The Last Vacation (1966)

While driving home from work the other day and listening to the 60’s channel on Sirius XM, I heard “Summer in the City” by the Lovin’ Spoonful.  You may remember the lyrics…

 

“Hot town, summer in the city

Back of my neck getting dirty and gritty

Been down, isn't it a pity

Doesn't seem to be a shadow in the city

All around, people looking half dead

Walking on the sidewalk, hotter than a match head” 

It immediately brought me back to a happy moment in the summer of 1966 while driving through East Texas with my stepfather, Weldon, and my little brother Woody.   It was our annual (and for me, my last) summer vacation before college.  My sister, Marcia, had already started college and wasn’t on this trip.  Woody and I had been inseparable for the last 11 years of his life.  I was his older brother, babysitter, counselor and tormentor.  
 

With my sister gone most of the time and my mother always working, it was up to me to watch out for Woody and to provide what little entertainment I could in those lazy days of summer.  Weldon divorced our Mom in 1961 and provided support and a once a year vacation for us.  The vacation was always the same. 

We would travel several hundreds of miles in Weldon’s 1960 Ford Galaxy 500 to Lake Charles, LA for a week.  Then we would travel several hundred more miles to North Texas to stay with relatives.  The highlight of the trip was a one day visit to “Six Flags Over Texas” theme park in Dallas.  The week in Lake Charles was often hot, humid and boring.  Weldon’s house had no air conditioning and the attic fan would draw moist air through a window at night to keep us cool.  We would wake up with wet sheets the next morning.  The refineries also provided a sulfur odor to go along with the moist air.  Woody and I took pictures of Weldon in his Border Patrol uniform with his gun drawn like a scene from an old western.  We also posed with the gun.  Mom still has the pictures.




 

The road trips were long and seemed forever.  Weldon was one of those Dads more interested in “getting there” than he was in stopping to see the sights.  We often had to beg him to stop just for a bathroom break.  I remember the “road trip from hell” in 1956 when we drove a 1955 Buick from Camden, NJ to Brownsville, TX in five days without any stops.  I was carsick for 4 of the 5 days.  Weldon wouldn’t stop although I was sick and about to vomit.  He almost wrecked the car when I vomited over his shoulder and into his lap.  I heard a lot of cuss words that trip.

During our vacation in the summer of 1965, we stopped at a roadside park with a tall fire watch tower.  Woody and I couldn’t resist climbing the 20 or so flights of stairs to the top.  That was before lawsuits and locked facilities.  I remember the summer of 1966 was very hot.  Woody and I sat next to Weldon on the front bench seat so we could be close to the small air conditioner unit under the dash. 

 

As boys will do we entertained ourselves by non-stop talking, singing to the radio and picking on one another.  It must have been stressful for Weldon.  At one point, Weldon had enough and shouted “Hot Damn.”   Without missing a beat, Woody and I broke into song by singing “Summer in the City.”  It was a memorable moment that brought laughter to both of us.  I don’t think Weldon got the joke.  It was also a sad moment because it was to be the last vacation and the last of my relationship with Woody for a long time.

My senior year in high school was a whirlwind of activity and I did not spend many evenings and weekends with Woody and his neighborhood friends. No more pretending he was Spiderman and I was the Hulk.  No more playing “torture track” by riding blindfolded on the back of a banana bike while I drove up and over sidewalks and obstacles.  No more practical jokes and the resulting beating I would give Woody and “Jimbo” Kittany when I chased them down the street.  No more laying in bunk beds late at night and making up stupid things to say or climbing out on the roof to cool off.

Finally, the day arrived for me to make my last trip to Lake Charles to start college at McNeese State University.  I said my goodbyes, but as a sixth grader, Woody, expected he would see me soon.  He was wrong.  I seldom came back to Blytheville, Arkansas after I started college.  I worked 2-3 jobs at a time and took a full schedule of courses.  It was the only way I could afford to attend college and also keep my student deferment from the Vietnam War draft. 

I only remember coming home once after the end of my freshman year.  Woody and Jimbo would often sit around and reminisce about the fun we used to have.  Then Woody experienced junior high, girls and other distractions and life moved on.  I worked and studied for five years until I graduated.  At one point, I dropped my student deferment and waited to be drafted.  My draft lottery number was 79 out of 365, so I was pretty sure I would go to Vietnam.  However, the war was winding down by 1970 and I wasn’t called.

Woody became “Woodrow” and dropped out of school.  He moved to Cooper, TX where Weldon had retired and bought a house.  During that time of lost innocence and the hardships of life, we lost contact with each other and, sadly, we never got to know each other as adults.  I was no longer the older brother Woody looked up to and he had learned to take care of himself.  I visited Woody and Weldon in the little town of Cooper, TX one summer at the end of my junior year.  Woody introduced me to “weed” and his friends, but I never chose to go down that path.  I left town disappointed and lonely.

In the years after college, I became a committed Christian while Woody became a committed pagan.  Weldon and I grew closer because I wasn’t angry at the world anymore and forgave my past.  Woody was unreachable and became more introverted as an adult.   Most of my trips to Weldon’s house during the post-college period found Woody was not around.  Weldon and I would sit on the front porch and watch my daughter play in the yard.  Weldon told me he was proud of me (for the first time in my life).   I was a happy man.

Now the song “Summer in the City” brings a bittersweet sadness to me.  I did not know at that time that simple moments of joy and happiness were so temporary.  I did not imagine the closeness Woody and I had would end.  I guess it is true that happiness is a momentary thing and we should enjoy those moments while we can.  Live for the moment and cherish what happiness and joy life gives you.  Value the relationships in your life and don’t let your goals and ambitions cause you to lose them.

And never stop listening to the "oldies."