Flight's all arranged...
Dec. 18th, 2004 11:40 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
xp_cyclopsAlex and I are leaving on Thursday for Anchorage, and coming back the following Thursday. I figured a week would probably do for a first visit, plus I really don't want to be away from the mansion for too long. (This is where you can all mock my anal-retentiveness. Or maybe just my fundamental pessimism.)
I guess I could tell you all a little more about this, since Alex was pretty unspecific. Phillip and Deborah Summers are our father's parents. They live just outside Anchorage, where they run a charter air service. Phillip was in the Air Force before he retired, and our father followed in his footsteps. So that makes three generations of pilots in the family, which is sort of interesting, I suppose.
The reasons why we're all just reconnecting now are many and complicated. Basically, Phillip and Deborah were under the impression that Alex and I had died in the plane crash that killed our parents, so they didn't know to look for us. Call it bureaucratic incompetence on a grand scale - or at the very least, two bureaucracies not talking to each other. The Air Force never found the crash site, and the local social services where Alex and I wound up never made the connection. It might have been different if Alex hadn't been so young, or if I hadn't been in a coma... I guess there's no real point in talking about what might have been, though.
It should be interesting, meeting them. At the very least they should be able to help fill in some blanks. I've never liked the fact that I remember so little about life before the plane crash. Part of me knows that I was old enough I should have, so it's always nagged at me.
I guess I could tell you all a little more about this, since Alex was pretty unspecific. Phillip and Deborah Summers are our father's parents. They live just outside Anchorage, where they run a charter air service. Phillip was in the Air Force before he retired, and our father followed in his footsteps. So that makes three generations of pilots in the family, which is sort of interesting, I suppose.
The reasons why we're all just reconnecting now are many and complicated. Basically, Phillip and Deborah were under the impression that Alex and I had died in the plane crash that killed our parents, so they didn't know to look for us. Call it bureaucratic incompetence on a grand scale - or at the very least, two bureaucracies not talking to each other. The Air Force never found the crash site, and the local social services where Alex and I wound up never made the connection. It might have been different if Alex hadn't been so young, or if I hadn't been in a coma... I guess there's no real point in talking about what might have been, though.
It should be interesting, meeting them. At the very least they should be able to help fill in some blanks. I've never liked the fact that I remember so little about life before the plane crash. Part of me knows that I was old enough I should have, so it's always nagged at me.
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no subject
Date: 2004-12-18 09:35 am (UTC)And in the end you can sell the story to television producers for one of those holiday specials. Get heated seats for the Jet, or something.