My grandma was born in a very small town in Nebraska called Worms. That’s
gross, isn’t it? The nearest larger city is called Grand Island, which is
funny too, because it’s not an island. What my dad said is that they called
it that because it’s between two rivers. That doesn’t make any sense to me,
but whatever. In 1988, when papa was still 14, because he hadn’t had his
birthday yet, it was the summer again, and time for a family reunion. What’s
funny about this is that my grandma’s family always has a new reunion
whenever a new president is elected, or about to be voted in. But sometimes
you don’t know if there’s going to be a new president or not, right? So
sometimes they can plan for it, and sometimes they can’t. When President
Hagerman died, they had to have a sudden reunion, just so they wouldn’t stop
the tradition. It seems silly to me, but I’m not in charge of it. It started
many years ago when one of the presidents was born in Nebraska, so he spent
a lot of time there. Papa didn’t care about that. He was just excited to be
flying on an airplane for the first time. By now in the story, he had
already visited seven different states, but always by driving, so he had
never flown before. He was nervous, but he knew that they wouldn’t make him
do it if they thought it was going to crash. I’ve been on a few planes too,
and they never crashed. Have you ever flown before? It’s scary but fun.
We’re going to get a new president next year, because President Greason has
already been there for eight years, so I think we’ll fly to Nebraska.
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