On October 10, 2010 my dear friend Noel passed away. Noel was one of the smartest, funniest, most caring people I have ever known. His humor was unparalleled and he used it to make articulate, thoughtful, moving speeches to all sorts of crowds. From bars to congressional offices, Noel was always happy to deliver his thoughts to lucky members of the public at large. Often disregarding whether people were interested in hearing them -- he knew they'd be better for it.
In the end, Noel lost a well-fought battle with a horrible disease surrounded by people who loved him as I did -- truly and overwhelmingly. He unfortunately left shortly before his beautiful daughter, Emma, was born -- almost as if the world couldn't handle that much heart at one time.
Being that Noel was "our little pimp" in our first days in DC, Guido and I felt it only right to attend the memorial. And, being that the memorial was taking place in Chattanooga, Tennessee over Thanksgiving weekend, and being that we are not rich, our flight schedule was less than ideal. We were to leave Ithaca at 3 am on Saturday morning, drive to Rochester and board a plane at 6 am. That part all went according to plan (even with being at the bar until 2).
We arrived in Atlanta at 9 am, picked up the rental car and drove to Chattanooga (still according to plan). Checked into the choo-choo hotel and changed into appropriate memorial attire and made our way to the Baylor school where the memorial was being held. The service was emotional and moving and there was not a dry eye in the house. A reception followed and then another.
It was at that second reception that Guido and I started making poor lucy-like choices. Gin and tonic and gin and tonic followed which meant that when our friend Cubby asked if we wanted to after party at a bar, we immediately agreed. (who after-parties for a memorial I ask you? That's right, we do!)
We spent several hours at the bar and when it was time for everyone to move onto the next bar, we made our only semi-responsible move by conning the bartendress into selling us a bottle of wine to drink in the hotel room. We got back to the room and then, luckily, Guido spilled half of the bottle. We drank the remainder of course, while sobbing and hugging. We drunkenly set the alarm and then passed out in a pile of our own spittle.
When I awoke the next morning, I knew that it was too bright out for us to still be on schedule. I woke Guido up with a shriek and demanded that she start packing. We threw all of our things in our bags and ran to the car. It was not until the car was on that I realized that a.) I was still intoxicated and shouldn't be operating a motor vehicle, and b.) there was absolutely no way we would make it to Atlanta in time for our flight. I calmly called Delta and spoke to a lovely representative who rebooked us for a nominal fee on the 12:50 flight. Then I told Guido that we could go back to sleep for a little while because it would only take 2 hours to get to Atlanta and our flight was at least 3 hours from now. If you know anything about air travel, physics, traffic, or really anything, you know that this was the wrong move. We went back to sleep, got up a half an hour later and got breakfast sandwiches (see, it hadn't set in yet that I had made a mistake). We leisurely set out on our way and for probably the first hour, I felt calm and in control. Then I started to do math....and immediately began driving faster.
We arrived at the airport and returned the car with 20 minutes until our flight. Here's a tip for the less well traveled of you -- they don't let you check in for a flight at a major international airport twenty minutes before said flight is set to depart. I think the helpful desk agents took one look at us and knew that we were desperately in need of some compassion and a hell of a lot more sleep. They rebooked us -- Guido straight to DC rather than back to Rochester with me and sent us on our way.
In the end, both of our flights were delayed. Mine because the pilot was late (to which I say, my first two flights weren't delayed because I was late. Why does he get special treatment? Because he can fly a plane and I can't? Oh, ok, that makes sense.)
It was actually sort of the perfect way to say goodbye to Noel. Because it was then that I knew he will never really leave us. He was right there with us for the intoxication, the miscalculations, and the sweet sweet justice of us having to eventually wait around for planes. I will miss him forever but knowing that I'll always have him with me a little bit takes the sting out it.
RIP Noel Christian Smith (December 19, 1980-October 10, 2010)
