The Telegram

Circa 1978

On vacation, a call from home seldom bodes good news. While staying with relatives in Wisconsin, I received a call from my neighbor in Colorado. The Western Union man had just left her a telegram from my father. He said it appeared to be urgent and asked if she could contact me. She read these ten carefully selected words:

WAYLAID BY BRIGANDS I'M OK SEND $250 AMERICAN EXPRESS COPENHAGEN=
DAD=

Great! My father had gone off to Europe for the dream trip of his life -- half cocked, as usual. Now he is in another bind and sends us a cryptic note from somewhere in Europe? A master wordsmith, this was conciseness to a fault.

Brigands? I had to check the dictionary. Thieves! Was he hurt? Where was he? No way to know.

Send $250? I didn't have that kind of money with me -- had to borrow it from my uncle. From the bank office, it was like sending money to outer space.

Not being able call Europe and ask, "How's George?," we just had to wait. We returned to Colorado a week later to find a letter from Dad, postmarked a week before the telegram. Recovering in a Paris hospital, he wrote that a thief had thrown him off a standing train onto the live track side -- but not without a fight from my 67-year-old old man. He suffered a skull fracture, concussion, and broken collarbone. He felt okay; French food stank; and the nuns treated him well. In a few days, he planned to continue on to October Fest and then the Scandinavian countries. 

We didn't know any more until he returned home to Montana and gave us a call. He had to borrow $11 from a stranger at the Calgary airport to finish his odyssey back to Helena.

We learned the most about his travel adventures from a series of columns he wrote for a local newspaper. Dad brought back dozens of fabulous realities. Enough material for many  fascinating stories -- where the reader, like his son, asked: "How could you get yourself into so many stupid situations?"

Dad not only observed crazy fabulous realities, he created them.