Summer vacation

 I can close my eyes and feel the wind on my face as I lean out the window of our 1957 Ford station wagon. It was summertime, and we were headed to a motel with a pool. Dad had two weeks of Army Reserve training near the motel, which he left us at for the first week. Then he joined us to embark on one adventure or another. He loved surprising us and never revealed his plans until we arrived at our destination.

Money was tight for a family of five, but Dad always managed to find a motel that was clean enough for Mom; having a kitchen and a pool was a must. My sisters and I spent all day in the pool, only coming out for lunch or if there was a thunderstorm, which scared Mom like nothing else. At the first rumble of thunder, she would make us come inside and amuse ourselves until she was sure the threat had passed, and only then were we allowed back in the pool.

One day, while we were indoors, a loud cracking sound and a flash of lightning struck the pool's filter station. The manager visited every room, instructing everyone to stay out of the pool until further notice. He warned that the water could be electrified, which was enough to prompt Mom to phone Dad. He came to the motel, loaded up the car, and drove us to another motel.

Two days later, he joined us, and we set out for a surprise destination a couple of hundred miles away. This time, we found ourselves in an authentic Wild West town where we stayed in a log cabin and watched staged gunfights between outlaws and the sheriff. We got to ride horses, take a hayride into the forest under the stars, and yes, swim in a small lake.

My memories of those summer adventures have always stayed with me, especially when I hear thunder and see lightning on a hot summer’s day. 

— Mike, 2025