Daffodil Lane

The company my father worked for had a track of land that was on Chickamauga Lake and we camped there from the time I was a small child up until a few years ago. For those of you that are curious where that is, the area of the lake we camped on was in East Tennessee around Cotton Port and Decatur. The last time I camped there was July of 1998. Jamison and I spent the night out there with our parents around the 4th of July. We only camped one night because that summer was as hot as Hades but that's a different story all together.

I have many happy memories of the lake. We called it "Water Gate" because the track of land had two gates you had to pass through to get to our campsite and it was on the water. We were kids, it was simple, life was simple. You have water and a gate, "Water Gate". We spent the majority of the summer out there for years. The picture below is the cove where we camped. The dock at the end of the picture was our dock. My grandfather and father built it and then various people helped us keep it up over the years.

My father took this picture a few weeks ago when he and my Mom took Joesf and Hana out for a boat ride. I look at this picture and memories come flooding back. I remember going out to the lake one cool fall day to work on the dock when the water was down as it was all fall and all winter. That day we picked up chili at Wendy's on the way out and had a picnic. I still remember the way the chili tastes and the saltine crackers even all these years later. I had on a crocheted hat that I have no clue where I got it from, jeans, a sweater and black boots. The leaves were falling and the air was brisk. It's strange what you remember years later. I was very young when that happened.

I also remember laying on my back on the dock looking at the stars. I remember our camp fire and roasting marshmallows at night for S'Mores and biscuits on a stick for breakfast. I remember catching frogs and crayfish. I remember trapping minnows and fishing. I remember swimming and floating around in the water all day. I remember that occasional water snake that would scare the living daylights out of us all! I remember my grandfather's garden out there and the banana peppers and tomatoes he grew. I remember watermelon and homemade ice cream. I remember how bad the outhouse smelled! I remember taking baths in the lake and rowing in the row boat. I remember how the tin roof of the picnic table had holes in it and sunshine or raindrops would come through those little holes. I remember playing cards and chasing the hornet we called "Billy" away from the table. I remember my father doing the same bird call at a certain part of the lake we called "Disneyworld" every time we took the boat through there and singing "Zip-a-dee-doo-dah". I remember fire works on the 4th of July and the stump in the water we called the "Loch Ness Monster". I remember when Mom told us to say Grace and someone yelled "Grace!" and all the cows across the lake starting running like someone had called them. I remember getting on floats when Dad and Daddy were going out fishing and begging for them to go fast in the boat and make waves for us. I remember how loud and smelly my grandfather's generator was. He ran it so he could watch TV at night in the trailer. I remember tiki torches and Japanese lanterns. Just one look at that picture and it all come flooding back.

My grandparents on my father's side would take their Airstream trailer out and park it on our campsite and spend the summer and early fall out there. We would come out on the weekends and in some cases during the week and swim and fish and ride in our boats. We pitched a tent and we either slept in the tent with Mom or Daddy or one of us would sleep in the trailer in the extra bed. I remember sleeping in the trailer and looking up through the trees over the window at the full moon. I can still see those moon rays floating down. All in all our summers were fun!

When I think of the lake I especially think about my grandfather. We called him "Dad". He was definitely a kindred spirit. He had a way with all creatures. One day there was a green tree snake and he brought it down for us to look at. It's the first and only time I was ever around a snake of any sort that I wasn't completely horrified and terrified by. The little snake just sat there in his hands calm as you please and stuck its tongue in and out. We even touched it. I remember him telling us that all snakes were not bad and this little green snake was a perfect example. He let it crawl back up in the tree and I remember being amazed.

My grandfather was also an avid fisherman. But I think he liked drinking beer while fishing just as much as actually fishing. He had a green fiberglass fishing boat, which much to my mom's chagrin, is still sitting in my parents yard to this day. I remember the straw hat he wore with a black band, his royal blue shorts, black knee socks, and polo shirt which he always had a lead pencil sticking in the pocket of. He'd put that hat on and off he'd go in that boat with a smile on his face so big it would warm your heart. He smiled and his whole face lit up. Most of the time my father went with him but sometimes it was just Dad. He'd fly off in the boat and come back with fish for dinner. He'd bring them out of the live well and clean them for frying.

Dad also taught me how to clean fish, and at the time I didn't think anything about the fact that it was sort of gross being that we were killing a live animal. He also showed me how to poke holes in the air bladders on the fish's carcass so you could throw them back into the lake, where they would sink to the bottom so they wouldn't stink up the place and be food for the turtles.

My grandfather was a wonderful story teller. I remember one story he told about a lizard on a fence post on his grandfather's farm. I don't remember a lot of the story itself other than the topic but I do remember how he showed us how long the lizard was with his finger. I can still see his hands as he told that story. I think I remember them because I was fascinated with the way he talked with his hands. He was an artist and his hands were an integral part of how he expressed himself. He did woodwork and water colors. If he put his mind to it he could make or draw anything. He also played the piano by ear. He was a genius in his own right. He utterly fascinated me!

My grandfather died in April of 1987 and I felt like my heart had been ripped out. My kindred spirit was gone. Some days it doesn't seem like it's been 17 years since I saw him last or heard his voice. Other days it seems like it has been an eternity! Sometimes I'm sure that Alexis sees him. She talks to someone I can't see at times and when we pass the picture of Dad in the hallway she points to the picture and calls it the same name she uses when she's talking to whomever she sees. It comforts me to think that he might be watching her and me, but for now back to the lake.

As we got older my sister and I would take friends out to the lake with us. Our brothers (we aren't actually related but we claim them as brothers anyway) Blake and Trampus spent a lot of time with us out at the lake with their parents, who are like our second parents. My best friend Darlene and her little sister Cynthia spent a lot of time out there with us too. Other good friends came as they passed through our life. Our next door neighbor Kim and her mother Laura, my other best friend Sonya, Susan a dear friend in high school, the Skeltons and the Mashburns who are like family to us as well, Angie another friend from high school, they all came with us. At some point and time if you knew us during those years you came to the lake with us. It was just the natural thing to do.

My father retired a year ago or so. We no longer camp at "Water Gate". I guess you would say it's the end of an era. But I still remember all the time we spent there. I look back at those years now and smile. Sometimes, especially when I was teenager, I wouldn't want to go if I couldn't take a friend with me, but now I'm glad I did go. I miss those summers on the the lake, the boat rides, the swimming, the laughing with friends. I miss the water. I can only hope that Alexis has some place to go that she can remember fondly years later. Everyone needs a "Water Gate" to spend their childhood summers, whether it be a beach or a state park or somewhere you go at least once every summer and remember forever more.