Remember when...

Of summers past

Published On: June 22, 2009

With groceries to buy, bills to pay, reports to write and phone calls, emails and texts to answer, many people long for a better time. A gentler time when the world was slower and responsibilities fewer.

It's during these hectic days that memories of summers past help us navigate the rough waters of daily life. We asked a few friends to share those special places and times that help them float off into a nice daydream when times are tough. Enjoy.

Lee Anne Wills

My favorite family vacations have been with my sister Allison Wills Brooks and her children, Wills and Deery, on our trips to the beach near Destin. Days in the sun and fun dinners at night. I will never forget Deery's expression eating her first oyster on a cracker with too much horseradish at Buster's. She clearly loves fettuccine as much as I do. We all shared tuna dip on the beach playground at Back Porch waiting forever for a table. Wills danced at the Red Bar. I go back every year remembering that special opportunity to see them grow up.

Sylvia Rapoport

Three generations of Rapoports used to go to Rankin Ranch every summer; it was a working dude ranch outside Bakersfield, California. My family has fond memories because the ranch only allowed 30 guests at a time, so we felt it was all ours for that week. We rode horses twice a day, swam, played tennis and ate constantly. The children had a daily camp program with the wranglers. The photograph is of Max and Benjamin in the Winners Circle, having won the week's prize. May they always land in the Winners Circle!

The other photographs are from a trip to Israel in 1992, when we went for Benjamin's Bar Mitzvah in Jerusalem. We spent two weeks hiking, rafting and riding camels in the desert, in addition to traditional sightseeing. A fisherman in Tiberius noticed how much fun we were having together and taught us "osim chaim," Hebrew slang for "living it up." (The literal translation is more like "doing life.") We turned the expression into a code for fun. It seemed to express not only our feeling that we were having the time of our lives, but also Israel's way of bringing things to life. Of bringing the past, present and future together and making them come alive. The fisherman introduced us to the expression, but after that, we saw, heard and experienced the feeling, the attitude all over Israel. Watching the children absorb the idea of modern life in such an ancient country was powerful. The look on my father's face, holding Max so closely, speaks volumes.

Mac Hardcastle

If you're looking for an idyllic story of summers past, full of salty air and fresh-squeezed orange juice, call Garrison Keillor. This is not that story. This is a story of pecan logs, vinyl seats and parental neglect.

The fact is that I do have many great memories of spring break and summer vacations to Disney World and the beach. But when I'm asked about one that stands out, I'm always drawn to the story my parents have asked me to retire many times. Returning home from the beach, we would often stop at Taylor's Olde Country Kitchen for my older brother Jay and our dad to load up on the country's best pecan logs.

After one such visit, I walked out to the parking lot to see our family's (and the world's largest) station wagon speeding away without me. Surely this was inevitable given the strict feudal hierarchy of the station wagon. Mom and Dad sat up front with the AC blowing, Jay reclined on the full back seat with refreshing fruit juice, and younger brother Wilson and I were in the "back–back." I suppose there was no alternative to having two people who had a hard time getting along under the best of circumstances share a hot, cramped space for 10-15 hours. Needless to say we had fought for much of the trip, and so I was not surprised when I was abandoned at Taylor's Olde Country Kitchen. I reasoned that my parents felt obligated to keep one of us, and chose the more compact, emergency back-up child.

Watching them pull away, I made a half-hearted attempt to catch them but I suppose they couldn't hear me over Dad's maniacal laughter. After briefly considering what a foster home would be like, I went back into the store and sat at the small lunch counter. A few truckers sitting there had noticed the commotion outside and asked if I had been left behind. I told them I traveled alone.

One of them asked if my family had a CB radio so that he might call them to come back for me. This was in the very early days of the CB craze and so my Dad, being both an early adopter of technology and cheap, had installed only a CB receiver, so that we could hear truckers talking, but could not respond.

Meanwhile, back in the car, Wilson, about four years old at the time, was asking, "Where is Mac?" Mom and Dad thought this was a cute little game and I was hiding under the smallpox -infested blankets in the back-back. Or so they allege.

After about five minutes of this "game," Mom noticed that there was growing chatter on the CB about a kid being left at Taylor's Olde Country Kitchen. She turned up the volume just in time to hear "Mac Hardcastle was left by his family."

They returned for me several weeks later only to find that I had been fattened by pecan logs, developed a trucker/Elvis hairdo and asked for a key whenever I wanted to use the bathroom. To this day, I get misty eyed when I see large-eyed figurines, miniature outhouses or jingoistic needlepoint.

To be fair (I'd rather not), I'm sure I've embellished this story a little. And every time I do, my parents cry a little more. But I'm also sure that there is a rule about the one being left behind getting to write the history. Take that, Lake Wobegon.

Perian Strang

Fireflies, crickets and laughter are not only part of my childhood memories but also part of my adult ones as we make the journey to the Monteagle Sunday School Assembly (MSSA) every summer. And now I make it with my own children.

Memories that began with my own childhood include trips down the Ocoee and Hiawasee Rivers, hikes at Fiery Gizzard and sandwiches at Shenanigans in Sewanee. The trolls at "Rock City" that delighted me as a child now captivate my own children's attention and still bring a smile to my face.

Sounds of bikes crossing the Troll Bridge "klump, klump, klump" and children gathered at the snack shop for movie treats are not only my own memories, but are now my children's, too.

What makes Monteagle a special place for me and what makes it a perfect vacation for my family is not only the sounds of summer in the evening but the joy of having my own children play with the children of my childhood summer playmates. We are now scattered around the States but manage to come together once a year for the simple pleasures that we all still find at the Assembly.

Fireworks, parades and picnics on the July 4th—the smell of smoke in the air as the last cascading lights shimmer across a black sky. The fireworks silence the crickets for only a brief period of time as their songs are replaced by an echoing boom and the "oohs" and "ahhs" of generations who come together once again.

The day is started with a greeting to neighbors both known and unknown and a visit to a playground. A place where children have the freedom to talk to strangers as do adults, and ride their bikes until dusk settles in. The parents wait with a glass of wine (or two!) on the porch with friends both old and new, and laughter from every home makes all feel the welcome of this community.

The day ends as it begins—in simple harmony and peace as the sounds and feelings of summer at the MSSA envelope each of us once again.

Every year I look forward to making this journey and every year I am amazed and comforted by how little my own experiences change from year to year. There is such joy and history in this tradition for Sam, Holland and Pia.

My best summer memories are still my favorite ones every year.

Barbara Daane

Here is my story about our summer cottage in Elk Rapids, Michigan. From my bedroom window I see the sunrise turn the lake red and the moonlight send a beam across the water. Each morning I swim when the lake is like glass and I have it all to myself. Except for the occasional startled fisherman.

Sarah Reisner

In May of 1999, we traveled to Australia for our honeymoon. Chris DeFrance helped Rick plan a wonderful trip. While in Sydney, we climbed the Harbour Bridge overlooking the Opera House, celebrated at dinner with Perian and Sam Strang, and attended performances at the Opera House. We next toured vineyards along the Mornington Peninsula and enjoyed a delightful dinner in Sorrento with Chris' parents, the Goods. In Melbourne, we cheered our team to victory at an "Aussie Rules" football game and toured sights such as The Twelve Apostles along the Great Ocean Road.

The final leg of our trip was a stay at heavenly Hayman Island. While most couples take dance lessons before their wedding, Rick and I took scuba diving lessons from our friend and instructor, Terrence Fails. Scuba diving along the Great Barrier Reef was yet another highlight of our honeymoon, thanks to Terrence! The Stepping Stones and Heart Reef on the Great Barrier are certainly a "step up" from scuba diving at Percy Priest Lake where we were certified.

Rick and I recently celebrated our 10-year wedding anniversary. My five-year old son, Will, was watching an episode of Scooby-Doo where the characters' escapades take them to Sydney, Australia. Busy making dinner, I looked up and nonchalantly said, "Mommy and Daddy have climbed that bridge." In disbelief, Will replied, "You have not." For the rest of my life, I will never forget the look on my child's face when I showed him proof of our Harbour Bridge climb.

Ironic, isn't it, how a cartoon could transport me back to such a special memory in my life?

Jeanne and Jerry Southwood

The quest to hike to the top of Yosemite Falls in Yosemite National Park became a Southwood family aspiration during the years between 1986 and 1991. It took us three attempts to accomplish this goal, and that accomplishment was even more exhilarating and rewarding than we had anticipated.

Overwhelmed by the grandeur of Yosemite on our first spring break visit to this magnificent National Park, we decided that a hike to the top of Upper Yosemite Falls, a nine-mile, round-trip hike, with 2900 feet of elevation gain on the way up, would provide an amazing view and would be an accomplishment we'd always remember. Unfortunately, on this first try, we had to turn around well before the summit, having underestimated the time required—not an easy stroll in the park! A couple of years later, we returned on another spring break to Yosemite with determination to hike to the top of the Falls. Again we were stymied—this time by FEET of snowfall. After spending several hours wading through knee-deep snow, the thundering avalanches we could hear ahead of us convinced us that it would be wise to turn around.

Finally, in the spring of 1991, when our son Walter was a senior at MBA and our daughter Mary a freshman at Harpeth Hall, we made it! We were absolutely overjoyed—seeing that roaring water plummet over the rim of the falls was breathtaking, and the panoramic views of Half Dome and of all of Yosemite valley made every step of the way worth the day-long effort. We spent some wonderful family time up there, and we have celebrated these events, the time we made it, and the times we fell short, many times as a family. We each have a copy of this photo, and it is a constant reminder to all of us that failing to reach a goal one time is simply incentive to try again.

Andre Churchwell

I remember a trip we made about 10 years ago when I took the family to Jekyll Island, Georgia. We drove through South Georgia down through Doreatha's hometown and further southward. The kids were small and we went bike riding and enjoyed wading through the Atlantic Ocean for the first time!

Trey Lipman

A beautiful sunset and a full moon are two of my favorite vacation memories.

When I see a beautiful sunset, I think of my amazing adventure to St. Croix. I planned a six-month holiday which turned into a four-year experience.

Each evening, I shared the day's end with friends, sipping rum drinks and watching the sunset as a ritual. We sat on our veranda, waiting. Or we watched from the Monday and Friday Crab races. And, of course, watched on Sundays in Fredrickstead at my favorite beach bar, Off The Wall, on the North shore. We watched to see if the sky would be perfect enough for a Green Flash.

I met my island boyfriend on a full moon. Each full moon thereafter, we celebrated by camping on the beach, kayaking, visiting our favorite sugar mill, eating freshly caught lobsters, drinking champagne, dining with family and friends on the beach or going to Tortilla for a full moon party at the Bamba Shack.

Each full moon, each sunset and each soft breeze I remember are magical moments. Boy, am I blessed to have experienced this precious holiday.

Laurie Eskind

This picture was taken on probably the best vacation I've ever had. It was in celebration of my 40th birthday and I actually got hubby Steve to be away for two whole weeks—the longest time we have ever been away before or since. We started off in Athens, Greece and then traveled to a resort on the fabulous Greek island of Crete. And, for the last week, a Seabourne Cruise from Rome around the southern coast of Italy ending in Venice. There was no thinking involved except what to eat. Fantastico—I mean, how could that be bad!!! This picture is of Steve and me on a canal in Venice (duh!). I would go back in a minute. For that matter, I would go anywhere. Steve, are you listening?

Callie Kirkland

I love going to Maine and North Carolina with my family, but, since I am packing for camp now, I have to say that my best vacation memories come from camp.

I go to Camp Merrie Woode in North Carolina, but a lot of my friends in Nashville go to other camps. I love Merrie Woode because I make so many new friends from other cities, and I get to be myself. In the photo, I am wearing a turtle costume with a sign that reads, "I am a turtle. Get it right." All day, people kept coming up to me saying, "Oh, you're a frog." I wasn't. I was a turtle.

Patsy Bradley

Summer vacation since the '60's for me meant spending weekends on Cedar Creek at Old Hickory Lake cruising the lake on board my family's houseboat "STUDIO A." How special it was to have the Captain (my dad, the late Owen Bradley) and his First Mate (my mom, the late Katherine Bradley) round up friends and family to go out for sunset cruises. We would listen to Dad's favorite Big Band music with Frank Sinatra and Nat King Cole singing along. Once my dad even put a Dixieland Band on front of our boat and led a flotilla to the harbor as the boaters gathered 'round listening to the music. And we always enjoyed eating Katherine's famous "Bradley" tomato sandwiches. Nothing will ever be as memorable as those fun, summer days out on the lake!

Frannie Corzine

I am not really a beach person. In fact, if I could travel indefinitely, I would plan to take my family to see all sorts of things without regard to finding a single grain of sand. However, there is nothing as much fun taking a toddler to play in the ocean for the first time. By the time I was a new mother, it had been years since I got sandy at the beach. I had forgotten how much sense it makes to spend the day sitting in the surf or building a sand castle on hands and encrusted knees. Taking a toddler truly transported me to a new place on the beach.

Julie Boehm

One of my most memorable and meaningful vacations was when I went to Jackson Hole, Wyoming in August 1986 with Frank and his three children. It was memorable, not just for the obvious reasons—incredible sights and sounds, majestic skies and abundance of nature all around—but also because it was to be the beginning of a new chapter in my life as a mother and wife, the beginning of my life with my new family—a family that continues to bring me immense happiness and joy every day.