There I was sitting at my computer blank screen trying to figure out what to write for Memories on Monday this week. I had several ideas but couldn’t quite get them out of my brain and onto the computer screen.  I resigned to save those for another day when the thoughts would come more clearly.  Maybe I just wouldn’t have a Memories on Monday post this week.  I closed my computer and walked away.

After I picked up the kids from school we were riding home and my son asked, “Mom, what’s on that car in front of us?” Looking ahead at the sport utility vehicle a few cars in front of us I said, “I think it’s a bike rack.” He said, “Oh I thought it was a swimming pool.” I immediately thought, “I say bike rack, he says swimming pool. Let me look again”. And then I saw it…the old rusted out Econoline high top roof van. “Oh!”, I said. “Are you talking about that red van up ahead?” “Yes! Doesn’t it look like a swimming pool up top?” he added. “It kind of does look like a swimming pool but it’s for extra head room so you can stand up inside the van.”  “Oh he said, a swimming pool wold be better.”

Then the memories came flooding back. We actually had one of those Econoline high top roof vans growing up and we went everywhere in that thing and I mean everywhere! That van traveled cross country with the whole family in it one summer. That was a trip for the record books. We were gone 4 weeks traveling in the Econoline van and I’m certain my memory of that trip is quite different from the rest of my family. My brothers and parents remember every stop in every state. Me? Not so much.

It was the summer after my 6th grade year. My brothers had just finished 7th and 9th grade and we set off on our cross country journey. Excitement bubbled as the wheels of the van started rolling on our epic trip. This was the longest trip we’d ever taken as a family and it was sure to be amazing. My parents had everything planned out with maps in hand. Oh yes, it was before the invention of hand held GPS. My Mom sat in the front seat navigating with the map opened while Dad eased on down the road.

We left early that July morning.  First stop the Gateway Arch in St Louis.  My Dad was determined to get us up in that arch.   It took us about 9 hours to get there, with very brief stops for food and using the facilities.  When we finally arrived in St. Louis Dad dropped us off at the Arch and drove off in the van searching for parking.  He was gone for longer than we thought he should be gone.  We started to worry (at least Mom and I did), then Dad came around the corner hustling to get to us as quickly as he could.  He went up to the ticket counter to buy us tickets and their response, “We’re sorry, we are all sold out for this evening.” Dad begged his case to the people at the counter, told them we were only here for one night, how we’d driven all day to get there but they stood firm on their answer, “No more tickets”.  Ugh!

Now I wish you had the chance to know my Dad.  He had a certain southern charm about him and definitely was not short on words.  He could talk his way into and out of situations with ease.  It was quite amazing to watch, a gift even.  He was not giving up on getting us onto the elevator to the top of the arch.  He found one of the elevator operators and I’m not really sure what he said to him but shortly after he spoke with him, we were being ushered onto the elevator to ride to the top and they let us on for FREE.  Amazing Dad!  The view at the top of the arch was spectacular.  It was a clear night and seemed as if you could see all the way across the country from there.  I wasn’t particularly fond of the swaying motion you could feel at the top of the arch or the creaking, shifting elevator ride to the top and back down.  I was however, so impressed with my Dad and his people persuasion skills because otherwise we would not have experienced the Gateway Arch that night.

I honestly cannot recount all our stops in chronological  order like the rest of my family.  I don’t know how they do that.  Maybe I was too young to make the same kind of memories they did.  Honestly, I’ve never been the best with geography.  Maybe that’s it.  Who knows.  What I do remember were the long stretches of time in the van listening to Dad’s music.  He would tell us, “We will listen to 30 minutes of your music, then 30 minutes of my music”.  We were onto him though.  There is no way I could have learned every lyric to way too many Kingston Trio songs if we were listening to equal parts our music and equal parts his music.  My middle brother and I can still sing those songs 30 years later.  I don’t even remember what music was considered “our music” back then.    Oh well.  I actually don’t mind knowing so many Kingston Trio songs now.  It’s just one way to bring out memories of my Dad.  One of my favorite Kingston Trio songs is “M.T.A.”.  Poor Charlie.

After many Kingston Trio songs and several other stops, we arrived at Mt. Rushmore.  I remember thinking how big their heads were and what a mess they would make if they sneezed.  Keep in mind I was just out of 6th grade.  I also remember thinking how people sculpting Mt. Rushmore were taking their lives into their own hands and how gross it must have been to carve out the nostrils on the monument.  I may have mentioned that to my parents and they just shook their heads, chuckled a little and proceeded to be in awe of this amazing sculpture on the side of the mountain.

Back in the van.  By this time my brothers and I had been in close proximity for quite long enough.  I had the back bench seat in the van while my brothers had the two captains chairs in the middle of the van.  I’m sure I was such an angel and would have never done anything to annoy my big brothers.  I was trying to take a nap on the bench seat and suddenly I found my head squeezed between the back of my brother’s reclined captain chair and the bench seat. “MOM!!  Their squishing my head!”  OK, OK.  I might have been annoying them just a little bit and this was their way of getting back at me.  I’m a little foggy on those details.

We meandered through the country stopping at various places big, like the grand canyon, and small.  We made it all the way to Vancouver, Canada where I saw my first quadruple rainbow.  I do wish I would have written down all the stops but I’m sure someone in my family has a record of it.  If not written down, I’m sure the whole trip is stored in their brains somewhere just waiting to be revisited.  Of course their version of the trip probably varies slightly from my version.  We’ve looked through the pictures at least once in the last few years and I absolutely loved showing the pictures to my kids and telling them about our adventures.  I would love to revisit this trip with my Mom and brothers sometime and maybe even make the same trip again with my kids.  Either way, it was a once (or maybe twice) in a lifetime trip.