I was wearing a sweater in Gulfport Mississippi, in September. Not one of those open weave, lightweight cotton summer sweaters. No, it was tightly knitted wool and it was topped with a leather jacket. The thermometer said something akin to 85F (29C). Mississippi itself was a waypoint where I had learned a new trade. I had learned much more than how to write code, I had also learned that the place where I grew up nearly 2000 miles away, was a world apart from the deep south’s swamps and dark memories kept in the clapboard shacks behind antebellum mansions.
A fellow traveler at the airport asked me where I was headed. I replied Germany and he nodded with dawning comprehension at my clothing.
“I guess it must be mighty chilly there if that’s what you’re wearing in this heat”
“They tell me it’s highs in the 50s (10s) and I’ve been here all summer”
“What’s taking y’all all the way to Germany?”
“I’m in the Air Force.”
“Ah right, I shoulda known seeing how y’all is boarding in the Gulf Coast and heading to New York. Y’all ever been to New York before?”
“Nope. I’m just there for an hour or so and then I’m off to Frankfurt”
“Ahh so where you from anyway?”
“LA”
“Lower Alabama? You don’t sound local so you must mean the other LA, well good luck to ya”
“Thank you. I hope you have a good trip too”
That was the last conversation I had until I deplaned in Frankfurt. I remember it like it was yesterday even though it was 1987.
It was 2000 miles (3218 km) from LA to Mississippi and another 1255 miles (2019 km) to New York, NY, plus 3880miles (6222km) approx. to Frankfurt Germany. For a grand total of 7,315 miles (11772.35 km). Distance is deceptive. I felt at home in Germany, where I was farthest away and I felt like a stranger in Mississippi, although I was much closer to home.
The Generosity Project 
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