One week ago today, my MoTab crew and I were on planes, flying back home from a 20-day musical mission to western Europe, which was a fabulous, unforgettable, and very humbling and moving experience. And so so so much fun.
Here are 101 of my memories that I wanted to highlight:
1. Sharing the first leg of the journey to the Europalands with like a dozen brand new mission presidents and their wives, including two of the best people I know, President and Sister Bangerter!
2. The #AmDam30.
3. 8-hour layover in Amsterdam, with the lunchtime canal cruise (cheese and cucumber sandwiches?). #RightYouAreRon #RightYouAreNell
#AndItWasSoWindyItBlewHerWeddingVeilRightOff #ThatIsSoSilly!
4. The first time I ever heard the legendary synchronized clapping that Europeans occasionally do when they really like what they heard. That first time was in Berlin, at our first concert. None of us were fully expecting it would happen. But it did. And it sent shivers. Incredible.
5. Tasting non-alcoholic beer. It was a little bit gross…
6. …but it was at dinner in a cellar in a Munich biergarten that is 688 years old, so that’s really something!
7. Discovering and delightedly downing the delicious life-altering properties of spezi with Stan.
8. The turquoise on turquoise in the Meistersingerhalle in Nuremberg. Maybe we shoulda worn the turquoise dresses for that concert? Nah, that probs woulda been overkill.
9. Zip-lining in a gorgeous park that once was the grounds where the Nazi party held their rallies. Sobering.
10. Hysterical syllable-by-syllable impromptu take on “Betelehemu” with my girls on the top of the rope tower in the playground where that zip-line was.
11. One word: VIENNA!
12. The moving statue of a giant man hammering. I still think it’s a little creepy.
13. Bentley with the Bentley at Eltz Castle.
14. Sacrament meeting in the hotel ballroom with Elder Patrick Kearon of the Seventy and his lovely wife Jennifer.
15. “Apfel?” “It’s gooooood……”
16. Relentlessly asking Maria what the name is of practically every plant we walked past ever . . . and she loved it! Bahahah!
17. Deciding, while exploring the Palmengarten in Frankfurt, that a moderate-to-major bucket list item of mine now is to go to Japan, place my hand on top of a bamboo plant, keep my hand there all day, and see how many centimeters it grows in that one day. It could get crazy. Someone would have to bring me food.
18. Talking to an insanely colorful gorgeous parrot for literally five full minutes straight, and my friends are so understanding of my cute-bird quirk that they just let me be and judged me not. #TrueFriends :)
19. The Amsterdammers tying up their purple inflatable crocodilians so they don’t cause a ruckus…
20. Me wanta ALL your Fantas.
21. THE BEST PANCAKES IN ALL THE UNIVERSE.
22. Fireworks zooming out of the Eiffel Tower on Bastille Day.
23. Many much humans on the Parisian metro. Many many muy mucho of them.
24. Shooting a music video with everybody at the Paris France Temple construction site. #OnTheCountOfThree #LookUpAtTheDrone
25. Nightly regroupings with tour roommate Nancy, and joking and laughing uber-heartily literally every five seconds.
26. Patrick, the classic storybook Frenchman, who was our waiter on our last night on tour, in Paris. This was when I ordered duck for myself for the first time in my life. Patrick loved us so much, probably because he could tell we loved him so much!
27. Attempting to pack my large suitcase the night before it was due (it’s not called procrastination; it’s called “life got crazy”) . . . and – for months and months and months – not ever realizing until that crunch-time moment: “. . . . . . I don’t own a suitcase . . .”
28. AND THEN YOUR REAL-LIFE ROOMMATES SAVE YOUR LIFE IN THE NICK OF TIME BY OFFERING YOU THEIRS! Angels. Angels, I say. #TimeToBuyMyOwn
29. Mere moments before the very first leg of the journey – The airport security lady patting the top-knot atop my head, feeling for metal objects in the hairdo with her fingers. Ummm . . . hi? #SheFoundNothingDangerous
30. Sarah and I watching “The Intern” in perfect synchronization side-by-side on our individual screens, on the first long-haul plane ride to the European continent.
31. Performing on the same stage Bob Dylan performed on! (Plus zillions of other big favs of mine!)
32. Turkey impersonations (imturkeyations?) at the Berlin hotel breakfast table. The Rons know they loved it.
33. Shimmying lessons at the same breakfast table. Yeah…oh my.
34. Me n’ Maria showing off our astounding calf muscles after the hike up the hill from the castle!
35. Me n’ Becky negotiating whose future castle homes will be whose :)
36. Speaking of Becky: Becky workin’ the Munich luggage pull in her new cute green dirndl. I possibly never saw any other gal so adorbsible before in my life!
37. Eating gelato and sorbet basically every day.
38. The crowds’ squeals every single time (without fail) we completed “Betelehemu.” #AndItCameToPassThatAlisonGiggledRightThen… #Again…
39. All tour participants were divided into multiple travel groups. Several flights out, several flights back. I was in the group that was always the last to arrive to the continent. Our group got home to the SLC airport late, late at night. When I came down the escalator into the baggage claim area, I saw that Barry and President Jarrett were standing there, welcoming us home, making sure every last tour participant made it home to Utah safely. Yes, every last one of us hundreds and hundreds. They must have been so wiped out, but they were so devoted to all of us. They have so much love for us, which I already knew was true, but this instance really illustrated that love so incredibly well. I am in awe. I am so thankful for these leaders of ours.
40. The mystifying way the lighting always transformed from bright red to deep blue between “Battle of Jericho” and “Deep River.” Funny how that gave me goosebumps each time.
41. Clanging my F#6 and F#7 only twice (as in, two individual strokes – not for two individual entire songs) in the entire concert, but knowing I was important anyway!
42. The Brussels concert, when I was actually in the front row (the balcony part), and the railing/wall in front of my body was so short that I could’ve toppled forwards at any moment and crush Rick Elliott down below.
43. In contrast, the Vienna concert, when I was one of those several ladies who actually NEVER could see Mack or Ryan EVER, at ANY millisecond of the show, and so the exciting challenge (it really was actually kind of positively thrilling) was to sing the songs blindly, and rely heavily on what your mind and inner ingrained clockwork know about how the songs need to be sung. (A major majorly-thankful shoutout to Margo for conducting with her right hand behind her back for us who stood behind her!)
44. The way “Requiem Aeternam” sounded in that Musikverein.
45. The 26 missionaries who were at the Vienna concert, all of whom brought investigators with them. My cousins’ son being one of those missionaries.
46. Zipping now back over to the Berlin concert… The adorable hunched-over little old lady who, backstage after the concert let out, walked up to me, said not a word, but leaned toward me, grabbed my F#6, smirked, squinted, eyed the bell, said “Humph!” and walked away. And that was that!
47. Wandering in the direction towards home after the concert at the Berlin Philharmonie, in search of post-outlandishly- successful-concert ice cream, when we happened upon the sight of Andy Unsworth and crew across the street. When we saw him, we knew where he and his people were heading. We followed and, sure enough, ice cream was soon ours. A neat outdoor Indian place. Well, it seemed to be kinda half-and- half outdoor AND indoor. It was like the wall just . . . ended, and we were sitting at a table where the wall would have existed. I’m trying to hindsightedly figure out the restaurant configuration . . .
48. What is now definitely in the Top 3 Deliciousest Foods My Taste Buds Have Ever Known. #VeggieLasagna #YouKnowItHasToBeGoodCuzINeverTakePixOfMyFood
49. Riding a double-decker tour bus much of the time. At first I liked it, and then I loathed it . . . then I liked it again, then loathed it, and finally I grew to be okay with it, and we’ll leave it at that. #VerticallyChallengedCeiling
50. While on the upper level of the double-decker: successfully convincing Sarah to join me in my upcoming half marathon – for her FIRST half marathon! SO stoked for her!
51. Halfway point of the million-hour bus ride from Berlin to Munich: the rest stop where we trekked up a hundred stairs, crossed the freeway from up above, and formed a really, really long line of female choir humans for to await our turns for the toilettes. The men’s line had zero people in it (HOW???), and so a small few of us throwed our hands up in the air and said, “Ah who cares! There are 90 ladies in this line and 0 men in that line. Let’s just go use the men’s room!” The first couple of us made it into the WC without the worker lady catching it with her eye . . . but then I attempted to go in, and just in the nick of unfortunate timing, the worker lady shooed me away, and so I went back into the zillion-humans- long women’s line. HUMBUG. Oh well. Nobody’s bladder actually exploded, and we made it to Munich at a good hour.
52. The “green walking guys” at every single crosswalk/traffic light we saw throughout the whole trip! Berlin’s guys are the cutest, while Paris’s are the neato-est because they have chartreuse ones.
53. The single-file line of sweet tiny German schoolchildren Nancy and I saw when walking back towards home from the Brandenburg Gate. The cute German jibberjabbering melted me like dribbling icicle in the sun.
54. Visiting the Berlin Wall, and standing in East Germany and West Germany at the same time.
55. Accidentally loitering in the bike lane across the street from the Berlin Wall (it was basically my first day on the continent; give me a break, will ya?), and I turned around and noticed there was a young blond German man sitting on his bike . . . in my belly . . . literally. He hadn’t said anything, nor made any noise, nor tapped me on the arm, nuthin’. Just silence. He was waiting for me to turn around and realize I had a bicyclist in my belly. My lesson was officially learned, and from then on out, I treated the European bike lanes with much more enormous respect than ever before.
56. Tracy coming to the Brussels concert!!! And I hadn’t realized I had lost a chunk of finger in the process of rushing off the bus to greet him, until after I had greeted him, and I hope I didn’t get his shirt all bloody!
57. Coming in contact with actual Romani people – who many refer to as “gypsies.” They didn’t plunder, but they did try to sneakily swindle. I got two of them in under two minutes. Be careful when you’re out and about in the city – especially in the extra-touristy areas – and somebody comes up to you (usually without uttering a single word) and pushily puts a petition in front of your face with pen-in- hand. Just smile and shake your head and they’ll probably just go away. Very interesting experience. We were warned about this type of activity prior to us embarking on the trip. Ever-so- slightly exhilarating when it was actually happening to me.
58. Watching the Glockenspiel characters dance.
59. My life changed somehow, when I saw real van Gogh works for the first time. Got misty-eyed. Thought of one of my most favorite songs by Don McLean.
60. Singing a surprise “happy birthday” song to the other Nancy in the choir! Nancy H! In the yummy Mediterranean restaurant in the Munich hotel!
61. Biking in Amsterdam! Crazier and more challenging than you might think, but it was SO much fun! Also, a Dutchman shouted out his van window, “I LOVE YOU!” and me n' Sarah were like ehhhhh…
62. The morning after the Vienna concert. We had gotten home around 4:00am (#barf). I woke up at 10:00 to run downstairs and eat some food real quick, before going back to bed. In a zombie-like state, I was chatting with Lloyd Newell at one moment, then about 90 seconds later, he walked past me again, noted the chocolate cereal in the bowl in my hand, and said, “Mmmm. Cocoa Puffs.”
63. Speaking of Lloyd: how happy Lloyd got when I told him I loved his name because it starts and ends with double-L. It was kind of the best moment. Two minutes prior to lining up backstage for the Brussels concert.
64. Family photo with Rachel and our greeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaat-great-grandfather Charlemagne at the Notre Dame cathedral.
65. How every single WC was completely different in look and design from all others I saw. Each toilet and each sink was perfectly unique. I’m not super sure why I think that’s so cool…
66. Tour guide Sonja in her hometown of Frankfurt!
67. How happy Sonja was to be home, and especially to be with her parents and other family and friends.
68. I was also extremely happy, too, to see Sonja’s parents! I sure do like them. Lots.
69. Flat peaches! Yermy.
70. Walking the Neuswchanstein grounds with Ivalani, and running across Kay, the Hurdy-Gurdy Man, who was playing his hurdy-gurdy on a bench, wearing his brown leather. I can’t be quite sure I had ever tipped a street performer in my life, but this was the man who would break that streak. Ended up giving him 1.5 euro. The setting and the instrument were just so cool. Ivalani asked if I’d like a picture with him. I said yep (what a concept). He liked the picture idea. Then he asked me if I played any instruments. I told him, “Yes, I play saxophone and piano.” Then he said, “Ah! Piano! Would you like to play this instrument?” (His hurdy-gurdy.) And I started getting giddy wit it a little bit and I said that I would LOVE to. He had me sit on the bench, and he helped me tie the hurdy-gurdy around my waist, and I played a sorry version of “Cindy” and then a not-so- sorry rendition of “Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing.” At the sound of “Come Thou Fount,” Kay asked, “Is that a religious song?” I smiled and nodded, then he continued, “What’s it called?” Then I told him the name, and it was just a really nice few moments. The Spirit was there, and everything was 100% awesome at that time.
71. Neuschwanstein day was on Danny’s birthday. He cheerfully said, on our hike up the big hill, “It’s my castle birthday! You’re all invited to my castle birthday party!”
72. Playing Frisbee on the Meistersingerhalle (Nuremberg) as we waited for sound check start time to approach.
73. We were at a rest stop on the way to Paris, and the Woodburys and I (and most of our bus peeps) were standing in line for the WC. I was at a machine to submit my loo money. I put in the coins. Then a very Scott Woodburian voice chimed in my ear: "Alison, that's the men's room!" Then I probably did some frazzly spazzy move with my shoulders prior to composing myself and declaring, "Welp! Looks like I just paid for your admission!" Bahahaha. I hearted that moment so much!
74. Simply just making music in the same room that Brahms made legendary music in, and was the boss of.
75. Finding out, before the start of the Zurich concert, that 200 Church-members from Serbia drove nearly a full 24-hour journey just so they could come to our concert. Amazing. That set such a tender tone in my heart, and I was thankful for it. Numerous times during the tour (up even till now), I was thinking a lot about how miraculous the technology of flight actually is (airplanes, specifically). Airlines have been a thing for officially over 100 years. Over time we’ve become so used to travel-by- air. It is now commonplace and I think a lot of us have become desensitized to how remarkable the innovation is. Anyway, I was just thinking how special and fun and miraculous it is that we were able to make a journey that used to be many-months-long into a journey that was – in total – only about a day long, and meet up with 200 dear and determined Serbians who used the great technology of automobile to come enjoy a night with us.
76. Morning runs with some more of my gurls!
77. Singing a sweet fireside in a nice air-conditioned chapel in Offenbach, Germany. I love that feeling you get whenever you first-handedly witness how the Church is the same everywhere you go on the globe.
78. After said fireside was done – Walking down the aisle (whoa, not a wedding) and meeting the eyes of a darlingly freckled little redheaded German girl and exchanging smiles with her.
79. Kristin G wrapping up her fireside talk by sharing her testimony in German.
80. Sitting next to Clay Christiansen on the bus ride home from the fireside, discussing the goodnesses of Wurlitzers, Blaine Gale, songwriting, and favorite memories.
81. Day-after- concert hair.
82. Zurich concert. Hurried up and changed into concert dress. Hurried up and ran down to where we were supposed to line up backstage. Realized I FORGOT MY NECKLACE. (I had only done that one other time in my 3.5 years of MoTab life – my first General Conference in the “pepto dress.”) I was telling people I wasn’t fretting too badly about it, but secretly in my heart I actually kinda was… And then…suddenly…my favorite “exit buddy” in the history of all MoTab exit buddies – Luana – appeared almost literally out of nowhere, right next to me, with an extra necklace right there in her hands! The story goes that she had simply seen an extra necklace hanging around, as she was leaving the dressing room to come line up, and she just felt she should grab it! You know those nifty little magical moments where something happens and it makes you stop hard in your tracks and go like, I’m preeeetty sure a miracle just happened here… Yeah, this was that kind of moment. LUANA I LOVE YOU.
83. Finding and sharing finds of exquisite European Engrish signs, with Maria!
84. Having sung “God Be with You Till We Meet Again” so many gosh darn times in Deutsch and Dutch, that singing it in English for a concert towards the end of the tour was actually quite mentally stretching.
85. Finding the Dixi strain. I love to listen to that Dixie strain, oo-woo- ooooo.
86. Rachel being so kind and willing to style not only my hair into stylishness for concerts, but many ladies’ heads of hair! That’s charity right there!
87. Paddleboating with Maria on the swelteringest day of tour, in Frankfurt! It was an interesting undertaking to paddle while keeping our dresses modest…
88. TRYING ESCARGOT FOR THE FIRST TIME! Verdict: I lurve it. “Alison, your tongue is touching a snail!”
89. At the dinner between sound check and concert (Brussels): tossing table manners out the window for a minute to play ethereal and probably-slightly-obnoxious dissonant chords on water goblets with new friends I had just officially met!
90. Speaking of new friends, one reason I love MoTab tours so much is because they are absolutely perfect opportunities to meet and get to know a host of good folks you technically “see” all the time in your Temple Square world, but somehow never seem to get the chance to socialize with there (because the Utah rehearsals and concerts are “come, sing, leave” format).
91. The strangest Pinocchio book I have ever seen.
92. The sound of Hailey’s delightsome laugh behind me as soon as I rode my Amsterdam bike past her with my black-and-white polkadot dress flapping in the wind.
93. How thrown-for- a-loop Eric M was when he heard my bike horn noise for the first time. (Yes, I did ignore the provided bell apparatus to utilize my own innate gift of sound effect production when riding that beautiful blue bicycle.)
94. Speaking of beautiful: that beautiful, purely delightful family whose young seminary-aged sons grooved to tons of the songs, and were probably the most genuinely enthusiastic audience members we had there that night. The boys’ bright spirits brightened my spirit, and the mom had such a terrific smile and joyfully tear-filled eyes. I could never put a price on the heartwarming joy I felt when she hugged me.
95. Feeling utterly exhausted albeit oh-so- happy on the journey back home to the hotel after the fireworks show. Bajillions (yes, literally) of peeps on the crammed subway trains. Arrived at the hotel around 1:20am. Just had to wash my hair upon getting home (no, but really, I needed it), so I didn’t actually get into my bed until 1:45 or so, and I was still too excited to fall asleep, that I didn’t zonk out until 2:00. Had to wake up three hours later to start the crack-of-dawn workmorning. Got the official MoTab business accomplished. Crashed for about 20 minutes on my phreekishly comfy bed, still wearing my purple choir dress (I couldn’t move! #tuckeredbeyonddescription). Got up and went downstairs to meet with my pals and we pushed through the 120-minutes-of-sleep-the-night-before weariness and played hard the rest of the day. BOOM. Best day evah.
96. The plane ride back home to the Beehive State: from Paris to Atlanta – the darling and compassionate little old Muslim lady in the pretty forest-green dress who did not speak any English, who kept fretting that I wasn’t going to get any food (her special preordered meals always came a few minutes early), and kept on offering her leftover coffee and food that she couldn’t finish; from Atlanta to SLC – the out-of-control charming 6-almost-7-year-old boy who sat in the very back row, in the middle seat between me and Ryan B . . . who handed over to me his video game because he wanted me to have a turn with it and to have fun . . . he wanted me to play his demolition derby racing game . . . I thought I was crap at it, because I only got 3 rd place out of 5 . . . but surprisingly it was good enough to unlock FIVE new levels for the little boy to play later . . . when he saw that I have unlocked five new levels, he exclaimed, “You’re COOL!” and it was the BEST.
97. There was just something so special about seeing the elderly in our audiences, and their radiant countenances, spirits, and smiles. One of my favorite sights, in particular, was at the Belgium concert, where smack-dab front-center sat a little boy right next to who I imagine were his grandparents – perhaps even great-grandparents. Everybody in that family was beaming. I saw the little boy pretend conduct with his hands during at least one of the songs. What beautiful people.
98. I told probably only two or three friends on tour about this, but one of my good friends from my old singles ward passed away the day before we flew out to Europe. I found out mere minutes after waking up on Monday the 27th, when I was just about to hop out of bed to tie some loose ends prior to departure for the SLC airport. The news turned my heart blue, and I ache for my friend’s family. I decided to dedicate my every tour concert to him and his family. During many of the concerts, I consciously wondered if he could tell from where he was – someplace on the other side of the veil – that I was thinking about him. Like, were the beginnings of my thoughts of him possibly serving as a type of “phone call” to him? Whenever I started to think about him during a concert – when I was singing for him and his family – was it metaphorically as though he felt a phone vibrate in his pocket, and saw that it was my name coming up on the caller ID? I hope it worked out kind of like that. I wanted him to know I was there, giving my best to him, in loving memory of him.
99. I had similar questions while in Berlin, in my heart. When strolling the city and especially inside the Philharmonie, I was constantly asking: Do my ancestors know who I am? Do they know I am here, in the very area in which they lived? Do they know what I am doing here? I know they are very busy, with whatever it is they are doing. How far away are they from me right now? The equivalent of many miles? Right in the audience seats five feet behind me? Is one of them standing to my immediate left? There’s a space – an aisle – between me and Katie, and so is a soprano ancestress standing right there next to me, singing along? Am I incognito, or is this angel family of mine fully aware? When I felt a certain special fire burn inside me as I was singing the pioneer hymns at the conclusion of the presentation, I knew what my answer was. The feeling was too good for the answer to be in the negative.
100. In a way, it was little rough to not be able to attend a sacramental church service on Sunday, July 3rd. That was the big Vienna day. All of that day was dedicated to two very long bus rides, and a hefty time period in between the bus rides devoted to two things, and two things only: music-making, and digestive system sustenance intended solely to help healthily propel the music-making. No official church service was possible, but our bus on the way to Vienna had an Eric Huntsman on it, and he gave a totally wonderful spiritual thought that really helped bring the Spirit into our souls. Anyway, so the following Sunday, however, we did have sacrament meeting – in our hotel ballroom. It was really great. Greater than great. I had come to realize that my heart had been yearning so much to finally be able to receive the sacrament again (two weeks is too far in between!). There were heavy things weighing upon my mind, upon my spirit’s shoulders. I’ll never forget the amazing, sweet release I felt sweep over me, immediately upon partaking of the bread and water. To me, it really felt as though Jesus Himself walked right in, walked right over to my table, and said to me, “Here. I can carry that for you.” I’ll never forget that.
101. Pointillism. At the Musée d'Orsay in Paris, when I saw the Vincent van Gogh paintings, I also saw some pointillism paintings for the first time in real life. I had heard about these before. Each pointillism painting is made up solely of teeny, tiny individual dots of painted color. Look at the painting close up, and the dots are obvious. Look at the painting from farther back, and it’s just . . . wow! That’s how being in this choir is, for me. I’m just an itty bitty dot. If you’re looking close enough, you can tell I’m there. But anytime you do look that closely, I fear you are missing the point of what our choir/orchestra organization is. The point is that we are a splendid union – with each component of the union possessing an incredible gift – and we fuse our discipline and individual gifts together to create something that is, in all honesty, exquisite, in the very best sense. Our creation – the sound – it is huge. It is divine. It is definitely something that pretty much immediately calls down the powers of heavenly musicians to help us shine all the brighter. In a kinda sorta “big bang” way, it sparks up the existence of a truly majestic atmosphere that is so gall darn superbly thick that you could just slice a butter knife through it and swipe it right on top of your delectable baguette. When we combine our talents together, the Mormon Tabernacle Choir and Orchestra at Temple Square (and the Bells at Temple Square, whenever we get to have them with us) is an awe-inspiring pointillism painting. I, personally, am so grateful to Mack Wilberg, Ryan Murphy, our organists, and all of those who aid us with their skill and goodness behind the scenes. They play such important roles in helping this marvelous portion of the Lord’s work to roll along. I feel blessed to be part of that work. All my thanks go to friends and family here on earth who helped me get to this point in my life; to loved ones on the other side who may also have helped me get here without me knowing it; and most of all to my Heavenly Father – He’s pretty much the best. :)
