childhood memories

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The holidays are always a time to think about family. When I was growing up, the holidays meant travel because we would go to family or family would come to us. And often, after dinner was eaten, dishes washed and presents opened, the downtime would slowly fill with family stories – and sometimes even family photos.

I’m thinking about family connections a lot for another reason too.

I’ve launched myself on a completely overwhelming project: to organize the boxes and albums of family photos in my guardianship as well as my own rolls and rolls of prints – then to scan, tag and upload them so that captions can be added and corrected and prints can be made for anyone who has been looking for a copy of that exact photo since forever.

Flipping through the stacks, I’m flooded with memories, realizing that it hasn’t been just me growing and changing each year but my entire family. The family portraits from the early 1900’s are followed by graduation portraits, wedding photos – and then first Christmases.

Even as I wade deeper and deeper through the boxes, wondering how I convinced myself this was a good idea, I’m grateful for the obsessive labeling habit I got into after helping with tornado clean up in high school and aunts, uncles and cousins who I hope will step in to help me correct and caption many of these images once I get them scanned and posted!

The thing is, this project isn’t just for me, or even for us. There’s a whole new generation of nieces and nephews having their first, second and third Christmases now. Their photo albums may be online instead of on the shelf. But the people, and the meaning, will be the same.

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Tel Aviv landing

One of the most basic elements of travel is how you do it. There’s planes, trains, automobiles – and that’s just the beginning. Whether you’re documenting an even for others or just wanting to remember for yourself, these all make great photo opportunities. Actually being in transport is one of the best moments to grab video footage of the city, country, or sky rolling by.

pre-flight in Taupo

As a pilot’s daughter, I’d be starting a series on transportation with planes no matter what. Today is especially timely, as I’m en route to a 2 week class in Dubai. I’ll be drafting on my notepad between Phx & Atlanta, and if I’m lucky, uploading through airport internet before the 2nd, longer flight.

So. Planes. How to summarize a lifelong relationship in just a few words? My 2nd earliest memory is an aerial view – caribou on the tundra. My parents met in Seattle and would go up to Alaska regularly for summer to hike. My dad and another pilot ran bush pilot service for scientists, photographers, naturalists, hikers. My mom and I spent one early summer in Kaktovik were 24 hour sunlight meant it quickly became clear that I needed independent verification even for the stories my parents told me. After all, how could it be 2am when it was bright as day outside? Definitely just a nefarious plot to trick me into going to bed early, and cutting tundra play time unnaturally short.

family trip

As I grew up, we split our family trips between road trips to camp in Colorado, commercial flights to see family in California, and borrowing my dad’s friend’s Piper Archer to go see friends in Wisconsin. Large airports are gateways to opportunity; small airports gateways to the sky.

I try to guess the moments of takeoff and landing, pack lots of gum in case my ears lock up, and firmly believe that the trip starts even before you leave your house for the airport – not just when you land and pick up your luggage.

And for me, the journey is part of the story – the online check-in kiosque mix-up (for some reason, I do not exist…) and the time we made it from the breakfast place across town, through rental return and security, to the gate in about 30 minutes. (we even, somehow, beat the plane, if barely). Even Thursday’s overpass terror will turn into an adventure once the heart rate slows and the insurance agent has checked everything out.

nearly Nairobi sunrise

But the big adventures, the most magic – those long haul flights where you quietly board the flight in an empty Detroit winter and descend through clouds and mitzvahs to an airport that welcomes you home from right to left, or disembarking on a shimmering, melting tarmac to the shouts of competing baggage handlers and smells nearly as vivid as the colors.

Sometimes I think I learn the most when everything is unfamiliar, including myself.

takeoff from PHX


This winter break (for the northern hemisphere, at least) my Dad will be flying himself to meetings all over both NZ islands, my brother will be crossing the Pacific for some temporary parental supervision and some good football bonding (the real stuff, none of those pads and helmets), and I’ll be looking down on the Atlantic in a few hours. If I’m lucky and the skies are clear, I’ll take some pictures.

When I get a chance, I’ll add the pictures that go with this entry, and there’ll be a some kind of gallery of plane related pictures – and I want you to tell me where you would go if you had one round trip ticket to anywhere in the world?

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radio

So the timing of this Must See Monday could not have been better – in the middle of the radio segment of broadcast, sound is a big topic on all of our minds lately. This week’s speaker, Susan Feeney is Senior Editor for Planning at All Things Considered.

Why is this relevant to travel? Well, I probably inherited the itchy feet and restless nature, but I might have gotten the idea that I could tie this into making a living from somewhere else. As I listened to the clips Feeney brought as examples, I was transported back to how I felt when I was a kid and the radio, especially NPR, first started to take me places. Growing up without reliable television reception meant I spent a lot of time listening to radio in the house, as well as in the car; I heard news long before I got older and interested in newspapers. The drive to school, five minutes early on but, as I got older and switched around a bit, up to half an hour, meant morning updates. Road trips meant frantic searches on the radio dial for the next public broadcast station, because static and station boundaries always seemed to hit just at the good parts.

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One of the reporters I remember most is Sylvia Poggioli – her stories and, even more, her frequent signoff from Rome, sunk deep into my memory and imagination, even as she continues to broadcast.

Now, I still put radio on whenever I’m in the car. However, a bike commute means I drive much, much less and the unexpected (and probably only) downside means much, much less radio.

It was startling, after just a semester, to see how differently I could listen to a radio piece. Feeney’s discussion of each piece, and radio in general, really made the presentation even deeper. Information, like behind the scenes information like what happened to the journalists reporting on the earthquake from China, how their stories got put together, or the reaction afterward made good listening. But they helped us understand how reporters operate in tense, emotional, possibly dangerous situations and still get their jobs done. These examples also illustrated some of the differences between radio and other formats, especially the discussion of whether the family’s search for their son would have been different in print or television.

RadioAntennaes

Feeney played a piece on Hurricane Katrina by Robert Siegel to discuss accountability journalism, a piece which also happened to have very little natural sound, but a high emotional impact for many listeners.

She also played two pieces from a series by Melissa Block that took place in Sichuan province, China. The first actually recorded the 2008 earthquake that hit Sichuan province and the second documented a couple’s search for family members. A third piece, which I came across on NPR’s website, has Block’s follow-up work one year later in pictures as well as sound.

Overall, while I wish I had more time in radio this semester, an evening listening to/with Feeney is the perfect way to keep me interested in sound – and set the bar very, very high for anyone who wants to get involved.

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