Tornado alley

The next traveling I remember was during the move to Washington, D.C. There was a day in Missouri when we pulled into our camping spot, set up camp and the other kids went down the hill to the lake there. I had my standard ear infection and couldn't go with them. The tent was up, dinner was being started, dad mixed drinks for himself and mom and turned on the radio. I don't remember all the details of the announcement, but the stress level in camp went up immediately. I understood later in life that the radio had stated there were tornadoes in our area. We ate dinner inside the tent ( unheard of! too messy)with the sides of the tent banging in the rising wind. I was young, and apparently being kept on a "need to know" level, but I could tell something wasn't normal. We packed up the entire camp after eating, shoved it haphazardly into the trailer, clambered into the station wagon and took off driving.
I fell asleep, normal for a kid in a car, and only remember waking once. Everyone but the dog Tricksey (my brother Bill's spelling of Trixie...) was gone! I looked across
the road from where we were parked and saw they were all in a cafe. Dad needed coffee to keep driving. I was indignant for a moment at being left out, and then fell asleep again.
When I woke up we were in Dodge City.
Dad slept quite awhile and to give him some rest, we went out sight seeing. It was styled on an Old West town, and I was really pretty bored by everything but the horses.
Somewhere along the line, we took a stage coach ride, and they did a mock hold-up. There is an embarrassing picture of me standing there white as a sheet from being scared by the incident. Today, they'd call that child abuse; back then they called it fun! Ha.
I swore to go back someday and kick that hold-up guy in the shins. It is probably a bit too late for that now, considering this was in 1964.
Speaking of that, my sister and cousin kept a spiral notebook journal on this trip(ah, teens)that I had for many years before my mom decided to send it to the cousin. Most of it was fairly typical of teenage girls, but I was always struck by the presence of ticket stubs to a Beatles concert. Granted, I was a little kid, but I do not remember
them going to any concerts while we were traveling. I will have to ask my sister about those details at her son's wedding in about a week.....

The Beatles were, of course, a majour influence of mine, along with a lot of other British Invasion music, but that all belongs in my music blog. Let's leave it at this here: they changed the world. They certainly changed mine.

Much of the travels at that time were a bit blurred. There were places where we made lots of friends and others where we spent most of the time together as a family around the camp fire. There was always hot cocoa in the morning, and marshmallows at night. We had a three room tent we called Ethel, and a canopy we called Sam (I have a very strange family...) We slept in Army issue feather filled bedrolls, on top of blow-up mattresses that I hated the smell of. (The mattresses were made of rubber and smelled exactly like the anesthesia mask used on me when they took my tonsils out. Makes me nauseous to this day.) There were two old Army trunks full of cooking things and foodstuffs, and an ice chest for perishables that I actually still have. Odd, isn't it, the things one remembers
from youth. The feel of certain things in my hands can take me back to those days in a flash.

I remember my cousin and sister, again in teenage mode, deciding when we were camped near a lake one time that they needed to wash their hair. They got into their suits, grabbed the shampoo and headed for the lake (an ecological disaster by today's standards!) About five or ten minutes later, the most high pitch, blood curdling screams came from the general direction they had gone. Turned out the water in this lake was probably around 60 degrees. I didn't know enough to laugh back then, but I still get amused by it today. Needless to say, no one else in the family decided to try going for a swim.
This was the trip we ended up camping in some friends' of my parents' backyard. We were in Rome, New York, at the home of Col. and Mrs. Waters. Between their brood and ours, the total number of people was around sixteen, and there was only one bathroom. Fun times indeed! The teens got to stay outside in the tent and I slept inside ( I am the baby by 7 years.) It wasn't the first time I had felt left out and was not to be the last, which no one understood of course. Unless you've been in that position, it is tough to comprehend. There is a picture hanging in my home that came from that trip. One of the Waters did a drawing of sixteen fuzz-ball creatures, one of which was running for a turn in the bathroom. I was the little pink one standing in the middle, looking a bit lost. I write about it now,'cos when I and my sibs are gone, few will understand that drawing.
A break now, to recollect my thoughts.