Story Two: Camping at Shadow Rock

Some of the greatest memories of my childhood were gathered at Shadow Rock park in Forsyth, Missouri. We would go there to camp every summer. The group would usually consist of my Grandparents, my Mom and Dad, my Brother and my Sister. We had a large tent and 2 station wagons. The boys, my brother Charley and I, would sleep on air mattresses in the back of the station wagon. This was really the best of the accommodations available. If the weather was good, we could leave the tailgate open and get a good breeze. If it rained, we had the only real shelter available. The women slept in the relative sanctity of the tent. It leaked badly,and was hot and stuffy if it didn't rain. So, Charley and I shared the penthouse every night. My Father and Grandpa slept on the covered picnic tables. This may all sound primitive to some, but to an 8 year old it was a mighty adventure. I should mention that we slept mostly with our heads on the tailgate. This logistic information is to let the reader know that, if we wanted to, and we usually did, we had an unobstructed view of the entire night sky. It was a beautiful thing, probably lost on an 8-year-old boy.

Mornings came early at Shadow Rock Park. There was much stirring in the campground as people were getting ready to go fishing or boating or whatever adventures awaited them. The sun was usually up by 7:00 or so. By this time, my Grandma Polly had been up for hours! She had built a fire and begun cooking breakfast over the open fire. (My Father had bought Grandma at least one new Coleman cook stove which, to my knowledge, was never taken out of the box. She was simply unable to cook on one of those newfangled devices.) I'll describe that feast for you: she would cook eggs to order, that's if you liked them scrambled, usually sprinkling in some wild onions that she'd picked. The menu usually included thick slices of fried bacon and panfried potatoes cooked in the bacon grease. Grandpa would have made his famous fluffy biscuits which had to be eaten warm with Grandma's fresh churned butter and homemade preserves. My favorite was the strawberry but there were others. Coffee was available cooked in an enamel coffeepot and boiled for hours. It was strong but a liberal amount of cream and sugar made it drinkable. Now I really can't describe to you the aromas that filled the air around our campsite, but to this day the scent of bacon frying in a cast iron skillet is one of the real pleasures of life.

Most of the time our little group of seven would swell in number around breakfast time. Grandma would complain but she'd continue to cook. We had people like park rangers, sheriffs, people who took the camping fees--all seemed to show up about breakfast time. There would be much conversation and laughter and the planning of the day just seemed to be a natural kind of process. It was a simple time with people enjoying simple pleasures. Shadow Rock Park is still there. It's different now. There are motels and hotels close by. Branson is just down the road and Table Rock Lake is a very short drive away. But, for me, Shadow Rock Park will always be frozen in time. I can still hear Granny saying, "Come on, boys. If you don't hurry, you're not going to get any breakfast." As if we really needed to be encouraged!