Dad was always very busy. He was right up until he died. Early in my life, Dad was a traveling route salesman. Mostly, he would go out for the day, sell along a route and return later that evening. Later, he and my grandfather (along with my mother and grandmother) were building a business and it required long hours and many six-day work weeks. It would be easy at this point to say that Dad didn’t spend any time with us. But it wouldn’t be true.
Dad was really good at finding things to do that were not expensive, yet very memorable. Even with Dad’s busy schedule, he and Mother took time to take us on trips, vacations, Sunday afternoon drives and other outings that we fondly remember.
Sunday drives were often the most memorable. Some of the ones I remember include: driving on old country roads until we crossed a creek, then stopping and pulling off our shoes so we could catch crayfish or tadpoles; hiking through the woods along an old train track to a waterfall and taking pictures as we played in the water; and just driving around until we got hungry and getting to stop at an old country store to get a “setup,” which was really just a soda or a popsicle. He got banana-flavored popsicles if possible! And he always got all of us the same flavor. That way, there were fewer arguments about who got what!
We also took time almost every year for some sort of vacation. These included camping across Tennessee and Alabama; trips with our extended family to the Gulf at Pensacola, Gulf Shores, Dauphin Island, Panama City, and other places; driving through the Smoky Mountains and various other trips. Wherever we went, we discovered things. We were able to do and see things that I’m convinced others weren’t allowed to do. Because Dad knew how to do them. Sometimes, he would get us a pass to see behind the scenes of an amusement park, or, he would drive right past signs that said “No Trespassing!” which would drive us and my mother crazy.
But we would also do spur-of-the-moment things that we’ll never forget. Things like: stopping at a mountain spring on the side of the road and going swimming in it; passing a steam tractor and stopping to find out how it worked as the owner fired it up; stopping our boat in the middle of a mile-wide lake and just jumping in to swim (with God-only-knew-what swimming beneath us!); catching a ride on a tugboat pushing a barge and riding it from one dam to the next, making passage through the lock. These are just a few of the things we got to do because Dad wanted us to experience life.
I hope my children remember things we do with the same enthusiasm and excitement that I have. I guess my brothers and I fought and carried on while Mother and Dad tried to force us to see these wonders, I know my kids do, but that’s not what I remember. I remember Dad taking the time to show us the world.
