Leaving For New Orleans

It was dark, and a crescent moon was rising ahead of the sun in the east. The sky was still black but a hint of morning was glowing on the horizon. A cloud passed in front of the moon.

Six buses -- there were six tour buses to take the kids, fifty kids each. Beside each, chaperone moms held up notebooks with their names and waited for their four assigned kids to arrive. Roadie dads loaded the luggage. The parking lot was filled with sleepy faces, excited voices, and anxious waiting.

Band and orchestra and choir directors paced back and forth from Bus-1 to Bus-6, checking the loading of the luggage, checking with the chaperones, checking with the drivers. And while all this checking went on, the kids boarded their buses as soon as each group of four had assembled, jostling for the best seats near the back.

The last missing musician arrived and dashed toward Bus-2, returning to give his embarrassed but happy mother a hug. A dad came driving into the lot and dashed to Bus-6, triumphantly holding up a belt and bow tie, obviously relieved he got there in time.

A pink sun rose thru the smokey haze blown in from Mexico. After the long wait, it was time to go. Slowly, in single-file, the six buses drove around the parking lot and then pulled onto the street and began the long drive east.

Tonite they are in New Orleans, and it's almost time for their room check.

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