Welcome to the Mission Field Elder Howe (August 13, 1968)

I left the Language Training Mission in Provo, Utah around 3:00 in the morning (without my plane tickets. Yes, it was a mess) on a bus bound for the SLC airport. I was with several other missionaries including my companion, Elder Babbit, none of whom were going to my mission (Guatemala-El Salvador). This unfortunate circumstance (no companion for the trip) came about because I had finished the 12-week Spanish course in eight weeks and he, being from the Mormon Colonies in Mexico, completed it in six. He was on his way to Mexico City I think. Being way before 9/11 my Mom, my sister Lorna, my girlfriend Jane-the-Older, and Elder Babbit were able to be with me at the gate. I gave him my camera and he snapped a picture of my last kiss with Jane before the two-year famine then he tossed it to me as I walked out to climb up the stair thingie onto the plane. I don't know if the kiss was a no-no or not but I'd seen it happen elsewhere that morning. Carrying all my earthly possessions that didn't fit in my two suitcases, to include three copies of the Book of Mormon in Spanish, several pamphlets, my scriptures, a raincoat, and a bleeding umbrella (this was before the collapsible kind) up those stairs into the waiting Frontier propeller-driven plane I went. Let the adventure begin...

I had never been on an airliner before and all I knew was my itinerary said: Frontier Airlines to Los Angeles, 2-hour layover there, Pan American Airways to Guatemala City then on to San Salvador if necessary. No problem getting to LAX. No idea how to find Pan American Airways once I got there. Every time I asked where the PanAM desk was, I was told over there. So I would go over there, ask the location of the PanAm desk and again be told, over there. I went through several iterations of this without locating the aforementioned desk when a kind gentleman came out from behind the evidently wrong desk in front of me and led me out the door, pointed across the parking lot that was the size of New Hampshire, and said, "see that little blue dot on the horizon?" "That's the PanAM sign.

Off I trudge across miles of steaming pavement in my dark blue three-piece, non-vented suit carrying 87 lbs of paraphernalia when, indeed inside was the PanAm desk! I checked in and the nice lady said, "You need to hurry to your gate." "Where's that?" I ask. "Over there" she says. Same as before I keep going "over there" until someone says "There you are!" "We've held the plane for you, go right on board." Perspiring rather profusely, I made it to my seat, shed the raincoat and such, then settled in for the trip. We took off out over the ocean and it was quite pretty and way joyous to be on my way at last. So much for the 2-hour "layover".

We had been in the air for quite some time and had been given lunch (this was back when they actually fed you real food) when the captain announced that we were over El Paso, Texas. EL PASO BLEEDING TEXAS?!! I'm on the wrong plane! I should be flying down the coast of Mexico! What the heck are we doing over El Paso? I had my sweaty fist on the stewardess' call button so I could have them turn around or throw me out the window or something when I heard the captain continue that we would be turning South to fly over the Gulf of Mexico on our way to Guatemala City. Phew! Crisis averted. In reality, which had little to do with my young geographically challenged brain, Guatemala City lies due South of New Orleans, Louisiana.

I had struck up a conversation with my seat-mate who was a monk on his way to serve in a monastery in Costa Rica. We had a fine discussion about the gospel and I gave him one of my Spanish Books of Mormon. We traded addresses and corresponded a few time then lost contact with each other. It made for a pleasant trip once my heart started beating again after the El Paso scare.

We landed well in Guatemala City where I was met by the APs and whisked off to the mission home to meet the president, David G. Clark. We had a nice interview then a very good chicken dinner. In the interview he saw that my ticket was good all the way to San Salvador so he said that's where I'd begin my mission; San Salvador 4th Branch with Elder Bruce Blaser from Boise, Idaho. Back to the airport I go and, once again I'm leavin' on a jet plane all by myself headed for the great unknown.

To be continued...