Pretty Special Woman

Glaciers, Puffins and Whales, Oh My

Glaciers, Puffins and Whales, Oh My

After breakfast, the list instructed them to head for Seward, a small seaport city to the east and south on beautiful Resurrection Bay. From there they would board a boat that would transport them to the Kenai Fjords. With a capacity of only sixty passengers and crew, the vessel was small enough to enter the tiny inlets where they could view the impressive glaciers. Edward snapped away with his new digital camera. Ethel had to coax him to allow her to photograph him with the scenery behind. Their senses were filled with the wind, chilly air and movement of the boat. Once, a bundled up and windblown Ethel suspected Edward of taking her picture. She had clearly instructed him that this was a Mimi no-no. He claimed only to try to capture the “calving” glacier. And he continually used her pseudo-name.

“Vivian, check out the humpback whale! Vivian, I got a shot of those puffins! Vivian, did you see the bald eagle?” His childlike enthusiasm eclipsed her discomfort of the charade. The moment felt too real.

The crew served them each a savory halibut sandwich for lunch. By mid-afternoon, they docked back at Seward. With daylight lasting until eleven, Edward suggested moving to the next item on the agenda. Ethel referred to the map and confidently drove them to the trailhead of Exit Glacier, just outside of town. The ranger station provided information for the hike which would take only a few hours roundtrip.

As they set off, Edward offered, “I haven’t hiked since my days in California.”

“You lived there for seven years?” Ethel recalled. He nodded.  It was his turn to carry on their budding tradition of telling their life stories.

The idea actually came from Artie. The majority of graduates from Presidents’ High would seek employment immediately or enlist in the military. Of the fifty or so that would go on to college, most would attend Philadelphia Community College, Temple, or one of the nearby branch campuses of Penn State. A few ventured further to other state schools. And an elite handful received acceptances and scholarships to Penn, Bucknell, Lafayette or other highly rated private institutions. Artie, however, imagined a different scenario.

It was early in their senior year when Artie rhetorically asked, “Who said, ‘Go west, young man’?”

“Thomas Wolfe,” Edward replied instantly.

“I’ve already checked it out.” Of course he had. Artie showed Edward the abundant literature he had compiled. No doubt they could be accepted to Stanford University. Their only stumbling block would involve scholarships and grant money. They had no idea how their exceedingly high grades and SAT scores coupled with their dire financial status would impact the situation. The prestigious university in Palo Alto, California granted them both full rides.

Good-byes proved more difficult than either anticipated. Sarah held back her tears until after her beloved son left. Artie’s family sobbed and hugged for a solid hour, according to Edward’s watch. But the duo boarded the Greyhound bus, finally, and headed to the Golden State.

They both chose business as their major but diverged by the end of the first semester. Artie felt drawn to the creativity of Marketing. Edward predictably chose accounting. The childhood friends now lived amicably together for four years as roommates. They worked part-time in the dining hall which provided them only enough spending money for bare necessities and one trip per year home, thereby putting their social life on hold.

Nonetheless, the four exciting years flew by. Edward set aside a few dollars per week during his senior year to fly his mother out for graduation.  Artie’s family drove cross country solidly packed in a mini-van.