weir cook

Just a quick post from the airport. My flight to Philadelphia leaves soon. As you can see, I'm well wired. My intention is to post each day from Ireland. I'm making no promises, I might meet a nice age-appropriate sheep farmer or something.

Mom and Dad dropped me off. I miss the good old days of being able to see people off.

When I was a kid the Indianapolis International Airport was called Weir Cook, named for World War I flying ace Harvey Weir Cook. When the airport opened in 1928 it occupied 900 acres to 7700 now. The airport is in the middle of a big expansion adding a midfield terminal and moving the highway.

I cannot tell you how excited we used to get when we got to go to the airport. I was so big and fun. And you could usually count on getting a treat, something exotic like a Coke and popcorn. We were a good welcoming crew. My sisters have continued the tradition. You can count on being greeted with a sign, bells or something exciting when they pick you up from the airport. I started to write that maybe we needed to get out more as children, but I think it instilled a good sense of excitement over travel- whether we were flying, or someone else.

Okay, I'm headed for one last potty break before I get on the plane. TMI, I know.

Woo Hoo!