I ponder whether I should attend the Festival this year as I
take off across the country on a regular trip to my daughter in Virginia. Michelle
Russell would like me to go and talk about my book, Always for Judy: Witness to
the Joy and Genius of Judy Garland and about my meetings with Judy and
watching her perform. As I love talking
to fans about Judy it is tempting, but it is a long journey for me with a
four-hour car trip from the airport.
I'm on a 6 a.m. plane to LAX because it is $500 cheaper
than a direct flight. The young lady next to me is extremely nervous about flying
so I end up talking with her in an effort to relax her. (I should mention that my
writing group, The Town Square Writers, had participated in a two-day book festival the two days
previous—consequently I had no sleep the night before this flight, having to be
up early for a 3 a.m. pick up. )
I get off the plane completely lost, having forgotten that
LAX has eight different terminals. The
next two hours are a complete nightmare and I could embellish and make it a
funny story about it, but I do not want to relive it again. Needless to say by
the time I am on my connecting plane I have decided I will never take a flight that entails a change of planes again…..in fact, I WILL
NEVER FLY AGAIN AFTER I GET HOME FROM THIS TRIP……. I will do as people tell me,
“It is time you took it easy, stop traveling, you are too old. Be content with
your view of the golf course.” I decide
that this will be my life from now on…..
I travel regularly all over the world and admire the
air hostesses with their difficult job of keeping passengers happy, but I have
never initiated a conversation with one.
After serving me a cup of tea, this young lady looks down at me and says
earnestly, “Can I do anything else for you?” I had already noticed that
all the hostesses on this plane wore slacks instead of skirts, so I had to ask
about this. We had a detailed conversation about the her life—how long she has
been flying, schedules, early rules etc.
“There I go again,” I think, “questioning someone”— I think sometimes
that anthropologists are just nosy people, they want to know everything about
other people’s lives.
I have begun to calm down and rip out the page on Chicago
airport terminals where I might change planes if I decide to go on this next
trip. I am writing out a schedule ensuring I have a day’s rest before and after
a flight. The young man who was sitting
next to me came back from visiting a friend and said, “I heard you say you were
an anthropologist, I'm Australian and an aborigine. “ My head twists so fast
it nearly comes off.
A REAL LIVE ABORIGINE SITTING NEXT TO ME ON A PLANE AND WILLING TO TALK!
Now I have been to Australia and
seen aborigines in the street but one can hardly go up and ask them about their
lives; but here is this young man, knowledgeable and willing to share his life
with me. We talk for two hours. Jayden David, for that is his name, and I cover
history of 'early man' touching on the great statue serpents I had seen outside
temples in China and similar statues protecting pyramids in the Mayan area of
South America. He tells me there are serpents on the walls of the Ayers Rock.
My goodness I shall have to do some investigating… He is sixteen; his
father comes from an island near the Solomon Islands, just north of Australia
where the people are tall. (I check into the history of these islands and see
that during WWII the population evacuated to Australia-perhaps this is how his
father came to Australia.) His mother is of Scottish descent, hence his long
narrow nose and light skin. He seems to be remarkable knowledgeable about everything to do with his culture. He tells me that Robert De Castella started the
organization known as The Indigenous Marathon Project. There are six girls and
six boys in this group which was invited here by Sports United – U.S.
Department of State for 16 days to compete in races and visit some indigenous
people. He is very excited to go to Philadelphia
and New York. I take his photo on the plane.
 |
| Jayden David |
I am pleased to see the whole
group together as we leave the plane and rush up asking if I can take a photo.
“I’m English!” I say (as if to explain my madness, because everyone knows the English
are mad) and their faces relax and light up. A friendly face as they arrive in
the US. I wish them well and hope they win all their races.
 |
| The Indigenous Marathon Project |
When my daughter is not able to
pick me up I have a regular taxi driver I use. It is nice to meet a familiar
face and one who knows where I am going. Bali is from India and very reliable
and so if anyone needs a taxi driver at Dulles airport, contact me. We have known each other for years and ask
after each other families. His son has graduated and getting married to an
Indian girl, he tells me. He will go
home for the ‘ring ceremony’ soon. “The wedding will be in two years January or
February….and you are invited” he exclaims excitedly. OMG, I have never been to India. “Of course I
will come,” I say, “that is if I am still alive!” He tells me he will assign a
person to look after me and take me around for two days. I will buy a sari, I
think, and wear it. So now I have to check out the
carvings on Ayer Rock in Australia and attend a wedding I India, surely I can
manager a trip to Grand Rapids and so I confirm the flight.
The ten days in Winchester are
uneventful and finally I am at DC Dulles airport waiting for the plane to take me
home. I am sitting in one of the handicapped seats for those who need more time
boarding and a young woman hurries in and sits next to me. I can see she limps
and has some damage to her left leg. I ask her what happened. A rare form of
cancer, which wrapped around her sciatic nerve, she tells me. Suddenly an attendant
informs us that there is an hour’s delay. The toilet in the middle of the plane
has malfunctioned; the handle is broken and the captain refuses to fly the
plane five and half hours with the middle toilet closed. (I’d already checked out the two pilots-looking sensible souls in their
late forties or early fifties.) My
neighbor leaves to get something to eat and comes back with a pizza and we
start to talk about the different ways countries handle services for
handicapped people. Apparently, all trains and buses are free in Italy and I
know this is so in Sweden. We bemoan the fact that we cannot walk well and
cannot get to see as many of the sights as we would like in foreign countries.
She tells me she has a scouter she is intending to try out by putting her good
leg on the scouter and pushing off with her left or ‘drop foot’. She seems to
have been in as many countries as I have and I ask what she does. She whips out
a magnificent 8x10 promo card. It is time to board and we take off down the
runway exchanging emails.
This lady is a hero and how lucky I was to meet her. Her
name is Jamie Whitmore-Cardenas. As briefly as I can tell her story: swimmer
and runner in high school, degree in Criminology, married and husband got her
into Mountain Biking and Xterra (off-road triathlons). In the next seven years,
she earned 37 Championships, six U.S. Nationals and one world title. In 2008 she was diagnosed with a rare form of cancer, which
was wrapped around her sciatic nerve and she lost the use of most of her left
leg. Three years later she was through the cancer treatment, mother of twin
boys and went back into competition as a Para-cyclist and picked up six world
titles and set two world records. She is
also a motivational speaker around the world. (Just had an email from her and she is off to Rio next week to
compete.)
I shall be pleased to attend the festival this June as the
last time I was there was in 1997 and I write about this occasion in my book. I look forward to meeting John Fricke again,
who I have not seen since we were together at an International Judy Garland Club meeting in London some years ago, (www.judygarlandclub.org) and Brent Phillips, who wrote a book about Judy’s
good friend, Charles Walters. Lots of other exiting things are planned and I hope
many people will be able to attend. Check out their web site for information:
http://www.judygarlandmuseum.com
https://www.facebook.com/judygarlandmuseum
