I am not sure how many years we spent going to Calhoun every summer for vacation. I know I was in school and had adapted to calendars and seasons. I could sense vacation approaching from mother's frantic cleaning of the house before we left town. Our house always looked great when we were not there. Mom didn't want people thinking we were slobs should we be victims of a horrible accident on a highway or back road. Mother always worked from the, "we are all going to die probably", perspective.
I remember the first trip to Calhoun after dad had AC installed in the 56. That was heaven. Traveling with the windows up and cool air. Of course it would freeze up from time to time and we would have to turn it off til it thawed out but it was my favorite car thing. Even the cow game was almost fun without hot air and stray bugs in your face.
Of course brother and I had the invisible line. We would take turns riding up front with mom and dad when one couldn't stand the proximity of the other. Brother had that trick that all older siblings used. He would sit on the hot dirty floor of the car and talk about how comfortable he was. He didn't even want to sit on the back seat the floor was so much more comfortable and roomier. Well, of course I had to sit on the floor too. Pretty soon I had to promise to stay there for being so selfish and hogging it. Brother would grudgingly take the back seat. I would be so victorious there on the hot and dirty floor. It would take me a few minutes to realize I had been taken. Then he would physically keep me off the back seat. Ah, traveling with siblings.
Mom and dad argued over when and where to stop for gas, for food. Dad was a get there in the shortest time possible man. Mom was a never run out of gas or have a bathroom emergency person. She also liked to stop and see the view. S&H Green Stamps dictated every gas stop but we could debate the lunch stops.
We had some favorite stops for eats and planned the drive schedule accordingly. We had a favorite lunch stop in Walnut Ridge, Arkansas. J.R.'s Salad Bowl. That's what I remember the name being. They had great sandwiches and burgers. Crisp fries and ice cream parfaits for dessert. OH MY. I dreamed of those parfaits.
They sold gifts too. The had square pitchers with two big dimples on the side and two pour spouts at the top. They were glass and came in brilliant colors. I think they cost around $7.00. Mom and I wanted the cobalt blue pitcher for many of these stops. Finally one day dad bought it. We thought we had purchased a piece of Tiffany glass. I still have the pitcher and I can taste those parfaits when I look at it.
One year dad announced we were going to see his family. I knew he had a mom and dad. I had heard tales of brothers and sisters. I had no clue what to expect. We headed through west Texas. That was unbelievably boring and smelled awful. "That is oil!", my dad would say. Big deal. We didn't even have cows to count. The singing with the radio ended pretty quickly. No stations to pick up. Yuck.
Then we hit the hills and finally mountains of Colorado. This was it. This is where I wanted to be forever. There was snow there. In June. Lots of it. Brother and I had our picture taken wearing shorts and tee shirts up to our knees in snow. Mother was white knuckled through the twists and turns up and down the mountains. I was in awe. I couldn't believe trees were that big and green. AND SNOW. That was too much to even wish for. I never wanted to drive out of that scenery.
We did though. Dad's family was in Utah. Either Ogden or Roy was where the grandparents lived. Some of the Murphy Children still lived in Corrine where the family farm had been. These relatives owned the bar that was my Grand dad's. Murph's Inn. Beer, Pool, greatest cheese burgers on earth and pictures of naked women everywhere. Utah was pretty, more canyons than mountains where my dad grew up. It was no Colorado.
I felt like a stranger there. I wasn't even sure I would recognize my Grandmother from the other women. I had only seen her once that I remembered. I didn't know my Grandfather. He looked big and mean. I had what seemed like a thousand Aunts and Uncles and first cousins ranging in age from 40 to toddler. I couldn't keep straight who was who and who belonged to who. I loved the atmosphere though. Very relaxed. I was not expected to dress up for callers. No one was going to come calling and if they did they brought food and wanted to hang out.
Mother kept reminding me that I had been there as a baby but that really meant nothing to me. These were all strangers except Grandmother whom I did recognize. She had so many grandchildren I was just part of the herd. She had great grand chhildren too. I am not sure she knew all our names. Nobody was related and removed so many times. We all came from the same fountain. Some of us even looked alike. WOW, this was so different. I had a plethora of people to play with. There were organized games and more food than I have ever seen. Much of it encased in jello.
I liked this vacation but I didn't feel special in anyway. I wasn't THE grand daughter. I was A grand daughter. No one really cared if you ran away and ran amok, who could watch that many kids. It was a very different grand child experience.
I had not given up on Disneyland. The trip to Utah just proved that we could go somewhere other than Kentucky. We weren't actually attached by some invisible cord that pulled us there every summer. We can go other places. Time to start the Disneyland campaign in earnest.
Our next vacation was in the winter. Christmas in Calhoun. My most vivid Christmas memory.
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