Indy or Bust
My son goes (went) to a private high school, here in Northern
California. As I read the Senior Calendar, I noticed that Senior Finals
were scheduled to end the Friday just prior to Race day. A note on the
bottom of the calendar says, "Seniors are expected and, required to
take final exams as scheduled. No early or, late test taking will be
permitted."
Well, these people in California, really don't understand about MY
family's DNA. It is Hoosier DNA, and it as been passed on to yet
another generation. School systems in Indiana understand Hoosier
DNA. "...was at the track", was an excused absence, in my day.
As I took down the 2004 calendar and replaced it with the 2005
calendar, and as my son's Final Semester began, I hit the internet. I
managed to locate a pair of "cheap" seats on a Northwest Airlines red
eye flight from San Francisco to Indianapolis, via Minneapolis. The
flight leaves SFO, just after midnight, and the connector out of MSP
arrives into Indianapolis, just after 9:30 AM, Saturday before the
race. "That is our flight, I say to myself, "have a little time to talk to
mom & dad, buy some stuff for lunch, go to bed, wake up, and go to the
track. PERFECT!
Not willing to take a chance on some travel agent screwing things up,
or a glitch in Internet bookings, I went to the Northwest Airlines
counter at the San Francisco Airport to purchase passage personally,
and in cash. No chance of Credit Card companies messing things up here.
Cash always clears on the first try.
The agent, as she is typing in our information, tells me, "Well, you are
in luck, these are the last two tickets on this flight out of SFO, and,
on the flight to Indianapolis, I only have 4 seats. I wonder why?" I
smile back at her and say, "Memorial Day Travelers." She looks at me
and says, "Yeah, but this is January, we usually don't sell out flights 5
months prior." I just shrug my shoulders and say, "I dunno---I do have
confirmed tickets, right." She says, "Yes", and hands me my receipt.
My son is in a band, with guys he has been hanging out with since the
4th grade. His band has developed a following around town. As part of
"Senior Week", the school hosts a party, where the schools' unofficial
garage bands perform. My son's band agreed to do the show. The school
party is traditionally held on the night of the final day of school for the
Seniors. He assured me, "We are the third band to perform, we go on
at 7:30, we are off at 9:00, I'll be home at 9:15. We can leave as soon
as I get a quick shower, and be at the airport by 10:45, 11:00 at the
latest."
Friday, before race day, everything goes as planned. My son comes
home from school, packs his bags, puts them into the car, grabs
something to eat, and goes over our last minute travel plans. Just
before he leaves to pick up his girl friend, he assures me, "I'm all
packed and ready, I'll be home at at 9:15, I promise. My suitcase is
already in the car. Bye."
My wife and I watch TV and wait for my son to come home. At 9:10 PM,
we hear my son's car drive up in the driveway. It takes him a little
longer than normal to come into the front door. As he hops into the
house he says, "Someone spilled water on the stage, I sprained my
ankle pretty bad. Let's go to the airport."
My wife, the nurse, and not having "Hoosier DNA," took one look at his
ankle and said, "We have to go to the Emergency Room." A short
"discussion" followed. I finally said, "To sit and wait in the emergency
room, takes about 3 hours, minimum. We'll have more time to sit in the
Emergency Room in Indiana. If we stay here, we miss the flight." While
my wife taped up my son's ankle. I dug some crutches out of the
garage. We arrive at San Francisco Airport pretty much as planned.
When we arrive in Indianapolis, my dad met us at baggage claim and,
took us to his house. We stay just long enough to tell my mom, "We
made it. We are going to the hospital."
St. Vincent's Hospital is less than a mile from my parent's place. My
son was taken into the back as I watched TV in the waiting area. About
an hour later, my son emerges from the back room in a wheel chair, and
wearing a soft splint on his ankle. The doctor explains everything to me
and, what to do until the swelling goes down.
At that point, I looked the doctor dead in the eye and say, "Is he going
to be all right to go to the race tomorrow?" The Doctor said, "Look,
you took an overnight flight from California, just to go to the race.
Seriously now, if I told you, 'No, you can't go to the race', would it
make any difference? Would you listen? No, I don't think so."
She then turned to my son and said, "When I was a High School Senior,
exactly the same point in my life, as you are now, I fell and broke my
wrist on Race day morning. We were just leaving the house to go to the
track. I wouldn't let my mom and dad take me to the hospital until
after the race. I know what this is all about. Be careful, and enjoy the
race."
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