Houston to San Antonio

As the tour group stood gazing through the glass at the old, original Mission Control � now a national landmark � someone turned to the person next to her and asked, "So where were you when the Challenger blew up?" I distinctly remember Mrs. B's classroom, of looking up at the speaker from where the radio report came when our principal held the microphone to it. As I've said before, it was my first "Where were you when ...?" moment, for my generation. And here I was, standing in the middle of a complex named for the president who took over for the last one who was assassinated, a moment that represented the quintessential "Where were you when ...?" moment for our parents' generation.

There were really three aspects of my cross-country adventure five years ago:

1. Experience the country by car � that is, Just To Do It
2. Visit friends
3. See places I've always wanted to see � or, be a tourist.

Visiting NASA's Lyndon B. Johnson Space Center just south of Houston was the first touristy thing I did (to be followed by the Grand Canyon, Universal Studios, etc.). I was inspired to visit when I went to see Armageddon before leaving (I then saw it again in Houston with Meg, who chided me for not warning her to bring tissues for the Bruce Willis-says-goodbye-to-Liv-Tyler scene, but it didn't occur to me to weep over that). I got a thrill out of the process by which I came to visit NASA:

1. Saw it in a movie
2. Thought, "I wish I could go there"
3. Realized, "Hey! I can go there!"
4. Went there

So much of Houston and San Antonio involved touristy things, even though I was also visiting friends. In San Antone, unemployed Julie � who had lived there a month � and I explored the tourist traps of the Alamo and Ripley's Believe It or Not Museum. Nights with Meg and Julie and Jen were spent dining out, having a drink or two and talking. Austin was a different story, because it was different friends.

Meg, Jen and Julie (B) lived with another Julie (K) in the apartment next to Bryan and me senior year at Notre Dame. Bryan had known Jen since freshman year (when she roomed with Julie K. and Mia) and I became friends with the group sophomore year, which is when Julie B. transfered to Saint Mary's in South Bend. Meg was a year behind us at Saint Mary's. We were great pals throughout college, particularly junior and senior years, and spent a lot of time drinking together. Junior year, when Bryan spent the spring semester in London, I went to South Padre for spring break with Jen and Julie B. and five others.

Five years down the road, it's easy to see why my experiences in Houston and San Antonio were different from the nights I spent in Austin. My friends in the first two cities were a degree removed; that is, I met them through Bryan. He established a friendship with Jen, whom I then got to know. When Julie B. (a high school friend of Mia's) came to South Bend and joined the group, it was because of Mia. Meg was even further removed.

In Austin, I visited Brad and Heather, friends I had made on my own through the newspaper.

That made all the difference, and these stops in Texas actually told the future. I just wasn't wise enough to see it.