Dorothy Brush "Random Thoughts" Published July 30, 2003

Summer brings back travel memories

Once summer was the only time we thought of or took vacations. When I was growing up, vacations were not even thought about. The unsettling effects of the Great Depression lingered and most people were more interested in a return to normalcy, not vacations.

My parents worked hard to make a success of their business, a milk route. Twice a day Daddy picked up large milk cans from the surrounding farms, brought the milk home to our basement where it was pasteurized, bottled and then delivered to customers in the nearby city. The two of them had only one helper for this labor intensive work. Their grit and determination paid off and eventually one of the big dairies in the city approached Daddy with an offer that allowed him to forget the long hours of preparation before the milk could be delivered. Now the dairy did it all and Daddy was freed up to add more and more customers.

Even years later when anyone mentioned a vacation, my parents had no interest and used the excuse that any extra money was used to improve their home and grounds. My sister and I did not feel deprived because we had no concept of a vacation.

When I married and our family grew to four close-in-age kids, we took vacations at nearby lakes in rental cottages. Those days were vacations for the kids but for mother, they didn't fit the dictionary definition. "A period of time devoted to pleasure, rest or relaxation, especially such a period when a working person is exempt from work." No, in a rented cottage the work became harder. Without the conveniences of home, feeding the family and keeping them clean was not easy.

My sister and her family on the other hand hit the road to exciting and far away places for their vacations. When our youngest child was in high school she was invited to spend a month with a good friend's family who had moved to Arizona. My sister suggested that my daughter and I accompany them on vacation and we would deliver daughter to Arizona.

That adventure went so well we decided to make it a yearly event. We lived many miles apart and sharing vacation time was a treat and allowed us to catch up on family and friends. After several years we persuaded our parents to join us. For the first time in their lives they traveled far beyond their lifelong community. They saw sights they had never dreamed of and were astounded with how big the United States is. For the rest of us, their expressions of wonderment brought new meaning to what we were seeing.

Through the car radio we lived through the momentous days of the Watergate hearings as we traveled long distances to get to our next destination. Another year we made it a point to be settled in our motel at Stone Mountain in time to view the historic moonwalk. Neil Armstrong's boyhood was spent in Wapakoneta, only 20 miles from our home. The morning we began our vacation the overpass at the town had been painted with the words, "Godspeed, Neil." Our Daddy was so thrilled with the successful landing he made it a point the next day to strike-up conversations with other visitors and throw in the fact that he lived a short distance from Wapak.

The memories of those trips with three generations have not diminished. We always had at least two grandchildren along and they learned to know their grandparents, and even their parents, on another level. Someone said, "You must arrange in advance for pleasant memories." Thanks to my sister, those trips were carefully planned and her efforts left us all with precious memories.

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Dorothy Copus Brush is a Fairfield Glade resident and Crossville Chronicle staffwriter whose column is published each Wednesday.