Hawaii Here I Come

   Hawaii Here I Come

Suzanne Marsh

June, 1968

A voice transmitted from a ham radio turned my life into one gigantic panic attack:

“You have to be in Hawaii by June 6.” Before I could reply the voice was gone, I had less than five days to pack my suitcase and go to the closest Air Force Base to fly military discount, on a commercial jet. Sounds simple right? Wrong! There was nothing simple about this I was eighteen years old at the time a new mom, with a husband in Vietnam. I had no idea what do to; or how to do it. My dad had served in the military during World War II, and he took charge. The first thing we had to do was to go to the Air Force Base in Niagara Falls. We were allowed on base, with no real problems. We were escorted to an area of the base that handled these things. They took my picture for identification purposes and told me to show that to whatever airline I chose. Dad then drove me to the airport in Buffalo, where I attempted to book a flight on United, they were booked solid so I tried American, and they told me I could fly stand-by.

That was not going to work the standby was full also, I needed help; back we went to the Air Force Base. I talked to the Sergeant, who went to the Captain and right up the food chain. The sergeant returned minutes later:

“Mam, if American can’t get you on standby we can fly you over in a C140, it won’t be

the most comfortable but it will get you to Hawaii.”

Silly me, I had no idea what a C140 was, I asked; the sergeant pulled aside a shade, on the runway was this huge gray prop plane. That would not do, no, no, oh hell no! Dad attempted to reconcile my thinking, perhaps the C140 was my best chance to get to Hawaii. Like my father before me, I dug my heels in there was no way I would rather not go.

The following morning the phone rang, it was American Airlines, and they had a cancellation, would I be able to leave at five on June 6? No one told me about time changes I asked if I could make it to Hawaii by midnight? The voice on the other end of the phone chortled:

“You will be there late in the afternoon what time is the plane you are meeting supposed

to arrive?” That was a good question, I did not have an answer for.

“I don’t know sometime on the seventh of June.”

“Then you will be there on time, enjoy your trip mam.”

The following morning I was like a chicken with my head cut off. I had to pack, my parents were going to watch the baby; all I had to do was make it to the plane on time. That is easier said than done, I am not a morning person, considering Dad and I would have to be gone by four in the morning. I had traveled on vacations with my parents but I was flying to Hawaii alone I get airsick looking out a second-story window, I would be further up in that plane. Someone suggested Dramamine, I hoped it worked otherwise I could have problems.

We arrived at the airport the next morning in darkness, I could barely make out the outline of the plane I was about to board. Arrangements had been made for me to meet an aunt and uncle in Los Angeles airport, since this was my first trip away from home, it made sense. I knew if I missed any connection; I would not make it to Ohau Hawaii on time to meet the plane. I kissed Dad goodbye on the cheek and strode slowly toward the area where the plane was boarding. About twenty minutes later, the plane began to move, and so did my stomach, I took Dramamine, which put me to sleep. Sliip would have been great except that the plane had a layover. Fortunately, I did not have to change planes so I simply slept through passengers disembarking.

I woke up with a start when I realized I was actually on the plane, in my not overly wide awake state I asked the stewardess where we were; she said we would be landing in Los Angeles in twenty minutes. I had a picture of the aunt and uncle I was to meet so I hoped they would recognize me. The plane landed, and my next flight was on Pan Am since they went overseas. No one told me that the terminals were a mile from where I had just disembarked, we had to hurry since I only had forty minutes between flights. It was a rapid walk, especially for the aunt and uncle, they were in the late sixties at the time. We made it with three minutes to spare. I clamored aboard, the Pan Am stewardess was a very lovely woman, we spoke a few times during the flight, and I think she realized I was air sick, I made the mistake of looking out the window, I saw the wing and a lot of blue. I wasn’t sure if it was the ocean or the sky maybe both.

The flight arrived around midnight, I had no hotel reservations however I found a reservation desk for the Hilton Hawaiian, I told them the problem, that I had no reservation ergo no place to stay. The reservation people placed me in a lovely room overlooking Diamond Head. The blue waters of the Pacific Ocean were astounding to see and hear. I spent five days there, then it was time to return home.

I got to the airport in Honolulu and boarded the Pan Am jet that would take me to Los Angeles. Two days before I had taken a tour of Pearl Harbor and sat on the top deck of the tour boat; I could barely get my dress on, I did not put stockings on and my hat I carried. I burned so badly that any place that was exposed was beet red.

My parents met me at the Buffalo airport, and my mom being my mom admonished me with:

“Where are your stockings and gloves? Why is your face so red?” Dad sort of chortled as we walked back to the car.

That was the first time I ever left my hometown of Buffalo, New York, at eighteen, full of adventure. That was over fifty years ago, I can laugh about it now but back then somehow it just did not seem funny.