Where Are You, Tommy Lad?

Copyright: June 24, 1994
Thomas K. Hyland, Jr.

 
It was a steaming hot Friday evening in June, 1994. I was sitting in our air-conditioned basement, waiting with our dog Heather, for my son to call from Ireland. It was about 7:30 p.m., and I was growing a bit concerned, because the expected call was now a half-hour late. The original "plan" was for T.J. (Thomas Jonathon) to call us each and every Friday, between 6:00 and 7:00 p.m. (our time) so we would know that he was okay, and to get his itinerary for the upcoming week. Today was the 17th, and he only has one week left to finish his three-week "back-packing" tour of the Emerald Isle.

Tom left on Monday May 23rd, just two days after his graduation from Loyola College, to begin his month-long adventure in Europe. His first non-stop trans-Atlantic flight took him to Gatwick Airport in London. From there, after a five hour "layover", he flew to Frankfurt, Germany. A college friend, Bob LaPointe, met him at the airport, and the two of them spent a week touring parts of Germany. When Bob left on the 29th, to return home for his sister's graduation, T.J. struck out on his own, making his way by: train, bus, boat, plane, and "thumb" --- to Ireland.

His first destination was the University of Ulster, in Jordanstown, where another college friend, Tas (and his girlfriend, Ploumi) were expecting him. Of course, our son's original itinerary "conveniently" omitted telling his parents that it was in Belfast -- you know, the place where the shootings and bombings occur! I can tell you that I really "sweated-out" that first week, waiting for that first phone call. Anyway, he spent a week or so with them, seeing parts of the northern portion of Northern Ireland.

From there, his basic plan was to head West, then South, then East, then North, making a counter-clockwise circle of the island. He was traveling mostly along the coastline, with occasional incursions inland, to see specific points of interest along the way. His final destination in the Land of the Shamrocks is Dublin, where he will take a flight back to London on the 25th of June. Next will be the long flight home to Baltimore. Then and only then, my heart and soul will both be at ease. It is a most difficult thing, as a loving parent, to not worry, when your child is far off somewhere, and you know that it is absolutely, physically impossible for you to even talk to him or her, let alone be able to help, if needed. I, for one, have prayed a lot.

Anyway, the prior Friday, after our brief phone conversation, I took an old map of Erin, and plotted Tom's course, circling the cities and towns in orange marker, highlighting both where he had been, as well as where he would go. As I did this, searching for the crowded little strange names, I made an astonishing discovery. Not far from his planned route, nestled way down on the southern coast of Cork county, an estimated fifty or sixty miles from Blarney, was a small seaport with a very familiar name --- BALTIMORE! I never new that it existed -- a "sister" port that might well have been the original? I must certainly do some research on the two cities' histories, in order to appease my curiosity.

It is now 8:00 p.m. -- and still no call! As I anxiously wait, and scribble these words on a lined pad, I wonder whether or not our son is aware of my newfound discovery. I grow more impatient, just "dying" to tell him about it. Will he have time to go there? Can he get someone to take some pictures of him in Baltimore, Ireland? I hope so!

The clock keeps ticking off the minutes. Now it's 8:15. Where are you, Tommy Lad? Why don't you call? He couldn't have forgotten. Is something wrong? The silence is broken by a loud and distinct "bark". Nature calls! "Heather, do you have to do something?" A sincere and almost desperate verbal response is heard. Okay, okay -- I'll take a quick break -- be right back!

Guess what? HE CALLED --- AND I MISSED IT !!! Around 8:20 or so, I let the dog back inside, started making myself a roast beef sandwich for dinner, and the phone rang in the kitchen. Knowing that the "cordless wonder" was on the "fritz", I dropped everything, ran downstairs to the basement (good, only two rings had rung) grabbed the regular "wired" phone off the wall, and pantingly yelled, "HELLO!" Whereupon, to my absolute and utter dismay, my daughter Ann said, "Tom just called." I bellowed -- "you mean he is gone already? Why didn't you call me? I've been waiting over two hours!" As I sputtered, and stammered, and fumed, Ann calmly explained that she told Tom to hold on, and she would get me; but he was in a hurry, and didn't want to talk long. He quickly dictated his itinerary for the coming week, which Ann wrote down. Naturally, there was no mention of any -- Baltimore -- on his list. PHOOEY! RATS! DAMN! and a few other split-expletives gushed forth from a frustrated parent. After listening to Ann, and copying down the "relayed" information, "Mister Hyde" slinked away, and the meek, mild-mannered "Doctor Jekyll" returned to a reasonable semblance of normality.

At this juncture, I explained to my daughter -- why I wanted to speak to my son, what I had discovered, what I had just been writing, and why I was so upset and disappointed -- but, she had no way of knowing. In the famous words of Robert Burns, " The best laid plans of mice and men, oft' gang awry!" SO TRUE, SO TRUE ! C'est la vie!

Around 8:35 p.m. or so, when Ann and I met, face-to-face, in the kitchen, I realized several things which one might deem to be positive in nature, namely:

As I opened the basement door, and started strolling down the steps, I said to my daughter, "Ann, if you ever get married, and you ever have children -- please remember this experience.


I DON'T CARE WHAT HE SAYS ---
I WANT TO TALK TO HIM!"

Two days later, we were about to go out the door when the phone rang. It was my son, calling to wish me a "Happy Father's Day". Yes, he knew about Baltimore, Ireland; but, no, he would not have time to go there. As I subsequently found out, Ann knew all about the proposed call, on Friday; but, she had done as requested, and kept it a "secret", so I would be surprised. That's why T.J. didn't want to talk to me on Friday!

WELL, SHUT MY MOUTH, I DID IT AGAIN ---
PUT MY FOOT IN IT !

Do I have two great "offsprings", or what?

Sleinte'