We Were Family

                                               We Were Family




     Little sister's recent posting about family vacations reminded me of a few times we spent as a family away from home and, yes, it was a vacation of sorts depending on who you asked .
     Prior to living in Mt. Juliet Dad was the only one in the family working therefore he was the only one to take a vacation.  Dad's idea of a vacation was to go fishing and if the fish didn't bite then there was always a good reason to take a drink or two or three.  Once we moved to the country Dad had a friend make him a boat - the fishing was more interesting and fun.
     Vacations always start with plenty of preparation.  In the case of the Riggan vacation that meant that, come January, Mom started buying up extra bread, lunch meat, milk and any other perishables and tossing them in the freezer.  Once the freezer was full she was ready for camping on Old Hickory Lake for two weeks.
     When the big day came Dad loaded up the car and boat and made several trips to the end of the road at Cedar Creek - about three miles from home.  We set up our canvas tents and laid out our sleeping bags or blankets, iced up the coolers and assembled the grill.  For the next two weeks we became water babies deeply tanned to a dark brown.
      Dad always put out a trot line to catch catfish and limb lines to catch turtles and there was always a rod and reel laying on the bank with a line in the water.  To round off the day we fished for crappie.
     Dad's bootlegger friend, Grady Campbell, would come out and set up camp.  Along with him would be his wife, his daughter Sadie and her son whose name escapes me at the moment but it may have been Junior.
     Now Grady was Dad's bootlegger and he was also a commercial fisherman - which job was his main source of income was a matter of conjecture.  Grady would put out a snag line on which he would catch spoonbill catfish.  Spoonbills were not like regular catfish, they would come to the surface at night and feed on insects and whatever.  Grady's snag line would foul hook them. Spoonbills had no bones and were delicious.
     The first year we camped out Dad had a 12 ft john boat with a 12 hp motor that we fished and water skied from.  We also used it to make freezer runs back up the creek to the house.   It was only a couple of miles by water and it didn't matter that things would thaw out on the way back.  During one of these freezer runs Dad, brother Pat and I were in the boat.  Dad was driving when we reached the old bridge and had to slow to a crawl because the water was shallow and full of stumps.  Dad slowed down and then cut the motor off and we thought he had sheared a pin on the propeller but he whispered and told us to be quite as he sculled the boat towards a sleeping turtle.  All of a sudden Dad reached in the water and grabbed the turtle by the tail and pulled him in the boat.  Naturally he threw turtle in the front of the boat.
     For those of you not familiar with wooden john boats let me tell you that they are the most simplistic of boats in that they have a hull and two or three boards to sit on.  We had three if you counted the bow.  When Dad threw the turtle up front he did so that the turtle landed on it's back. There was brother Pat and I barefooted and trying to squat on our seats and there was this turtle trying to flop over onto it's belly and Dad yelling at us to not let it flip over.  Did I mention that this was a snapping turtle better than a foot in diameter?  This thing was huge.   It not only had a sharp beaked mouth that chewed thru a wooden boat paddle, it also had long claws.  By the time we got the things Mom needed back to the boat the turtle had flipped over and he wasn't about to be flipped again.  Pat and I road back to the camp holding the turtle at bay with a boat paddle.   Dad seemed to think it was funny watching Pat and I fend off an angry turtle.  Did you know fried turtle taste like fried chicken?
     Dad always had some of his buddies stop for a beer or two so there was always plenty of people around and of course southern hospitality said you had to offer them to stay and eat.  Mom always seemed to be cooking something and taking care of Ronnie and Vickie (they were not in school when we first started camping).  She always said she had fun but I think she was glad to be back home when it was over.
     The next year Dad had traded the john boat for a wooden ski boat with a 35 hp motor.   This was great as it was faster and could pull us up on one ski or pull up Pat and I at the same time.  When we weren't fishing we were skiing or swimming or swinging from the rope swing.   The sun was warm the water cool and the days were long.  Tom Sawyer had nothing on us.
     Now little brother Clint, who was six years my junior, was at the stage that he was no longer a little kid but he really was just a little kid and he had to try to keep up with his big brothers.  We tried to teach him to ski and he must have swallowed a big chunk of the lake.  We didn't drown him although it was not because we didn't try.
     Our family vacations continued on until we moved to Hermitage Hills in 1965 and I went off to the Navy.  They were good times and I look back with fond memories because for two weeks every year for four years we were a family and did things together.
     I am glad to hear Vickie had a family vacation that harbors good memories, everyone needs good times to remember.