Hayter article for October 5, 2021
Vacation Moments
GRANDVIEW, WASHINGTON – When I was a youngster, a vacation was a two-week family stay in Bristow, Oklahoma, a town first settled in 1898 and named after U.S. Senator Joseph Bristow. I would tell you why it was named after Senator Bristow, but I would’ve lost too many of you. It was way boring, know whatta ya mean?
The hometown of Faris Hayter and Elsie Teegarden might’ve been as exciting as all get out when Mom and Dad were kids, but during my childhood, the place was a den of dull.
Among my best memories of our vacations was our visit to Aunt Vera and Uncle Laurence’s place in the Oklahoma Outback. It was actually a few acres just outside of Sapulpa. To me, the place looked like kangaroo country. I liked Vera and Laurence. Mom’s youngest sister was a real cut-up. Her sense of humor was dry, drier, driest. All of the Teegarden clan was dry-witted, but Vera’s quick wit was the best.
And get this – Aunt Vera and Uncle Laurence liked Elsie and Faris’ kids. In comparison to their son, Roger Dan, I think we were safe as zip-tied bread. I’ve mentioned my Uncle Laurence to you a time or two. He was a hero during WWII. Awarded two silver stars, he was, for some things he did in Anzio, a port city near Rome. Anzio was the location of an Allied attempt to defeat Hitler by attacking the “Soft Underbelly of Europe.” Unfortunately, there were too many German soldiers among the Italians. Germans could turn any “soft underbelly” into a gut of stone. It would take a second major attack at Normandy, some five months later, before Germany would witness the pressure from a two-front war.
Roger Dan, the son of the hero, was a wildcat. Each time we visited, he got Dennis and me involved in doing some wild and crazy stuff. During one visit, Roger Dan borrowed the neighbor’s plowhorse and took us riding all over three counties. (Seemed like.) Three boys, one swayback horse, no saddle, and no reins. I was the youngest so I got to sit on the horse’s rump. Each time I fell off, I took the two of them with me. The grown-ups knew nothing of our exploits, nor did they seem the least bit interested.
Yep, a visit with Roger Dan was the highlight of my Bristow vacations. I tell you that, to tell you this. -- For the past couple of weeks, Kay and I have been vacationing in Washington State, and at no time have we been allowed to get bored.
In fact, at this moment, I doubt I’ll be able to finish this article before we head to Spokane. Yesterday we drove west to the mountains. We saw rock strata that looked like a fence of towering pillars of stone. As we continued the drive upward, we saw rapids racing over huge rocks. At one point, we rounded a bend and saw fields of leaves and berries that were yellow, orange, red, purple, and green. Curt stopped at practically every pullout. With four cell phones at work, we ended up with enough photos to give each old person in the U.S. a couple dozen great shots.
And, we added to the collection when my nephew, Curt, made another of his “S” shaped turns up the ridge. Only, at this particular time, Mt. Ranier jumped right out in front of us. It was a huge ice-covered chunk of mountaintop! -- “Stop the truck!” -- All four of us jumped out as if we’re the first to discover the nation’s third most active volcano. (I researched that after the Bristow thing.)
We had such a great outing. The day before we went to the town of Prosser and watched the early morning launch of about 15 hot air balloons. There was little to no wind, and the air was cool. Those balloons slowly drifted right above us. You may have seen several such spectacles, but it was my first. My smile never broke. I am now persuaded that a flotilla of hot-air balloons can extinguish any frown. Yep, I was awe-struck.
Next week, we’re supposed to go to a lazer light show at the Grand Coolie Dam. It’s located west of Spokane, where practically all of Washington State is located. Kay and I will get to see “one of the largest structures ever constructed by mankind.” Enough concrete was used in building that dam to create a concrete highway from Seattle to Miami.
So much to see and do. It beats the daylights out of our Oklahoma vacations. Well, all but one. It was Autumn, and the ground and surrounding trees were covered in yellow and orange. A superbly dressed group of seven soldiers stood in a perfectly straight line, and as the fall wind beat against my face, they aimed their rifles in a high arch above Uncle Laurence’s casket and and fired three shots with brief pauses between each. It happened outside a small church building in Sapulpa, Oklahoma. Tears filled my eyes when one of the soldiers bowed to my Aunt Vera and placed in her lap a folded American flag. He then whispered to her something about “a grateful nation”.
I have been so blessed during this trip to witness and participate in some spiritually moving moments. Each of them should stay with me to the grave. Likely, no moments during my past nor in my short future will likely be more touching than that the one at my Uncle Laurence’s funeral. Life is a collection thousands upon thousands of “now” moments. Whether good or bad, each holds value for each of us. That’s nothing you didn’t already know, but it’s something I too often overlook. – Next time.
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Thanks Mark. I didn’t know this particular history.
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