Introduction

Ever since Anne was about fifteen she had two ambitions. One was to work for the United Nations in New York. The other was to see the Grand Canyon. After that, it was implied, she would be ready to die. I scuppered the first idea by offering her something better as a lifetime's ambition, but the cost of that was a vague understanding that one day I would assist in the fulfilment of the second. Years came and went, and occasions like our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary passed, but the Grand Canyon remained unconquered.

Then, one day, with one of those strokes of imagination for which I had become noted over the years, I wrote to Patty Ward, now Rosner, who had left Prestwick in the late fifties and, to everyone's surprise including probably her own, had gone to marry a man in America. The surprise subsided a little when it was learned that the man was not a native American for Patty had for many years regarded such with an amused contempt. The years had mellowed us both a little and again, I suspect, to her surprise as much as mine, we found a common delight in the correspondence which sprang up between us.

Patty came to Scotland in the summer of 1992 for what was, at that time, her last look at that fair land and we had the privilege of entertaining, and being entertained by, her at our home in Bearsden. One thing led to another, so that she became the catalyst which finally stirred us into making the big trip. And so it was that in September 1993 we finally sallied forth to see the world and I left the comfort and safety of my own bed for the longest continuous period since we were married.

We had begun to think we would postpone the adventure until we were retired in about seven years, but the thought crossed our minds that by that time there would be no body left in the soul to permit such an exertion. This suspicion in due course was confirmed. The holiday was good, but by no means restful. Had we waited much longer it would have been in two litters that we would have seen the sights of the New World.

From the beginning we decided that this was something we were not going to forget. Anne took the photographs, some three hundred odd, and I kept the diary. It was written up mostly at the time and certainly no more than three days in arrears, so it was an immediate reaction to what we saw and heard. For that very reason it needed correcting and re-editing into the form in which it now appears. In doing this, I was anxious to add nothing to our immediate emotions as recorded at the time, but only enough explanatory background to make the narrative clear in years to come.

So here it is. Not America of the guide books, but some parts just as we saw and experienced them from day to day during that memorable month.

None of this would have been possible but for the help, encouragement and hospitality of Patty Rosner. To her we owe our grateful thanks. Our earlier, younger years had been spent in the mutual sufferance of two minds too alike, but it is good to record that all that has been replaced by a mutual love and regard. Although I still like to have the last word.

Alan Sinclair
Bearsden November 1993

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