On to Bern

Brent’s “Mission Parents,” Fielding and Carolyn Nelson, seated in both these photos, graciously invited us to a gathering in their parlor to see off the departing missionaries.

It must have been particularly touching for Brent to be “sung off” by a guitar-wielding missionary quartet, inasmuch as he’d spent much of his mission as a traveling participant in just such a group. But that’s for his story. Bro’: do I recall that you were called “Mormonaires?”

As we checked in at the Swissair counter, I noticed that the flight number on our tickets didn’t sport the “Y” that distinguished up-to-date jet aircraft from the old-fashioned prop jobs. I protested that we’d paid the extra fare for jet flight, to which the nice minion replied, kindly but archly, that we really didn’t want to fly THIS leg on a jet.

I subsided and soon saw what he meant. We boarded a Fairchild propeller plane whose passenger cabin was slung under the wings, so that we had this amazing view of the Alps, as we flew very, very slowly from Geneva to Bern.

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