Ok, in reality, I barely even made it out here to Provo, Utah. I was just
able to meet with my Stake President the night before so that I could be set
apart as a missionary. I got home and had to remain dressed in my whites and tie
as I packed my body-and-a-half sized duffel bag with everything I felt I would
need for the next two years. I began to freak out a bit as I thought of things I
though I would need, left behind things I realized were superfluous, and found
forms I didn't know existed that I had never sent in. Hyperventalating is an
understatement. Well, 2:30 am rolled around and I decided to get a bit of shut
eye before flying out of Mitchell Airport at 6:30. I woke back up at 3:50,
finished shoving a bunch of socks and other such junk in my bag, threw it in our
Honda Pilot, and drove off.
We arrived slightly behind schedule at the airport, but there was a very
friendly check in man waiting at the drop off area. I checked in, weighed my
bag, and received my boarding pass and baggage claim ticket. I proceeded slowly
up the escalator, resplendent in a blue pinstripe suit, sleek black shoes
(courtesy of Laura), a dashing red tie (courtesy of Brandon), and... MY TIES!!!
it was at this time I remebered that I had not packed my ties in my rush. I
would be left with but one tie until my family was able to send the rest to me.
But the worst was yet to come.
I had waited in line, slowly advancing, until I finally stood before the
agent would would direct me to empty my pockets, take off my shoes, and lose my
belt. Instead, she told me that my name was not my own, meaning that I had the
wrong ticket. It was 6:02 am, and I couldn't get on the plane. A nearby TSA
agent stepped over, and ran three laps around the airport before she had gotten
me a ticket, rerouted my bag, and returned triumphant. I was expedited through
the security, and boarded the plane 79 seconds before they locked the door. The
flight was uneventful (napped), the layover in Minneapolis- St. Paul was
uneventful (napped), and the flight over the mountains to land in Salt Lake was
Mostly uneventful (napped). BEfore I was able to let my eyelids droop over my
eyes, a simply dressed young woman turned to me and asked "Are you going to the
Missionary Training Center?" I nodded ad confirmed that I was indeed headed to
the MTC. A huge grin split her face as she responded "ME TOO!!!"
I was so gald for her spirited response. As I dwelled on it, I thought more
and more about how wonderful an experience I could have over the next two years
if only I allowed myself that joy. Her name is Sis. Salfi. She is from Canada,
and will be serving in the Denver South Mission.
When we landed in Salt Lake, I waited patiently for my ride, and eventually
Jared Bingham appeared as if summoned, walking towards me. He took me to a Soup,
Salad, and Sandwich place (Zupas, maybe) after a tour of Salt Lake, and we ate
with Patrick Carroll. I made it to the MTC, and found myself surrounded by
missionaries. My journey had only just begun.
A slightly more full report will follow in a week. In the meantime, feel
free to email me at gavin.strawn@myldsmail.net. If you
do so, please include a mailing address as I will not be able to email you back.
If you would like to mail me a letter or package (no food stuffs, most
unfortunately), that address is -Elder Gavin Dunlap Straw -2005 N 900 E -Provo,
UT 84604. If you feel so inclined, feel free to include a stamp.
I closing, I have already greatly loved this experience, and look forward
to another 103 such gleeful stories coming to you through my dearest mother who
has so gratefully accepted the responsibility of posting my emails on my blog,
and thence to my facebook. Cheers to all, and may your lives be as joyous as
these last ten days have been for me.
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