When I was in elementary school, I was pulled out of class regularly for sessions with a speech therapist, for a lisp. I hated leaving my classroom for the private sessions in which I had to practice my “s” sound. The speech therapist was nice enough and I never caused a scene about my dislike for the whole process, but it was–by far–my least favorite part of school. I remember being frustrated that I couldn’t always make the right sounds for her sometimes. Youngsters don’t really have the capacity to understand that certain things are indeed under their control, that if they work hard and keep trying even as they…

Just joining me? Read Part One here, Part Two here, and Part Three here!Although I was again seized with anxiety about picking up and moving, especially after being in Texas for only two years, the move to Knoxville in general was very exciting for our family. My dad got a job as the General Manager of the Holiday Inn near the UT Campus as the entire city was preparing for the 1982 World’s Fair, whose grounds happened to be walking distance from the hotel. (We got Season’s Passes and were regulars at the Fair. I may have to blog about that sometime. It was amazing. In fact, the UK pavilion…

Just joining me? Read Part One here, and Part Two here! It was great news that my dad got the job managing his own hotel, but I didn’t like the idea of moving very much, especially to Texas. It seemed just so…far away! I hated the thought of starting over someplace else, having to make new friends, going to a new school, all of it. (I still, to this day, resist change. Ugh, I hate it. But once the change process is over? I’m totally fine.) My dad’s new hotel was the Holiday Inn in Hurst, Texas, just outside of Fort Worth. We moved there in the summer before I…

Just joining me? Read “The Hotel Diaries: Part One”, here. After working at the Ascot Hotel, my dad got a job at the Holiday Inn Mart Plaza, where he was the assistant manager. I really liked this hotel; I thought it was very cool that I had to ride an elevator just to get to the lobby, which was (and still is!) on the fifteenth floor. The lower floors were, I believe, offices and conference rooms, and there were shops at street level. Since my dad wasn’t the Big Cheese at this hotel, my sister and I weren’t yet at the point where we got “whatever we wanted” from the…

Growing up with a Dad who was in the hotel business was pretty awesome. My sister and I were the lucky recipients of certain perks that made our friends pretty envious. I thought I’d share a few hotel stories over the course of a few posts, if you don’t mind, starting with the earliest hotel. Dad was on the management team (I can’t remember for sure but I think he was first the Front Desk Manager and then the Assistant Manager) of the Ascot Hotel on South Michigan Avenue in Chicago, right across the street from Grant Park. The Ascot doesn’t exist under that name anymore, but the building is…