Last week, a few of my friends and I finished up the last National Speech and Debate tournament we would ever compete in. Words cannot explain the magnitude of this milestone, nevertheless, I will do my best to recount my trip and final thoughts on this event.
Wow.
Yes, I don’t know how to say it better. That tournament was a fitting event to cap off the best years of my life. I feel funny writing this because I have been almost looking forward to becoming a senior, moving out, etc… but it never occurred to me that I wouldn’t be competing in the NCFCA any more. Okay, maybe it did, but I never knew it would look like this. Now its here and I couldn’t have been more blessed to have it culminate in this way. Solo Deo Gloria!
There: June 7, Nathan Harris, Andrew Harris, Noah Harris, Nathan Exley, Luke Exley, Paul Exley and Mom Exley packed into our seven seat, thoroughly homeschooler, minivan. I didn’t realize it till about half way through the trip, but we, in a way, resembled The Grapes of Wrath chugging across the country with our rocket box on top and our trunk flooded with luggage to the rear window. We were snug and Nathan Harris mused that we were like a sardine can on wheels, it certainly felt like it. Except, I don’t think sardines have as much fun as we did.
We also stopped by the Great Smokey Mountain National Park
I can’t remember all the places we stayed, but the host houses were definitely my favorite. The first one that comes to mind was a large home school family in the woods of Virginia. They had a beautiful house and they made almost all of their own food. The milk and bacon we had for breakfast were from their own animals and the night before, they made ice cream. It was home-made vanilla. Using milk from their own cow. Need I say more? It was delicious.
These Hills - Trees = Shire?
In the morning, we left the Potter’s house and hiked a piece of the Appalachian trail. The meadows on the mountainside looked like places you would sing ‘The Sound of Music’ in. We bumped into a friendly lady who offered to take us on a tour of the trail and turned out to be a fun guide. If it weren’t for all the trees, the rolling hills would resemble The Shire from Lord of the Rings. At the top of the ridge, still cloaked in dense forest, we stopped and practiced a few speeches for our guide and a passing hiker. I found it amusing and random that someone should stumble upon a bunch of teens giving speeches in the middle of the Appalachian wilderness.We are, indeed, homeschoolers.
Treebeard, Hiking from Georgia to Maine
The hiker who dropped in to watch, had been on the trail since late March and had over 900 miles under his belt. He had a full beard, a distinct scent and a very pleasant personality. For hikers who hike the Appalachian trail for an extended period of time, it is customary to have a trail name. Our friendly hiker went by Treebeard. We returned to the Potter’s house after saying good bye to Treebeard, hiking back down the mountain and bidding our wonderful guide farewell.
Splitting logs at the Potters...
My highlight was when we helped the Potters clear some of their property. It was overcast and a storm was coming over the mountain. Regardless, Nathan and I split wood with an electric log splitter (I liked that toy a lot) and continued until it began to rain too hard. By that time, we were soaked to the skin and, after grabbing our things, we ran to the shelter of their barn to watch it pour. I love rain. This was the kind of rain that frequented their area often, but we soaked it up like Texas dirt.
On the Ferry to Ellis Island
I think the last host house we stayed at, before we reached nationals, was the Liu’s house. They were a speech and debate family who were going to Nationals as well. The best part was the music. They all played instruments and were into film projects. Thus, both Nathan’s were pretty tickled.
Our trip to the Statue of Liberty
On check in day we registered and joined Grace Einkauf, Alison Luis, Maddie Clay and Julia Rosenberger to tour Boston (please pardon the butchered names). We walked the decks of the USS Constitution, had some Clam Chowda and an all around fantastic time.
Off to the side was a man playing some Jaz instrument, he let us push its buttons. Cool Stuff.
We Blew BIG Bubbles in Boston... Say it fast ten times. 
Grace's 'Dr. Seuss Flowers.'
Boston Tour Crew
A Old Graveyard stuffed full of history. People were just dying to get in there... pun intended.
Poetry splurge
Nationals: Gordon College was clad in sweeping greens, aged pine trees and neatly crossed by well kept sidewalks. It bore a scholarly/educated feeling, which was enhanced by its almost royal lawns. The four day tournament was exhausting, but certainly an appropriate way to end four years of competitive speaking. We played the guitar, on sidewalk benches, and sat enraptured, listening to Grace sing with Master Owen Stroud accompanying on the piano. We had a communal poem writing splurge and I sat and mused under a particularly noble looking pine on the green. At some point on our trip up, Nathan Harris got sick and the poor guy spent Nationals in a fairly less pleasant state.
I had a lot of time to sit and think at this tournament. There was much to reflect about and Gordon had an atmosphere for thinking. I was going to miss all of my friends with a passion that wasn’t going to be satiated by the condolence that I could always come back and judge as an alumni. It just won’t be the same as competing. I guess one could describe my thoughts as sad, but at the same, they were splattered with joy at a past worth cherishing and a future bursting with potential.
The Grin Crew
Region four did pretty well. We didn’t dominate, like we did last year, but our own Beth Maisano did an incredible job and snagged sixth place in sweepstakes; winning second in several events. Grace Einkauf did masterfully in Thematic Interpretation and Nathan Harris made his mark in Illustrated Oratory. (to find specific rankings check out the NCFCA website.) I broke to quarter finals in apologetics and duo, and Paul broke in Thematic Interpretation, Duo, and a few others which I can’t recall. We had a Region IV ballot party complete with popcorn, pizza, singing lamas, tired debaters, very vocal speakers, some random college guy who came in and tried to start a dance party (he must not have known that we were homeschoolers 
), and… yeah. Fun stuff. These are the things that make the most colorful memories.
And Back Again: Saying ‘see ya later’ is much easier that saying ‘good bye’. When we parted ways after the National tournament, it was tough. We might see each other again, but not for a long time and with no guarantees. From a seniors perspective, this was letting go of friends that had been a huge part of life for at least four years.
Evidence of a past much cherished
Thus, the fellowship of the Speakers came to an end and we each went our separate ways.
The trip back was just as eventful as the trip up. First, we drove farther north, all the way to Maine, where we stayed with a relative of the Harris’. Maine is as post card perfect as they say, but if you live there during the winter, you see the other more prominent side of it. Apparently snow get boring. We ate out that night at a marina. Nathan had his first dose of Maine Clam Chowder, I had a Lobster Roll (delectable) and Andrew had a Crab Roll (also delectable). The food was excellent all around. Afterwards we walked over the kelp carpeted peninsula on which the Marina sat. We skipped rocks, found a monstrous crab (the size of my palm, and I have big hands) and picked up snail shells while marveling at the sun as it set behind sailboats and Pine covered islands. I have always wanted to see the physical scenery that painters find their inspiration in, but it was startling to finally see it in person. It gives one reason to stop and stare.
Next stop was the foothills of the Adirondacks in New York. This host house was also a homeschool family and was perched in the rolling green forests of the Adirondacks and the Catskills. This was like the places only found in lore. We followed a mountain stream to a mossy waterfall and beyond. I took my shoes off and walked in the water the whole way up and then a good part of the way back. The forest was quiet and the pine needles on the ground tenderly embraced my bare feet. You could hear the water, the birds, and when we came out onto meadows you could smell the wild Oregano. I had this recognition when I accidentally sat in the herb while putting on my shoes. Nathan, Mom and I were all walking together because the others had raced ahead and left us behind, which was kind of nice because it was quiet and undisturbed. The sun setting behind the trees sent shafts of light that crossed our path and flickered on our faces.
The kind of fertile mossy nooks in which one grows fairy tales
That evening, we sat around a fire with the Panzera family in their backyard. 
Their old red barn was our backdrop and the landscape around us looked like the frozen waves of a raging sea, overgrown with neatly cut lush green grass. We sang praise songs, ate Smores and looked up at the incredible tapestry of night sky. When we stepped away from the fire, the stars shone brighter and we had quite a display. Their view of the galaxy even rivaled the view I’ve seen in far West Texas.
We also Dropped by Niagra Falls. It was good weather for it, but I was sick and rather miserable.
Then there were the fireflies. These almost deserve their own post. The Fireflies in the foothills of the Adirondacks aren’t like the ones we have, or the ones in Pennsylvania. They flash like lighting, sporadically leaving you a trail of dots to connect in the dusk. If you can connect them fast enough, you might catch one. All together, with the rolling lawn sprawled out before us, the old barn silently keeping watch in the background, all of it lit by a dying fire and joyous lightning bugs, it caused me to marvel, giving me an excuse to stay up later than I like, just to wander the darkness.
About this time I got sick with what Nathan H. had, and we suffered together.
Next stop was my great Aunts house. Aunt Dorothy lived in Pennsylvania on a few acres that were thrillingly like the Panzera’s. She had a crystal clear pond splashing with fish (specifically a large bass that always lingered tantalizingly near the bank) and as soon as we finished unloading, her son pulled out some old fishing poles and tackle boxes, dusted them off, and handed them over. We had to rig the poles without the convenience of reels; tying them the old fashioned way with a fixed length of string. The evening faded as we fished, dug for worms, kissed catches and yelled at the more obstinate ones that took our bate and didn’t oblige. Andrew Harris caught the trophy bass we were all drooling over, but his string broke before he could get it in. I caught it early the next morning (ha ha!) and… It was delicious. I managed to get out Andrew’s lost lure and I named it Jonah.
The Fireflies there were lazy. Rather than a bright white strobe, they had a drowsy yellow throbbing light. I don’t blame them. The air there was heavy with the scent of flowers and something refreshing and clean that I couldn’t place.
The rest of the places we stayed in were hotels, but the car drives remain pressed into my memory. Driving through the rolling hills of New York into Ohio and on, we glimpsed the classic red barns and ancient cabins not yet retired. The hay bales sat on the ridges of hills, wrapped in white plastic, looking like giant marshmallows or teeth.
At Arkansas, we gave the waitress at Olive Garden a hard time, asking how to pronounce Arkansas (she took it well and returned the jest.) We also went crystal mining and Noah found his moneys worth. We did find other dazzling, but a little less spectacular than Noah’s, crystals and we came away satisfied as well.
Finally, we reached home, sucked in the Texas heat with an appreciation that would soon wither and spent the rest of our day resting. By that time Andrew, Luke, Nathan and I were all sick and were ready for a rest.
What I have told you is only what we saw. What we experienced is for another post. I came back content, at peace and I sit here now with excitement for the future. I may not see some of those treasured friends again, I regret that, but I have witnessed the rising of a generation. Not a Moses generation, but a Joshua generation. This is not the end, it is only the beginning.
~Your Brother in Training, Nathan E.
Credits: All photos were graciously provided by Pastor Hullum, Nathan Harris, Owen Stroud and Grace Einkauf. They were used with permission. Thank you Pastor Hullum, Grace, Owen and Nathan for allowing me to display your artwork. It has described what my words could not.
Nathan E.
Friends have said…