Camping with Dad

After my mother married my stepfather, Ernest Diaz, en 1981, he was looking for a way for us to spend time together. I was camping with the Boy Scouts, so Dad decided that camping would be an effective way for us to get to know each other.

A friend of Dad’s owned property and a cabin in Greenville, MO. We did not stay in the cabin or in a tent for that matter. Dad liked to camp “under the stars” so we slept on a cot by the fire. He normally slept in his chair.

On our first trip down, someone had parked their car on the small gravel road that we used to get to the campsite by the pond. Dad drove around it in his 1981 Ford Thunderbird using a small incline by the road.

When we came off the hill, we were still driving at a slant on two wheels just like in one of my favorite shows, the Dukes of Hazzard. The car tilted back down, and we arrived at the site. I thought it was cool, but I do not think Mom was so crazy about our adventure.

The fishing was as good. We came home with 40 to 50 bluegill, which Grandpa Ellis grilled up weeks later with some more that he and Dad caught out of Lake Tishomingo. It was one of the few times that I enjoyed fishing.

The best part of camping was always the fire we built, which we would cook hot dogs and marshmallows. We would put a large log in the middle and once the center burned down, we would push the sides into the fire. It kept the fire burning all night. One year we got it so hot, it melted the cuffs on Dad’s pants.

After the first couple of years, Dad’s friend sold his place, but the camping trips helped us bond and are my favorite memories of Dad.

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