FAMILY MAN

IT WAS BACK FOR ME TO RETURN TO REALITY. ONCE I REACHED Seattle, the biggest concern was whether I still had my job. Rather than go directly to my workplace and face humiliation, I decided to call my senior colleague and mentor Paul to find out the situation.
I was not surprised when Paul said, "John, you need to call Ron Crockett. There are lots of bad things happening here". I immediately called Ron. He asked me to come in right away. From the way he spoke, I was more or less sure there could be bad news for me.
Imagine my relief when I realized the problem did not pertain to my extended leave. Ron had asked Bob Trimble to join him and together they explained the nature of the trouble the company was facing.
Despite all protestations and pretensions, the basic fact was that Air Repair was engaged in the manufacturing of various modules for

Boeing aircraft, without any legal clearance. The FAA had recently investigated the matter and issued a directive forcing Air Repair to surrender its license.
Ron was banned from engaging in the business for one year. To make matters worse, Ron's old partner Kelly was nowhere to be found even as the FAA investigation was veering towards a criminal case. Ron and Bob had concluded that they could continue man-ufacturing aircraft components provided I agreed to certify the products using my license. I was okay with it because this was the company that gave me my first job and also helped me get my visa. Deep in my heart, I knew this was the right thing to do as a sense of loyalty swept over me.
Over the next few months, the company operated with my certification. As Ron was mandated to keep away, the business was run under the leadership of Bob. It so happened that the business thrived during this period. We had moved to another location with more space and with business doing well, we started hiring more people.

Our component shop started to grow. One day Bob asked me how I would like to be the boss of the entire component division. It was a delicate situation for me as it was my mentor Paul who they were proposing to have me replace. I argued Paul's case but. Bob insisted that I had the technical knowledge and capability to move into a leadership position.
I finally accepted the new role. Undoubtedly it was a big setback for Paul. Even though he took care not to openly air his feelings. It was evident to all that he never accepted this change. Within a few months, he found a position with Saudi Arabian Airlines and moved to Jeddah with his family.
It felt as if life was pulling me into unchartered waters. I was quite thrilled as Kusumam was set to join me in Seattle in June.

Just as my professional life had changed, so was the case with my personal life. Her arrival was quite dramatic, her presence on the flight causing quite a turbulence.

Kusumam's maiden journey to the US had all the makings of a thriller. It panned out that her mother insisted that she should bring a Kerala-style curry knife to the US. Being the obedient daughter, she decided to keep it close to her in flight and kept it safe in her cabin bag. But the airport security took it out and once they got convinced it was no terror act, agreed to keep it in a safe lock till Bombay.
In a rare show of courtesy, they also sent a telex to the Bombay terminal that a knife had been sent by a passenger. True to form, at the Bombay airport, some officers interpreted the message as an alert, conveying that someone carrying a knife is coming on the plane.
All hell broke loose and they shut down the terminal. Conse-quently, many flights were delayed. Witnesses to the commotion at the Bombay airport were my cousins Ammini and Bobby who had gone there to meet her.
Unlike terror being in the air being quite common now, those days it was quite a rarity. Kusumam made it happen that day. Even today, I tease her about this incident.
Her misfortunes did not end there. The Bombay-Tokyo flight was unduly delayed, causing her to miss the connecting flight to Seattle. Thus, when she arrived in Tokyo, she was told that she needed to stay in a hotel as the earliest flight to the US was the next day's one.
Caught up in the rush of being shuttled to the hotel and being a first-time international traveler, it did not occur to Kusumam that she needed to apprise me of the delay by making a telephone call.
Unaware of the Tokyo stay situation, I got ready to go to the airport with my friend Abraham to receive her. Then for some

reason, I thought I should call the airline to make sure the flight was on time. I told the airport staff my wife was flying in from Tokyo by the Northwest Airline and I wanted to make sure the flight was on time.

He checked the inbound passenger manifest and told me that she had missed her connecting flight from Tokyo. He also told me my wife has not got a rescheduled flight but there was a possibility she could be on the next flight to Anchorage, Alaska via Seattle. He asked me to call back later.
But a few hours later when I called it was a different person who answered and she refused to give out any information citing safety risks for the passenger. She suggested I go to the airport and show my identification if they were to give me more information.

Sure, I went to the airport but they told me that they would be in a position to access the passenger manifest when the aircraft took off from Tokyo.
Frustrated, I returned home and called my cousin in Bombay in the hope that Kusumam may have called her. That is when she told me this bizarre story about the knife incident and the havoc caused at the Bombay airport. To cut the story short, she arrived in Seattle the next day. She was really tired and relieved that her journey was finally over.
She was completely exhausted, both physically and mentally, after her rather adventurous maiden journey from India. I will never forget how relieved she was to see me and Abraham at the airport.
What probably settled Kusumam's nerves more and made her feel at home was the Kerala-style meal prepared for us by Abraham's wife Grace. Over the next few days, I introduced Kusumam to all my friends, mostly from Kerala.
Those days the Malayali population was very small in Seattle. We all knew each other and found time for get-togethers quite

frequently. Still, it was a far cry from the life she had so far led in Kerala. Lawyer Abraham and C S Abraham were more into camping and fishing. Kusumam was not keen on outdoor camping. So we did not go camping but went out for day trips and picnics.
Slowly, Kusumam slid into the life led by Malayalees on the US west coast. Little did we know then that a big tragedy was about to strike us. Among the many relatives I had in the US was Nebu who was my junior in Kozhencherry College. Nebu had accompanied me to the Cochin airport when I first came to the US. Once he reached the US and started living in Wisconsin, we used to keep in touch by phone all the time. He told me that he was getting married that fall.

It was to be an arranged marriage as traditionally done back home but was to be conducted in Philadelphia. Nebu insisted that Kusumam and I should attend the wedding. We bought our tickets and decided to make it a week-long vacation trip. Nebu called that Saturday and talked to Kusumam, saying how excited he was to reach Philadelphia.
We were woken up early Sunday morning by the shrill ringing of the phone in the hallway. It was another of my relatives from back home, Dr Thampy Mammen. He was a known football player during his college days. He had taken his PhD after reaching the US and was teaching in a college in Green Bay. He was also Nebu's uncle and sponsor.

He said in a choked voice that he had some bad news to share. I waited with a sense of foreboding and braced for the news, fully alive to the fact that someone close to me had died. I could not believe my ears when he said in a broken voice that Nebu had died the previous night in a car accident.
Kusumam was in shock as he had spoken at length to her earlier that day. A rush of emotions swept through me. Nebu's father

and mine were cousins. He was the only son in the family and was expected to be the one who would be the torch-bearer for his family, especially his four sisters.
Nebu's father had worked in Malaysia for many years before returning to Kumbanad in the early 1960s. He started an oil mill in Kumbanad. I used to meet him quite often and discuss my plans about going to the US for my studies.
I could well imagine how devastating the untimely passing of Nebu would be for the family. They had high hopes for Nebu, especially with his marriage just a few days away. God had a dif-ferent plan.
It took us a few hours to shake off the pall of gloom that settled over us like a dark cloud. Soon, I headed out to Green Bay while some of my cousins joined us from Philadelphia. A decision was made to take Nebu's body back to Kumbanad.
There were a lot of preparations to be made with the undertaker such as embalming of the body. That, and the required permission from the Indian Consulate in Chicago to take the body home.

In a few days, Nebu's body was flown to Kerala for a grand funeral in Kumbanad. It was one of the largest funerals that any church in Kumbanad had ever witnessed. There was not a single pair of eyes that was dry that day.
He was so well-known and well-liked by the people that they grieved as if the life of one of their family members had been snuffed out. Even today we miss Nebu so much that it is like a wound that will never fully get healed.
That fall was one that we will never forget as we eventually moved beyond Nebu's tragic passing. We found out that Kusumam was pregnant and our firstborn was expected in June 1978.

There was a sense of elation among our little band of weekend friends. Soon we were into the winter months. Kusumam hadreason to complain about the cold weather in Seattle with dampness making it worse as it rained almost 8-9 months a year.
Given such a bleak outlook, I began actively considering job opportunities in warmer parts of the country such as Hawaii, Florida, Houston and so on. I must admit it might not have been a wholehearted effort as I was doing well at Air Repair.
I was unable to find a decent opening anywhere. As a result, Kusumam started getting adjusted to the damp Seattle winter. Just as the damp weather pattern with an almost year-long presence is a signature characteristic that is Seattle's so is its iconic NBA basketball team, the Seattle Superonics. It is very much a part of life for all Seattle residents.

When I was single and lived in Seattle I was not only a big fan but used to follow all their NBA matches with the kind of passion that announced to others that I had embraced the American way of life in the truest sense.
It was a few years back that the Sonics hired Bill Russell, a legendary player who retired from the NBA league to coach their team. That was a shrewd move by the team management as it attracted a bunch of good players playing for other teams.

Russell was later replaced by Lenny Wilkins who also played in the league a few years back. Now he was a full-time coach. He assembled a better bunch of players than Russell did. The crowning glory came when the Sonics reached the NBA finals in 1978.
I still remember the day, the NBA finals was on June 7 and we were playing Washington Bullets. In the last gut-wrenching minutes, as I watched Sonics lose the game on TV and depression set in, Kusumam told me in a tone that was a bit panicky that she was having labor pain. Soon, we started monitoring and realized the intervals between the ensuing bouts were getting shorter.

There was no time to lose. I immediately got her in the car and headed to Valley General Hospital. Once she was checked in I first met with nurses and then the doctors. They assured me that nothing was going to happen till morning. They asked me to go home and said they would call me in case of an emergency. So I reluctantly drove back home.

I would have been home not more than five minutes when the call from the hospital came, saying Kusumam had been taken to the labor room.
I rushed back to the hospital where I was asked to enter the labor room where the doctor was ready to begin the procedure. I had never been in a labor room before this. Frankly, I had rarely visited any hospital room.
They wanted me to stand next to Kusumam who was visibly in great pain and encourage her to push down. I am not sure whether I did that or if she felt any better because of my presence.

All I know is that I heard the cry of a baby pretty soon. My heart was pounding when a beaming nurse popped and told me, in case I had not noticed, that it was a boy. I felt overwhelmed as I tried to come to terms with the fact that we now were the parents of a child, our firstborn, Joby.
Yes, there I stood beaming, a very proud father. As they took the baby for cleaning, weighing and so on, I paced up and down in the waiting area. In a short while, Kusumam was moved to the room and they also brought the baby with a weight tag of 7 lbs. 12 oz.
The next few days were a blur as I divided my time between calling up my parents, siblings and cousins back home and sharing my excitement with friends who visited at the hospital.

Those days, baby car seats were quite unheard of. But we soon heard of it as the pediatrician Dr Gaunt insisted that he would
not allow us to take the baby home by car unless I bought a baby seat and showed it to him.
I had no option but to comply with his demand which at that time I thought was a bit excessive. In retrospect, I am glad I followed his advice. Dr Gaunt was a proponent of baby car seats many years before it was mandated by law.
In 1978 we became members of the United Methodist church in Kent, along with C.S. Abraham and family. It was predominantly a white church but we were welcomed with open arms.

We made so many friends over the years in this congregation. It is in this parish that I would later serve in the executive committee, pastor-parish relations committee, the finance committee and so on.
Our friend circle began to expand, as those we met for dinner were no longer only Malayalam. We had a group of four couples called Supper Eight. We met once a month for potluck dinner where we mostly discussed general concerns and supported each other.
We were still living in Kent East Hill in a small 1600 sq ft rambler house. The house had a large yard and it came with a septic system. I contently watched Joby go through his early years, as a toddler.

Then came the time when Kusumam said she wanted to learn to drive. But we needed someone as a babysitter for Joby as she signed up with the driving school. Silvia Grey from our Methodist church agreed to babysit the child. She had a son and also a daughter who was only slightly older than Joby. Her husband Glenn worked for Boeing.
The fact that the Grey family lived only two blocks from our house made it easy for Kusumam to drop the baby at their house. We were no longer a family that could not survive without the Kerala community's support. We had taken a giant step in embracing the American way of life.

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