Traveling Man
Like any other blue-collar worker, my dad didn't get annual leave, so any vacations we took were few and far between. I can only think of three vacations -not including trips to see relatives- that our family ever took.
The Eyes of Texas
In 1966 we went on a big family vacation to Texas. Our first stop was Houston where we stayed with my Great Uncle Mac and his family. It was a different and interesting experience visiting them. Uncle Mac lived in a subdivision in a brick house with carpet and air conditioning, two things I'd never experienced before. They probably weren't any better off than us but I thought they were rich. One thing I recall quite vividly was something that could only be experienced in the 60s. Had they truly been rich, they would have had something that only rich people in the early 60s owned, a color TV. Alas, they had a black and white TV. However, in an effort to "upgrade" his plain old black and white TV, Uncle Mac had a color filter for his TV. This filter was a piece of heavy plastic that had horizontal bars of green, red, and blue. The filter was draped over the TV to add color to whatever you were watching. I tell you, I've never seen such vivid color.
Our first sight to see was the brand new Houston Astrodome. It was there that I first learned that honesty isn't always the best policy. I was lying on my mom's lap with my eyes closed when we drove up to the ticket booth. Like many things the cost for the guided tour of the Astrodome was based upon age, in this case admission for kids six and under was free. Thinking I was asleep, my mom said I was six. Being the bright boy I perked up and said, "No I'm not. I'm seven." Mom tried to press the issue by insisting that I was six. However, as someone who doesn't like to be wrong, I stated emphatically, "Remember Momma, I already had my birthday." The issue was settled; I was definitely seven and they we definitely paying.
Our next vacation stop was Six Flags Over Texas. I believe this was the first time anyone in our family had ever been to an amusement park and it was great. We visited all the areas of the park and, of course, bought all kinds of junk, like Mexican Jumping Beans, Confederate hats, and sombreros. I think I have the only remaining souvenir from that trip, some maracas that Jill bought. I don't remember all the rides we rode but I do remember riding the Log Flume and the Runaway Train rides at least twice.
All in all it was a great trip. Unfortunately, we wouldn't take another family vacation until 1973, and by then Chuck and I were the only kids in the house
Smoky Mountain Rain
The 1973 vacation was a quick excursion through the Smoky Mountains in dad's truck. In preparation for the trip, dad installed paneling and a dome light in the truck shell and bought two cots for the bed of the truck. The idea was that Chuck and I would sleep in a tent while mom and dad slept in the truck.
We left on a Friday afternoon after dad got home from work. Dad and Chuck drove all night to arrive at our first stop, Stone Mountain, Georgia. We arrived just before sunrise and found a location to set up camp that was near the lakefront. I was so excited to be there that I couldn't get to sleep. I was ready to see the sights but mom convinced me to let dad and Chuck sleep a couple of hours before we started our adventure. Exactly two hours later, I was waking everyone up.
We did everything that could be done at Stone Mountain. We went to the car museum and the historic village. We rode the train around the base of the mountain and the sky lift to the top of the mountain. By the end of the day, I think everyone was exhausted and ready for bed.
The next day we headed north toward Gatlinburg, Tennessee with stops along the way to see the sights. One of our stops was Cherokee, North Carolina. At the time I was into my Indian heritage big time, so I was really looking forward to buying something made by real live Indians. There I was browsing through one of the stores when I saw some beaded headbands with all kinds of designs on them. "Man," I thought "This is perfect, an authentic Indian headband." I picked up this nice-looking headband that had turquoise beads with designs in black, white, and red, and as I ran it through my fingers looking at each design I felt a label on the back. I can still remember turning it over and seeing the tiny gold oval label with the black lettering on it, "Made in China." Here it is over 100 years later and some white guy was still screwing the Indians.
We camped out somewhere outside of town that night and the next day we stopped by Clingman's Dome, the highest point in the national park, and hiked the half mile path to the top. It was a long hike for mom but being a real trooper she managed to make it to the top.
I'm sure that mom and especially dad were expecting the trip through the Smokies to be one of beautiful mountain vistas with picturesque little towns along the way, but did they ever get a rude awakening when they drove into Gatlinburg. Instead of the quiet small town they might have expected, they drove right into the middle of a tourist trap. The main drag was jammed with shops selling Smoky Mountains this and Tennessee that and places like the Ripley's Believe It or Not Museum and Hillbilly Golf. It was the perfect place to blow a wad of money, and Chuck and I were only too happy to do that. We didn't hit every tourist trap in town but we went to quite a few.
The next day we started our long trek home. With the exception of an overnight stop by Barbara Ann and Fred Perry's house, the drive home was pretty boring compared to the preceding days. All in all, it was a fun trip.
Wish You Were Here
The last of our "family" vacations was just mom, dad, and me spending a few days in Florida the week after my graduation. We drove mom's new car to Orlando and spent a couple of days visiting Disney World. It was my second trip there in less than a month. We walked all over the Magic Kingdom and rode many of the rides. My mom surprised me by riding the Space Mountain roller coaster. I think we spent two days there and then drove to Daytona Beach. For me, the day in Daytona was the most interesting part of the trip.
We rented a hotel room that faced the beach; it was my first time to see an ocean. Of course, I headed straight for the water after unpacking.
As I was splashing around in the waves, a very pretty black girl struck up a conversation with me. We swam and played together for a couple of hours. The longer we were together the better I liked her. When she told me she was from Columbia, Mississippi, I started thinking, "this might be good." I was optimistically hoping we might be able to go out on a date, but my ship of dreams was smashed against the rocks of reality when she told me her parents were driving to Jacksonville that night.
But that wasn't the interesting part. Nope. When we came out of the water my dad was standing there. He'd been watching us together I said goodbye to the beauty and walked with my dad to the hotel. As we walked, he asked me if I needed the car tonight. When I asked why, he said, "I thought you might have a date with that girl." Now that, that was the most interesting part of the trip.
The next day we drove up the coast to St. Augustine and toured the old Spanish Fort. After that, we headed for home. As I drove down I-10, a brown Cadillac drove past and in the back seat was my swimming partner from the previous day. We waved at each other as her father sped away.
When we arrived home, mom received a big surprise from my brother. We opened the back door and there, in a million pieces, was his Harley Davidson. He had decided to rebuild his bike from the ground up and decided the kitchen would be the best place to do it. I mean, there was all that empty space and no one was home. To his credit, Chuck did put newspaper down to protect the floor, but that didn't make mom any happier; she was steamed.
At the time it wasn't very funny but 30 plus years down the road, it's actually pretty funny.