Cross Country Trip

View of Queen's Creek from my yard.  January 2011

With so much left to do for my father's 70th birthday party on Saturday, there's no time to contemplate a fresh blog post for today.  So I'm recycling an old one.  

This is a timely repost since it features the whole Chesapeake Bay Family on one of the rare occasions (such as this weekend) when we're all together--in this instance trapped in a Volkswagen Bus with no Matchbox cars such thing as the internet;  no communication devices other than a CB radio; not even an 8-track cartridge for music-- and most importantly, not a single grain of sense to be found in the group. 

This December 2008 post was the initial chapter in a series that attempted to capture the month of August 1977, a month which shall live in infamy in this family, and not just because Elvis died.

Enjoy!
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Once upon a time there was a family named Chesapeake Bay who lived in Mathews County and did not travel much. In August of 1977, they shoved one cooler, one porta-potty, three bickering children, no games and no other form of entertainment whatsoever into a Volkswagen bus pulling a Coleman pop-up camper. They headed to California. Driving. With three bickering children, two of whom were ornery sisters, trapped with their parents. No entertainment.

Chesapeake Bay Pre-Teen spent the majority of the trip sitting in the well in the back of the bus picking her toenails and plotting a scheme to torture her younger sisters--mostly Middle Sister because Baby Sister was too young and that would have been taking advantage of the situation. That would take all of the fun out of it.

As it turned out,Chesapeake Bay Pre-Teen didn’t have to do much plotting to be entertained by her Middle Sister during this trip. Fate took over that task quite nicely.

There were many interesting sites and several entertaining stories that happened prior to this one, but I'm going to start with the Nevada Bathroom Incident.

By the time this haggard crew arrived in Nevada, they were tired. They were bored. They were cranky. And they loved the rest stops because it gave them the chance to see something different, such as fresh air and plenty of distance between them and their irritating family members.

Here in Nevada, the Chesapeake Bay Family pulled over for a break, and the children raced to the restroom. (Sitting on a porta-potty in a VW bus with 4 other family members within touching distance while tractor trailer drivers honk at you as they peer down much to your horror? It gives a person a whole new appreciation for porcelain fixtures and doors with locks, even if 4,000 of your closest strangers have used the facilities before you.)

Anyway, this particular place was crowded, and everyone except Chesapeake Bay Middle Sister had completed the mission. Chesapeake Bay Family waited patiently for Middle Sister. There was a whole lot of commotion, lots of people milling around.

And then it happened. Chesapeake Bay Middle sister emerged from the restroom and there, hanging from her poncho, was a johnny mop. Middle Sister's poncho had caught onto the frizzy part of the toilet cleaning apparatus when she sat down, and it stuck like velcro to that poncho. And she did not know it. She was walking towards us in slow motion as angels sang in the background donning a johnny mop. Attached to her poncho.

OK. It's only in my version of this story that angels were singing and she was striding in slow motion dragging a johnny mop in front of hundreds of people in the state of Nevada. But this is my version, after all, and in all versions of the story she was dragging that johnny mop.

Chesapeake Bay Pre-Teen had enough entertainment to last at least until California, which I do believe was the state where the entire Chesapeake Bay family loaded up in the VW bus after yet another rest stop break and took off down the road.

Except the entire Chesapeake Bay family was not, in fact, in the bus.

Middle Sister had been left behind. 

Angels were singing in this instance as well, though they stopped when we turned around to go get her.

I'll share more details on that incident and others relating to this trip the very next time I'm too busy to prepare a new blog post, in other words very soon. Thanks for reading and have a great weekend.

Cross Country Trip Chapter VII

This old house is in a field down near Freeport. I took this on the last day of deer season, when every hunter this side of the Mississippi was out shooting. Speaking of wanting to shoot someone, we turn now to another chapter in the Chesapeake Bay Family's cross country "vacation."

In 1977 the Chesapeake Bay Family crammed a family of five, a cooler, a portapotty and no entertainment to speak of (portapotty notwithstanding) into a VW bus. They drove from Virginia to California and back pulling a pop-up camper even though they had never camped before, and even though they were crying tears of boredom by the time they reached the state of West Virginia on the very first day. (For previous chapters of this saga, check out the December archives or click on the links in the last paragraph below.)

Driving across country with your two younger sisters and your parents, with absolutely nothing to do except breathe, held the same charm as a bowl of bran flakes and was more boring than a tax form. Written in Spanish.

Even less thrilling was the stretch of road between West Virginia and Wyoming. That stretch of road as I recall contained this: Churchill Downs, some Daniel Boone Fort that made me angry because it was so boring, and pavement. Eternal stretches of a never-ending highway called Monotony, with occasional side trips down the road known as Tedium.

This so-called “vacation” was especially trying for Chesapeake Bay Father, who did most of the driving as well as all of the work putting up and taking down the camper every day. CB Father worked about 12 different jobs to make ends meet and spent precious little time at home. During the week, he worked at his car repair shop, came home for supper, went to bed for a few hours, rose at 11 p.m. and drove to Naval Weapon Station 30 miles away for the night shift. He set gill nets and sold the fish. And most Friday and Saturday nights you could find him playing drums in a local band.

Going from 24/7 Workaholic to 24/7 Entrapment with Dysfunctional Family was a change of pace and a bit of a culture shock. To say the least.

By the time we arrived in Yellowstone, the Chesapeake Bay Family was weary and bedraggled. Everyone was getting on everyone else’s nerves, even though the scenery was incredible. (It could be successfully argued that we got on each other’s nerves well before this vacation, but that is neither here nor there.)

At one point, Chesapeake Bay Father decided we should all go on a family hike. Did I mention that CB Father does not hike? I meant to.

I think he just wanted to get the heck out of that VW bus and gallop ahead far enough to sneak a cigarette, even though he didn’t smoke, or steal a shot of Jim Beam, which he undoubtedly needed after driving through sixteen states with three trifling kids. Or rather, two trifling younger sisters and one very responsible, mature, well-behaved, mild-mannered, courteous 13-year-old, who uncharacteristically was plotting how to leave her Middle Sister at a rest stop again. (Chesapeake Bay Mother had Valium, come to find out, courtesy of Dr. Kearney, so she was all set.)

We hiked up the steepest mountain this side of Kilimanjaro, complete with hairpin turns and hazardous overlooks. Baby and Middle Sisters were not at all enthused by the Family Hike, so after they whined to the point of wearing down everyone else’s last functioning nerve, we turned around to go back to the trail head.

CB Father, tired of all the weaving back and forth at the hairpin turns, decided to take a “shortcut” that was off the main trail. This so-called “shortcut” was a straight shot down a very, very steep embankment.

I now turn to an excerpt from a paper Chesapeake Bay Middle Sister wrote in school, which references what happens next in this story:

“…When I see the pictures that we took at Yellow Stone Park, in Wyoming, I imagine being there again. I remember when we went on a hike in the mountains there, and my father “fell down the mountain,” as my younger sister put it, when actually he was playing around and he tripped and rolled down the path a few feet. We laughed at that all day.” -CB Middle Sister

Actually, we laughed at that the entire month of the trip. And the whole next decade. And then some.

Yes, CB Father slid right down the mountain on his back and did in fact end up farther down the trail than the rest of us when he managed to stand up again after brushing the pine cones, sticks and dirt off. Oh, and the best part of all? He was in charge of Baby Sister, and my version of events says that he fell down the mountain and she came trotting behind him, and Chesapeake Bay Girl watched in horror as her father and her 7-year-old sister plummeted to their near-deaths.

Mind you, this wasn't so much horror at being concerned for their safety, although there was some of that. No, this was the sort of horror that washes over a teenager when The Embarrassing Family has done something so mortifying you wish you had a one-way ticket to another planet, because this one is simply way too small for you to coexist in.

In fact, it feels about the size of a VW bus.

Let’s summarize the highlights of the CB Family Cross Country “Vacation” thus far:

1. Middle Sister comes out of a rest stop bathroom dragging a johnny mop attached to her poncho.

2. Family leaves Middle Sister at another rest stop. Parents don’t even notice until Oldest Sister calls it to their attention. Oldest Sister wonders why she did that and kicks herself repeatedly.

3. Mother gets flashed when she peaks into a camper at the Grand Canyon parking lot, and the people inside have disrobed for the experience. What we had, then, was a Peeping Mom.

4. Father takes a hike to escape the insanity of the car and falls down the side of a mountain with Baby Sister trotting--then tumbling--close behind him.

5. CB Oldest Sister spends hours on end in the back of the VW bus replaying these events in her mind and wondering how on Earth she came to be born into this madness, and how much longer until this so-called “vacation” is over.
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Don't forget to submit your entry into the contest due next Wednesday. Click here for details.

Cross Country Chapter VI

This is a shot from Haven Beach, which is an untouched, unspoiled, rather deserted beach. Speaking of desertion, I now turn to another chapter in the saga of the Chesapeake Bay Family's Cross Country Camping Trip in 1977. (For previous chapters, see the December archives or click here for the very first chapter.)

Back in the first installment of this 1977 family adventure, I referenced a time when we inadvertently (?) left Middle Sister behind at a rest stop.

We were in some western state, exhausted after days on end of driving in a VW bus coast to coast with parents and sisters, and had stopped at a rest area. We stretched our legs, stared at all the other tourists, yawned, scratched and then returned to the bus to hit the road again. We were down the road a ways before the parents realized Middle Sister wasn't there and--with a sparse sense of urgency presumably due to 5,000,000 miles in a VW bus with kids in tow and no entertainment other than listening to bickering, conversations on a CB radio, and the results of a methodical plot in the next move of Sisterly Torture Tactics-- they then turned around to retrieve her.

At least one person in the VW bus was really enjoying the peace and quiet of Middle Sister being left behind....This was the same individual who served up D-con rat poison at a tea-party she hosted for her younger siblings, and who also fed her sisters under-cooked, aka rare, pork sausage patties.

Yes, this older sister was secretly reveling in the fact that the parents were driving away while Middle Sister was most notably absent from the VW. Older sister waited a bit to mention anything, because she could never have planned anything better, not that the D-con or undercooked pork offerings were planned or intentional. No.

Chesapeake Bay Mother goes on with her version of events:

"This incident occurred at a random pit stop in Lake Tahoe, where we were actually pulling off forgetting Middle Sister, who had serious business in the rest room. Everyone returned but her, and poor Husband assumed everyone was on board and left the parking lot.

Before we got too far, the two sisters on board realized our error*, and we wheeled around to face a stunned, disbelieving Middle Sister, who for once in her life was speechless. Husband assured her it was nothing personal, and that all is well that ends with everyone in the car."
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Back to CBW again...

* I would like to emphasize that "error" is CB Mother's choice of words, not mine.

Middle Sister maintains she was left in the Grand Canyon, but that simply was not the case. The only canyon in this story was the permanent emotional chasm created when a Middle Sister was left by her family in a rest stop in Lake Tahoe on the Chesapeake Bay Family Camping Adventure of 1977.

(p.s. Love you, Middle Sis, you know that. But--at the time-- it sure was fun thinking for just one second that the parents would drive off leaving you behind in that rest stop. Qwah.)

Cross Country - Chapter V

This tiny little building on the Mathews Court Green is our only public restroom (the door on the left is for women; the right for men). Because of our lack of facilities, most natives quickly learn the fine art of creating make-shift bathrooms, such as can be found behind a tree or a large bush or a car. Or an A&P or Western Auto. Or a tombstone at the cemetery. For example.

Speaking of restrooms, we now return to the Chesapeake Bay Family Cross Country Camping Trip of 1977, and specifically to what I call the Nevada Bathroom Incident where Middle Sister got a toilet-cleaning implement caught in her poncho and dragged it out the bathroom with her. For the original story, click here.
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Chesapeake Bay Mother says this about Middle Sister's unfortunate encounter with the johnny mop:

"Recounting the 'Nevada Bathroom Incident'--that happened in Florida a few years earlier when visiting Disney World. We were inside eating when the children all used the restroom. On returning, the infamous johnny mop trailed an oblivious Middle Sister."
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CBW here again. CB Mother? The johnny mop incident did not happen in Florida! That Florida trip, though rife with horrors and peculiar incidents, did not have anything to do with Middle Sister's unfortunate embarrassment.

To prove this, I offer the following evidence:

1. Middle Sister was wearing a PONCHO. During that Florida trip, we 3 children were stuffed like sausages into the back of a 2-door Ford Thunderbird LTD, while the parents' front seats were jammed back so far the children could put their chins on their headrests. There is no way she would have been wearing a poncho. It was HOT on that Florida Nightmare Trip (Virginia to Florida with no stopping for anything whatsoever unless someone was in so much pain they were crying or unless the driver/CB Daddy had to use the facilities) and I can assure you nobody was wearing a poncho. Various and sundry passengers may have wished a poncho to be wrapped ever-so-tightly around their neck, but nobody was actually wearing a poncho.

2. Out West, you may recall, it was FRIGID even though it was the middle of August (not July as you mentioned in another chapter). Middle Sister WOULD have been wearing a poncho in the mountains, because you packed her something warm to wear and obviously forgot about me because I recall being so cold I had to wrap myself up in a vinyl tablecloth in order to keep hypothermia at bay.

This past weekend, Middle Sister came to visit us from Georgia, and Baby Sis came in from Richmond. All five Chesapeake Bay Family Members who were on that trip were in attendance, and I broached the topic of exactly which trip--and which state--this whole johnny mop incident happened in.

Final Voting, Commentary and Reactions to the whole debate over "Which state did Middle Sister drag a johnny mop attached to her poncho from the Women's restroom out into the common area?" are as follows:

CB Mother - Swears it was in Florida on the Disney World trip. (It wasn't.)

CB Middle Sis - Went along with CB Mother, because she can hardly remember anything, and in fact thinks that we left her at the Grand Canyon when we did not...we did leave her, but not at the Grand Canyon, and we went back to get her before we left the state, for goodness sakes. More on that in a later chapter.

CB Baby Sis - Deer in the headlights. Has no idea what we were talking about.

CB Daddy - Laughed a lot and then said his famous, standard response when he doesn't know what else to say: Boom Bam Bippy! Do not ask me what that means or where it came from (although I do believe CB Mother made it up--it was part of an entire song she made up--and he borrowed it and never gave it back). Much like CB Middle Sister's "Qwah!" it can be used to express just about any emotion. In this case, I believe he was saying he does not recall the incident and has no input onto the topic. Boom Bam Bippy.

CB Woman - Maintains that this was the Nevada Bathroom Incident as part of the 1977 camping trip, not the Disney World/Florida trip where we stayed at a Holiday Inn with cockroaches the size of armadillos. Because I am the one writing this, that's where it's going to be documented as having happened. For all those other CB Family Members who wish to write their own version of events, I encourage them to do so.

Boom Bam Bippy!

Cross Country Trip - Chapter 4

This adorable birdhouse is outside of an old building down New Point near the fire house. It's approximately the size of the VW van the Chesapeake Bay Family took from Virginia to California on a cross-country camping adventure in 1977. In it were packed 2 adults, 3 sisters, no entertainment to speak of and one porta-potty.

The Chesapeake Bay Family left Mathews the summer of 1977 with absolutely no camping experience under their belt, yet pulling a Coleman pop-up camper which was to be their sleeping quarters for the duration of the month-long journey across the country.

The very first night they stopped in Charleston, West Virginia. The Chesapeake Bay Children were very excited to be spending their first night in the camper, and after much ado (meaning after the Chesapeake Bay Children scurried off to the swimming pool, the parents could finally focus on the task at hand) the campsite was ready.

We all sat around the campfire singing koombaya, holding hands, smiling and laughing. OK, so we weren't singing, we were bickering; and we weren't holding hands we were having a fist-fight. Nobody was smiling and there was not one hint of laughter the entire trip. I can dream, can't I?

Darkness fell upon the happy family, and it was time to go to bed. We climbed into the tiny matchbox of a camper and took our spots. Mine happened to be on top of the kitchen table, which converted to a very hard, extremely uncomfortable bed, while everyone else was able to stretch out and luxuriate in the vast expanse of a nice comfy mattress. But I wasn't resentful or anything. No, not me.

Silence. Darkness and silence. More silence. Lots of darkness. And then it happened. No more silence. But still plenty of darkness.

Chesapeake Bay Mother screamed--it was a sound of sheer terror. She tripped over herself and everyone else in the pitch-black dark to fling open the camper door and hurl herself outside.

What was the matter? Nobody could figure it out, and we were none too pleased at the disruption.

Evidently, The Matter was a spider crawling on her, and she somehow determined--even though none of us could see anything--that it wasn't just any spider, but a black widow spider. Yes, of all the possibilities, it most DEFINITELY was a poisonous black widow spider. Right there in the bosom of the Chesapeake Bay Family Vacation.

Well, at least on a bosom. Of one particular Paranoid Family Member.

Chesapeake Bay Mother would not go back into the camper. She insisted on sleeping in the back of the VW bus, and left her three exhausted, traumatized children and one eye-rolling husband in the camper to spend the night with all the other imagined poisonous creepy crawlies.

The spider was poisonous enough to scare her out of the camper and into the car to sleep, yet harmless enough for the rest of her family to sleep inside the infested camper.

In other words, this was one of the first examples of insects or arachnids or fiddler-crab-like entities igniting fear and panic in an otherwise level-headed, reasonably intelligent human being.

Thanks, Mumma.

Cross Country - Chapter 3

I took this at Haven Beach last week. There's a whole lot of nothingness looking at the bay from this beach. Sort of like the vast expanse of endless highway as a family of five travels across country in a VW bus.

Today I return to another chapter in the Adventures of the Chesapeake Bay Family: The Cross Country Trip of 1977, only this time we will hear from Chesapeake Bay Mother, who endured one month of travel from Virginia to California and back with three bored kids and no felonies committed.

If you've not read the previous two episodes, simply click on the links to the right. If you have read the previous two episodes and are still reading, I applaud your stamina.
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The Cross Country Adventure
By Chesapeake Bay Mother

In July* of 1977, our family began a pilgrimage from sea to shining sea in a bilious** yellow VW van, pulling a pop-up tent camper Husband bought for $500. Inside, we were equipped for any eventuality: a huge cooler, porta-potty, metric tools (for adjusting VW valves sensitive to changes in altitude and phases of the moon), cans of oil (for the engine, which craved it), and medicines, including antibiotics, cough medicine, earache oil, sulfur medication--for Husband's chronic colon problem, bandages, iodine, snakebite anti-venom and Valium.***Dr. Kearney, whom Husband took fishing, thought of everything. We would have been a welcome sight in any third-world country with or without a big red cross on the side.

For amusement, the children had flatulence, which they thought extremely funny, and licking one's adversary somewhere on her person as a vulgar form of tag. "Bickering" would be putting it politely.

For most of the trip, Baby Sis was, as usual, sick with a bug. We used antibiotics, but still there were times when you wondered if she might not be delirious.****No excuses for the other two, but conversations went something like:

Oldest Sister: Are we there yet? Are we halfway?
Middle Sis: Qwah. I said qwah.
Baby Sis: Mama, what is apple skin made of?
Middle Sis: Qwah.
Baby: Am I kin to Aunt Marian?
Middle: Qwah.
Oldest: Middle Sister licked me! Make her stop!!

After a few days,it is all background noise.

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Chesapeake Bay Woman's Clarifications:
* It was August, but whatever.
**I had to look "bilious" up. It is not a compliment (derived from the word "bile"). And it was NOT a yellow van, it was lime green. We never had a yellow van! But this is neither here nor there...
***Valium? This explains a whooooole lot. Yes indeed it does. Maybe the van SHE saw was yellow.
****Baby Sis was not delirious, but as you can see, Middle Sister was. Yes, she invented the word Qwah and she said it with mucho gusto and she said it often. She'd say it and then cackle as we stared in disbelief wondering how on Earth it was possible that she could on the one hand go to the Governor's School for the Gifted, and on the other be sitting in a car puttering across country yelling QWAH!

Chesapeake Bay Mother has also written something to clarify the Nevada Bathroom Incident I described in my first chapter, and I am very proud to announce to Middle Sister that the incident DID in fact occur in Nevada, Lake Tahoe to be exact.

Stay tuned, especially you, Middle Sis. QWAH!

Cross Country - Chapter 2

I took this down Haven Beach. All of the marsh grass and reeds you see here are ordinarily green, but now everything's turning brown or gray. The sand and the bay are way off in the background--you can barely see them. Speaking of things you can barely see--or perhaps cannot see--this reminds me of a story about my mother on our 1977 camping trip across the country.

As I mentioned yesterday, the entire Chesapeake Bay family was jam-packed into a VW bus pulling a camper across country from Virginia to California and back for our family "vacation." One of our stops was the Grand Canyon.

The Chesapeake Bay Griswolds pulled up into the parking lot of the Grand Canyon. OK, not "the" parking lot but "a" parking lot, and evidently it was a parking lot made specifically for motor homes and campers, because there were many of them nearby.

Chesapeake Bay Mother and Father had been eyeballing various RV's and motor homes all the way across the country. We were camping novices, and we were tired of putting up and taking down that pop-up camper with the canvas roof that had no heating such that when it was 30 degrees in the Rocky Mountains in the dead of August Chesapeake Bay Pre-Teen had to wrap herself in a VINYL TABLECLOTH to get warm enough to sleep. But that is part of a story from a future chapter in this series.

Anyway, Chesapeake Bay Parents were always pointing out various campers, and there happened to be a particularly nice one parked next to us in the Grand Canyon parking lot. Chesapeake Bay Mother decided she ought to get closer for a better look. After sizing up the outside, she cupped her hands over the sides of her eyes and pressed her face against the back window.

Now why did she do that?

The next thing we know Chesapeake Bay Mother jumps backwards and screams. She quickly runs away from the camper and tells us to get to steppin'--but fast.

It seems that although the camper was parked in the Grand Canyon parking lot, it was not vacant as CB Mother assumed. One male inhabitant was still inside and he not only had no clothes on, he was standing naked right near where Chesapeake Bay Mother peered in.

The moral of the story is this: The Grand Canyon is something everyone must see, but the inside of some stranger's camper is not. The other moral of the story is if you are going to prance around naked in your camper, don't do it when the Chesapeake Bay Family is around. We know no boundaries.

Cross Country Trip

I took this from a small patch of county land at the end of some road--I can't remember the name of it (surprise!), but it's near Haven Beach. I can honestly say I have never been down this particular road before yesterday and didn't know it existed. Speaking of traveling to unknown places, here's a story from a childhood vacation we took across country.

Once upon a time there was a family named Chesapeake Bay Family who lived in Mathews County and did not travel much. In 1977, they shoved one cooler, one porta-potty, three bickering children, no games and no other form of entertainment whatsoever into a Volkswagen bus pulling a Coleman pop-up camper. They headed to California. Driving. With three bickering children, two of whom were ornery sisters, trapped with their parents. No entertainment.

Chesapeake Bay Pre-Teen spent the majority of the trip sitting in the well in the back of the bus picking her toenails and plotting a scheme to torture her younger sisters--mostly Middle Sister because Baby Sister was too young and that would have been taking advantage of the situation. That would take all of the fun out of it.

As it turned out,Chesapeake Bay Pre-Teen didn’t have to do much plotting to be entertained by her Middle Sister during this trip. Fate took over that task quite nicely.

There were many interesting sites and several entertaining stories that happened prior to this one, but I'm going to start with the Nevada Bathroom Incident.

By the time this haggard crew arrived in Nevada, they were tired. They were bored. They were cranky. And they loved the rest stops because it gave them the chance to see something different, such as fresh air and plenty of distance between them and their irritating family members.

Here in Nevada, the Chesapeake Bay Family pulled over for a break, and the children raced to the restroom. (Sitting on a porta-potty in a VW bus with 4 other family members within touching distance while tractor trailer drivers honk at you as they peer down much to your horror? It gives a person a whole new appreciation for porcelain fixtures and doors with locks, even if 4,000 of your closest strangers have used the facilities before you.)

Anyway, this particular place was crowded, and everyone except Chesapeake Bay Middle Sister had completed the mission. Chesapeake Bay Family waited patiently for Middle Sister. There was a whole lot of commotion, lots of people milling around.

And then it happened. Chesapeake Bay Middle sister emerged from the restroom and there, hanging from her poncho, was a johnny mop. Middle Sister's poncho had caught onto the frizzy part of the toilet cleaning apparatus when she sat down, and it stuck like velcro to that poncho. And she did not know it. She was walking towards us in slow motion as angels sang in the background donning a johnny mop. Attached to her poncho.

OK. It's only in my version of this story that angels were singing and she was striding in slow motion dragging a johnny mop in front of hundreds of people in the state of Nevada. But this is my version, after all, and in all versions of the story she was dragging that johnny mop.

Chesapeake Bay Preteen had enough entertainment to last at least until California, which I do believe was the state where the entire Chesapeake Bay family loaded up in the VW bus after a rest stop and took off down the road.

Except the entire Chesapeake Bay family was not, in fact, in the bus.

Middle Sister had been left behind. Angels were singing in this instance as well, though they stopped when we turned around to go get her.