On Sunday evening, we got together with my father and brothers, Bill and Allen, for dinner out at Bill’s house. I got my annual dose of Memphis barbeque and enjoyed a quiet and leisurely evening swapping stories and chatting. My dad had managed to find a replacement hubcap for the one we lost outside of Sacto (and a spare, just in case), and Allen fixed a problem we’d been having with the passenger door handle of the bus. Much as the human body is said to replace itself over the course of seven years, I wondered how many parts of the bus would be replaced if I simply stayed in Memphis longer. Much thanks to Allen and Dad for the help! Every little bit makes the trip that much more enjoyable.
On Monday morning we gathered at my aunt’s house and started a caravan into northern Arkansas, towards the Spring River. The group consisted of the two of us, my mother, my aunt, my cousin Tim, his wife Mary, and their two kids Samantha and TJ (six and four years old). Samantha asked if she could ride with us, and mostly sat quiet during the ride, only occasionally peppering us with questions. On the way into Arkansas, we drove through the heaviest downpour we had seen in years; the rain was thick enough that we had to slow down several times until we could see the vehicles ahead of us again.
But, we made it to our hotel in Hardy, Ark without any disasters, and found a restaurant for the evening. My cousin Tim has a real flair for telling stories, and once the two of us get rolling, we can talk and laugh away the night. It was a real pleasure to see how the boy I remembered had grown into the man he is today. He absolutely adores and dotes on his two kids, and I can see how aspects of our upbringing are being passed to them today. Both of them have been regularly schooled with “Sir” and “Ma’am” and “Please” and “May I” and “Thank you” and all the rest of the lubricating set of manners that I still exhibit by reflex.
We retired early, to get good sleep before the day on the river.