
care!”
The conductor motioned me forward. “Good thing our train was
late, my friend!” he said. “You made it by a whisker.”
He led me to a seat, stacked my suitcases in a corner, checked my
ticket. I dropped into the seat, pushed my head back, closed my eyes,
tried to calm down. “Thank God!” I thought. “Thank God!”
I felt the train start. We made up the lost time and got to
Philadelphia on schedule. Before pulling in, I asked the conductor about
a taxi.
“I‘ll have a Red Cap waiting for you. He‘ll get you a taxi.”
I took all my mail and papers out of the wastebasket and managed
to stuff them into a suitcase. What to do with the wastebasket? It was a
beauty. It had been a housewarming present. I left it by the door as I dashed out.
Maybe somebody would give it a good home.
~ ~ ~