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It Is A Small World
We entered the old airport with but a few lights. Bulbs sending their errie glow over a primitive setting. The American Embassy did not know of my arrival. No one came to meet me!
Out of the semi-darkness, an individual emerged who fortunately spoke English and learned of my predicament. He represented the Royal Dutch Airlines and took me and my suitcase to the KLM rest house. That iron bed with immaculate bedclothes was something out of Heaven. The Good Lord was watching over me. The KLM agent was a Mr. Valavani.
Now the story becomes more interesting! Mr. Valavani called the American Embassy and they sent a very large black South African in a white gallabea and turban to pick me up in an official Embassy car. We made it through a most amazing conglomeration of cars, buses, carts, donkeys, and camels!
Rule 1, I discovered, that the first car there has the right of way, and there is a wild fight for position at every traffic light. Unbelievably, we made it after a 45-minute, almost deadly, ride. How we missed those careening cars along the way, I will never know!
Now we jump forward about 10 years. Bunnie is at the University of Alabama, a newly appointed Director of International Students, and had become friends with a secretary to then president of the university, Dr. Raymond McLain. He had brought with him from a past assignment at the American Cairo University, a young woman, Helen Valavani. Helen spoke fluent Italian, French, Spanish, Greek, English, and Arabic. A very talented young woman, Helen turned out to be the wife of Mr. Valavani, who had rescued me on my first arrival in Cairo! Sadly, Mrs. Valavani’s husband had died of a heart attack. There is more to come.
Not long after Helen’s arrival, we were having a party. We invited Helen and needed an extra male, so we invited Kenneth Coons, whose wife had died. We introduced Helen to Kenneth, who was an avid sailor. After the first evening together, I commented that they would soon be married. Within a few months, the prophecy became true. The marriage and wedding luncheon took place in our house at 1312 Indian Hills Circle. What an exciting commitment between the two!
Kenneth, a professor of engineering at the university had a 60-foot sailboat with a copper nickel hull (to keep the barnacles off) that was built in the Netherlands. It was Helen’s wedding present and honeymoon suite. He and Helen took the Asperida down through the canals of Holland and France (where she was built), to the River Rhone, to the Mediterranean at Port Saint Etiene. An invitation from there to come sail with them as crew was too exciting for us to refuse, so we were soon off to join them. Once there, we became true lovers of the sea. Our first sail was past the Isle de Levant, France’s largest nudist colony. I was at the wheel and called Karen, our daughter, to search the sights ahead with binoculars. "Daddy, those people don’t have any clothes on!" She exclaimed!
Later in the day, we docked at Marseilles. Imagine an all-new crew putting into a large harbor with an American flag blowing in the breeze at our stern.
We successfully docked after two tries, after a locked mooring chain, taking off the rudder of a small sail boat already dockside and moving awfully close to a 2 ½ million dollar "stink pot", as our skipper referred to them. By the time we were tied up, stern first to the wharf, we had collected a large crowd of onlookers, who applauded our efforts.
That evening, Helen earned our undying admiration as she led us down the street and negotiated with the owners of Bistros along the way. Finally, we found a great place and an excellent buillaise for a fraction of the al a cart price and with a cold bottle – or two- of white wine. Needless to say, we enjoyed a magnificent evening.
- Phillip E. LaMoreaux
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(800) 472-1988 x 1054
