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13 Postscript Escape Routes Yes, the springtime needed you. Many a star was waiting for your eyes only. —“Bop: The North Star,” from Open Interval, by Lyrae Van Clief-Stefanon Underground Railroads I cross back and forth between Ithaca, Binghamton, or Elmira in different seasons. Along the way from Ithaca to Binghamton, there is a city called Caroline. I smile each time I pass there and wondered how it would have been to have such an address as Caroline, New York. Sometimes it is a riotous fall-colored landscape that dazzles the senses. Sometimes it is a somber gray in any given month, or a beautifully vibrant and green spring, or the whiteness of open fields of winter landscapes. I drove from New York City once after not having been here a long time, and it was spring and the water against the green made this a gorgeous landscape as one passes through the Delaware Water Gap. A certain majesty of rock faces against the water that seemed sculpted at another time presents a breathtaking landscape. The green on either side of the highway where there are no houses makes one think of the way the Native peoples who lived here would have erected their communities. A sense of nostalgia washed over me and remained as I drove into Ithaca and saw the familiar landmarks. After living in Miami with its even temperature and flattened landscape, I feel a sense that I had actually missed this part of the country and its seasons, that this was still familiar territory. I feel I can embody the meaning of Harriet, and I can leave and return again. escape routes · 221 The university etched against the hills, the cute little town in the center presents a pleasing contrast. The university president’s office is decorated in pure white, sparkling clean, as is his also crisp white laundered shirt. Affably , he recounts his experience of being Jewish descended to three faculty members, my two colleagues and I. He finally gets to his point that the day that Africana was announced as being merged into Arts and Sciences was one of the happiest days of his life. We counter that it was for us one of the saddest days of our lives. Our students were traumatized a few days before exams in December. We have entered the twilight zone! The provost sits stone-faced and Boer-like as he announced his decision as a done deal. Professors who had given more than thirty years to the institution remain shocked. One cried! Another looked depressed, as this was his retirement year. One grins! One makes faces! One doesn’t know what to do! Some are visibly angry! Twilight zone! I head to the Ithaca Airport at 5:00 a.m., making my way in the darkness to the airport to catch a 6:00 a.m. flight while snowflakes lightly begin to fall. But I know I am safe as it is just minutes away, and I arrive in time to make my flight, check in successfully, and make it easily this time through the TSA security screening. But for some reason, the flight never leaves at 6:00 a.m. It is delayed in earnest now, and the snow begins a much-steadier pace. The people around me are panicked as they walk around and check with the desk from time to time. An intercom announces a 7:00 a.m. departure and then an 8:00 a.m., and now the snow is really falling as a voice indicates that now they have to wait for clearance from the local weather center. The snow is really falling with more intensity now, and for a while we are all captured in a small airport, at the mercy of weather and recalcitrant personnel. That sensation of twilightness permeates as the whiteness outside begins to cover everything: small planes, airport paraphernalia, trucks, and the trees, and all is lost in a sea of whiteness. At 11:00 a.m., we are given vouchers for a sandwich and a drink in the tiny greasy deli; we are told that the flight is not leaving until much later that evening once the weather clears. I report to my hosts in Texas where I am scheduled to speak that evening that this does not look good. They agree to cancel my presentation. I realize that nothing will leave that airport today. At 2:00 p.m., I check for the...

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