Chase sent me (his sister, Cass) a letter and asked me to post it on this site. Here it is:
My name is Chase Roger Telford; for these two years (2008 – 2010) it is Elder Telford. This is my blog.
I did the goodly, the setting aside of my toys, and got the last kiss from my girlfriend in, then stepped on a plane in Salt Lake City, Utah. I am going to start my story at the security check in at the airport. The place where I went through that line, looking back at my crying, smiling family. I got to the point where I could not see them anymore, and I started to cry. At this time I truely did not want to leave. I didn’t have a testimony and trying to kick a large swearing habit. I’m not your average missionary. So the first thing to do to calm my nerves was to go grab a large Coke. I found about 6 more missionaries going to Brazil and I busted out laughing at the wide-eyed look they gave my Coke. Like I had killed a child or something. One elder even had the audacity to tell me to get rid of the Coke like it was a beer. I offered him some and laughed at him. Not the best behavior for a new missionary I suppose, but I didn’t feel bad. I sat in silence with those missionaries for about 45 minutes until they called for our row to be seated on the plane. I sat next to a window and next to a window who slept the whole way. We landed in Dallas, Texas, after about two hours. I followed the other missionaries to the next flights’ gates where we found fifteen more missionaries. We said hello and I was thinking about the last American meal I wanted. I picked Fudruckers (because I used to eat there with my dad and grandpa). We waited about two more hours to board our flight to Brazil. Finally we boarded and had to wait for this guy to try and stuff a massive dead yak into the storage. I sat next to a guy who said 3 words the whole time; “I gotta pee,” since I was in the aisle seat. After about ten hours and some seriously nasty airline food we landed in Sao Paulo. Which is another story that I will continue next week.
