Fond Memories: Charlie and the Campers!

We did not know at the time that Charlie had never been camping before!

Happy Memorial Weekend!

There are many different patriotic things I could write about, honoring our #Army, #Navy, #Marines, #AirForce, #CoastGuard, and #SpaceForce; however, I decided to share a fond memory regarding camping. 

Frankly, I have never been real camping as many people do. The lack of inside amenities inverted to the outside with a piece of poison ivy as an emergency substance tool for sterilization of particular human body parts has never attracted me. Smile!

Plus, I have noticed with many a camper, the gear they take back in repeated trips to their camping ground for a variety of modern conveniences. I wonder if they really know the reason for camping, or just decided to set up homesteading!

But here is a darling memory of an adventurous group who wanted to camp on our hill.

Charlie and the Campers

Both Mom's and Dad’s personalities were such that they never knew a stranger. It didn’t matter who the person was, where they came from, or what station in life they were at; my parents seemed to welcome them all. (A trait I have been informed I inherited! smile!) 

To hear my Dad talk, once in a while, you would think he was narrow-minded in a few areas, but anyone who he met or showed up at the door would be welcome to come into the house. They would sit at the dining room table, be offered a cup of Folgers’ coffee, and listen to many amazing stories that Dad had to share. 

Dad would share memories of his past or the family, or his excavation work. He talked about rougher times as a kid growing up in the #GreatDepression down in Armourdale and how he and his sister, Inez, would have to wait in bread lines for food. He would relate how the family had to live in tar-paper shacks along the railroad. 

My parents would pick up friends who revered them and develop into long-lasting friendships that would span through their lives, and in the case of my Dad, many years after his death. Both were well known in the community and, to some extent, still are.

One such friend who adored Dad was Charlie. 

I do not know where Dad met him, or if he showed up at our house sometime for some reason, or what. Nevertheless, Charlie soon became one of the major individuals around our house who visited frequently, but was a good man and a good friend to Dad.

Charlie lived in Quindaro, an older and rough side of town in #KansasCity, Kansas, that had many violent inhabitants, many low-income individuals, and many good people stuck there. He was overweight and very black, but a super guy all around. He told us how he would go home and fall asleep on the floor. He could not sleep in his bed very often because he had to avoid the bullets flying through the window.

Charlie, undoubtedly, gave us a new way of thinking about life and living. Dad and Mom lived in Quindaro in the early part of their marriage, but it had changed immensely.

However, despite his rough upbringing and where he lived, he was a sweet soul. He cared for and mentored some neighborhood boys in his local church youth group. 

Charlie asked Dad if he could bring some of the boys out, and they could go camping on top of the hill behind our house. Dad had no qualms about saying yes. Of course, we did not know at the time that Charlie had never been camping before himself and wouldn’t really know how to camp

Nevertheless, Charlie and the boys came with heavy coats and backpacks and bows and arrows and fishing gear. They even had sleeping bags, of a sort, and were ready for their great adventure “back in the woods.” 

First thing was they were going to “hunt” for their own food with the bows and arrows. Of course, they didn’t know that the arrows were training arrows with blunt tips. Even I knew that. So it would be very hard, of course impossible, for any of them to pierce the side of a bunny rabbit, let alone the massive buck deer that I am sure they had in their dreams.

Mom’s extra reserve hot dogs that they cooked over their campfire came in handy that night as they sat in the cool air on top of the hill surrounded by trees, tree frogs, stars, and night owls.

While lying down to snuggle into their sleeping bags in the night air, a rustle began to slowly come through the bushes in the distance. It did not disturb the wild adventurers at first, until it seemed to be coming closer and closer to their campsite.

Soon, the campers were sitting up and then rising to their feet in increasing anxiety, when suddenly, in the dim light, they could see the large body of a tan-like creature “crouching” ever closer. Campers and camp leader immediately found their feet and began rushing down the hill’s pathway back to our house!

Strangely enough, Charlie, as robust as he was, went flying off the hill faster than his younger followers. He and the others knocked on our door in the middle of the night. We heard them as they frantically yelled that they were being chased by a mountain lion!

Dad and Mom quickly assured the adventurers that there were no mountain lions in the vicinity, only sometimes bobcats. However, none had been seen in the area for some time.

It was a short time later that our beautiful, tan colored “Old English Sheepdog,” Jessica, came up to the house. She happily greeted everyone as usual and brought her trusty oil can to play fetch with, for she could never keep a ball on our hill. She always hungered for company and was very friendly, following anyone anywhere around the hills.

The heroes, needless to say, slept in the trucks for the night, but the quest was not over for our adventurers. 

Early the next morning, the three hungry young men were up with their fishing rods and searching assiduously back on top of the hill for the river to catch their breakfast. 

Yes, on top of the hill. 

Despite being at least two miles away, the Missouri River can be seen from the top of the hill if not for the heavy foliage that time of year. This did not stop our adventurers, who were looking in the opposite direction as well as at the opposite height for a river. 

Mom saved the day for the adventurers, once again, by cooking some delicious warm pancakes that morning and feeding them until they were happily full. They didn’t stay long after that but went home a bit wiser about camping than they had been before, including their counselor.

Charlie was one of the visitors who often came to talk to Dad, just because he loved him and loved to listen to his stories. When Dad passed away in October of 1991, Charlie came to his funeral, and I made sure to thank him and give him a big hug. After all, knowing someone as long as we have, the person becomes more of a relative than just a friendly acquaintance. Same was said of our UPS man!

We have seen Charlie once in a while over the years, but we heard he had moved away. A really great guy and nothing ever kept him down!

I would love to hear what you think of this story of mine. Please write in the comments. Thank you!