Campout With Brother

I remember my first and only overnight campout with my brother, Maurice. It was during the summer break after we had moved to our house on Heatherwood. It was probably 1953 or 54 and he had bought an old Chevy probably 1939 that he had got from some guy for about $100. He had walked to the place and paid cash for it and drove it home. Daddy did not know his plans and was not happy. It barely ran, when it would start. Anyway, he was taking his friend, Bob Wilson, and me on this camping trip to Spring Creek. That was way out Hardy Rd where it crossed the railroad tracks, then just down a dirt road where you could drive down to the creek. There was a clearing there where you could set up camp and swim in the creek.

On the way going there, we were probably just a few miles from the house when the car died in the middle of Hardy. There was not much traffic in that area back then, but we had to get the car out of the road. The car was old, ugly, and very heavy. Maurice told me to get behind the wheel and steer the car while he and Bob pushed from behind. I got the steering wheel turned OK, but there was no way my feet could reach the brakes or clutch to shift it in gear to stop it. That was the first time I drove a car into a ditch. Maurice was not happy, but Bob could not stop laughing. Someone stopped and pulled the car out of the ditch and if I remember right the car was out of gas. Not much worked on the old car. After putting gas in the car, we went on to spring creek without more issues.

That night, I was laying on a quilt that was not far from the fire they had made to cook on and to keep warm when we heard something I had never heard before. It was dark, the stars were shining and the fire lit up the area where we were but not far out. They decided it was a Bobcat we were hearing and my brother had taken his gun so we would be OK. His gun was a .22 single-shot rifle and I had never seen him shoot it before, but I trusted him. My eyes never closed that night and every time I heard that scream, I moved a little closer to the fire. We all survived that night and there were no problems going home the next day, but I have that memory of that time with my big brother.

My brother did not keep that car very long because he knew nothing about working on cars and Dad did not like it parked in front of the house. He traded it for a 1948 Mercury that was a little better, but that is another story for another time.