Great Vacation Trip Memories
Every year our family would go on vacation. These trips were always fun. My earliest memory was when I about 4 years old. Dad was one of the officers of the local UAW and was sent to represent the Local at the National Convention being held at Atlantic City, New Jersey. He decided to take me and mom that year. We caught a passenger train at the Greenville train depot at the corner of Lee and Wright streets. Riding a train for the first time is a tremendous experience for a young boy. While Dad was at the convention, mom and I would walk along Board Walk and play in the sand on the beach. Later we caught a “Jitney” (a local term for a shuttle bus) and went to see Eleanor Roosevelt and to hear the renown Marian Anderson sing the National Anthem at the convention. Marian was the first African American to be named a permanent member of the metropolitan opera, and was also the first African American to perform in the White House. Afterwards mom and I decided to go shopping. Mom was expecting my brother at this time. We were dressed in our Sunday’s best clothes. In those days both men and women wore hats. Mom had on a hat with a large round brim. Just when we were about to board a “jitney”, a gust of wind came up and blew off mom’s hat. The hat landed on the brim and proceeded to roll away at a fast pace. We left the “jitney” and started to chase after the hat. I was running as fast as I could, block after block, through downtown traffic, with my expectant mom in hot pursuit. I remember people staring at this funny sight. Mom was concerned that I might run out in front of a car and was hollering for me to stop. Just about the time I would catch the hat, the wind would gust, and the hat would spurt out of reach. Finally, I caught up to the hat. I remember mom and I laughing at this experience as we walk back to catch the next “Jitney”. After the convention, we caught the train and went to New York City and stayed at the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel. I have often wondered if this is where my mom learned to make Waldorf salad, a salad of diced raw apples, celery, and walnuts mixed with mayonnaise. We saw sights such as the Empire State Building and the Statue of Liberty. In the hotel lobby, on display was the current “state-of-the-art”. It was a Color TV. I remember going down to the lobby that evening to catch a color broadcast. The snowy color was not too impressive.
Most of our vacations were not as extravagant as the year we went to the convention. Some friends of my parents (the Reisors) had invited us to go camping at Platt National Park in Sulphur, Oklahoma. I remember my mom not being too keen on the idea of camping out, but after we got there we all had the best time. For the kids there were the spring fed streams to swim in, and for the parents just to able relax and cook outdoors.
For many years after this, we would go camping for two weeks at a time just after school let out for the summer break. We would cook on the grill or Coleman stove for every meal. It would be a time when all you would wear was a swimming suit and toe busters. Toe busters? Well toe busters are what everyone else knows as thongs or flip-flops. Every year mom would buy the whole family flip-flops to wear around the camp site and to wear to the swimming hole because the rocky soil was hard on bare feet. Most of the camp sites were lined with large boulders that are native to the region. During the night, dad would get up, put on his flip-flops, and head out to the comfort station, only to his dismay, he would stump is toe on one of the large boulders. Now picture my dad in the middle of the night, who was about 270 pounds at that time, hopping around on one foot, holding the his busted, bleeding toe with his hands. He would be angry saying “These stupid toe busters!” “All these things are good for is busting you toes!” Unfortunately for dad, this was not the only time this happened. So, over time, flip-flops became Toe Busters.
Dad was not the only one who had a bad experience with Chickasaw rocks. Outside the park you could rent bicycles. It came to my attention that they had bicycles built for two for rent. I had always heard of a bicycle built for two but, had never seen one. So, I started bugging dad to let me and my brother Kevin rent one. Finally dad gave in and let us rent the bike. Kevin and I had been riding around the park roads for a while when we reached a top of a hill. We coasted down the long hill and built up speed. By the time we reached the bottom of the hill we were flying when suddenly appeared a sharp turn to the left. The asphalt road had a layer of fine gravel in the turn. The bicycle built for two only had a front hand brake. I tried to slow us down by gingerly applying it, but suddenly, the front wheel locked-up, and the bike flip out from under us, and we were skidding along in the gravel. As I had mentioned earlier, we only wore swim suits while camping. I remember turning around trying to hold up Kevin’s face out of the gravel as we slid along. After we came to a rest, the bicycle was on top of me and Kevin was laying in the road screaming and crying all scraped-up. Well as luck would have it, dad was returning from town when he came upon us. Dad was angry at me for wrecking. Kevin and I was laying there road bleeding. The youngest sibling always feels that the oldest get preferential treatment. Well this should prove that is not true as dad put Kevin in the station wagon, to take him back to camp. Dad admonished me, and left me to drag the crippled wrecked bike back to camp. When I arrived back at camp, mom was doctoring up Kevin’s road rash. Now if you happen to be looking at some of our vacation pictures from that year, you will see Kevin and I all scraped up, and you will know how it happened.
Other years we went to other places with friends and relatives. One year we went with the Rogers family to Roaring River Missouri to trout fish. Another year we when to Rocky Mountain National Park, Yellowstone National Park, and Utah with Uncle Art and his family. Another year to New Mexico mountains to trout fish. I remember while camping at New Mexico my Uncle Art having a weak stomach. Camping in New Mexico was more primitive than we were used to, since they only had out houses at the campground. As soon as we arrived at the camp ground, Art decided to check out the out house facilities. He immediately came out gagging saying “Man I can’t go in that!” “It’s horrible in there!” Later in the week, I was hiking up the mountain side and came upon Art sitting on a log with his pants around his ankles. Foreseeing an embarrassing situation, I told him “Art there are some people coming up the hill behind me.” Art said, “ Well when you got to go, you’ve got to go - they will just have to see me cause I can’t take that out house!” We had a great time fishing for rainbow and cutthroat trout.
