Europe 1978 and Europe 2009

In 1978, Jimmy Carter was president, and Grease topped box office charts. My mom Debbie was fresh out of high school and living in Santa Rosa, California with her parents, and planning for what she called "the trip of a lifetime."
One of her good friends Wynn was living with her family in Germany while her dad was stationed at the U.S. army base in Stuttgart and invited Debbie to join her and her two sisters, Maca and Dawn, on a road trip through Europe.

The girls piled into a VW bug and left, driving down through Germany, Switzerland, Italy and crossing over into Monaco. They then drove along the Mediterranean through the south of France, Spain and up to Paris. The two month trip was captured by my mom on her Kodak 110 camera accompanied by her daily entries in a brown journal.

After Europe, she returned to California, attended Chico State University and eventually moved up to Washington with my dad. She never had the opportunity to go back to Europe.


Debbie in front of Buckingham Palace, 1978


Jump forward 22 years and some odd months. I'm a senior at the University of Washington, preparing to graduate with a degree in Journalism. Like most other students, I'm wondering what I'll do post-graduation...get a job? Move away? Or travel the world?

One evening I was doing laundry, avoiding a paper that needed to be written when my phone rang. I ignored it. Later I checked it to find a missed call from my dad and an accompanying voicemail.

"Erika," my dad said. "Call me please. I have some good news."

Now, sometimes when my dad calls me with good news, it's news about the dog learning a new trick, or maybe my brother getting a good grade in high school. When I picked up the phone to return his call, I didn't expect anything significant.

What he told me had me in complete shock.

"I've booked a flight for you and mom to Paris for this summer," he told me as soon as he heard my voice. "I have a lot of frequent flier miles expiring soon so I thought you guys could use them."

I was shocked to say the least. I've never traveled extensively; the majority of our family's vacations growing up were to visit family in California. Going to France wasn't even on my radar.

That was several months ago.

Now I'm finally leaving. My flight leaves tomorrow morning and I'm not sure if the reality of this trip has sunk in.

Thirty-one years ago, my mom felt the same way.

"I've always wanted to Europe and now my dream has come true; and I'm only 18," she wrote in the first entry in her journal.


I feel the same way.

I've always wanted to see France and now my dream has come true--and I'm only 22.



Debbie's journal