Author: Easin' Along

In 1979, Helen and I were planning an end of summer vacation to Pawleys Island, SC, a cozy little beach community that she visited with her parents from the time she was about six years old. I learned to love Pawleys Island while stationed at nearby Ft. Jackson, SC during my Army days. Although much has changed about Pawleys Island since those days, the best description I can give for the town at that time is that there was nothing to do there but relax, swim, work on our tan, and cook seafood.

We rented a small, two-bedroom house for that vacation and decided to ask our dear friends, John and Debbie if they would like to share the house with us. Neither of them had been to Pawleys before and this would be a great way to celebrate John’s 30^th birthday in the middle of the week. So, with our very young children parked at the grandparents, we took off for some fun in the sun, oblivious to Hurricane David roiling the Atlantic off to our south and moving in the direction of the South Carolina coast.

During the middle of the week, on John’s birthday, we were forced to evacuate the island.  Fortunately, we were smart enough to call ahead and obtain a reservation for the last room available in a Florence, SC motel. Fortunately because room seekers filled the lobby of the motel when we arrived and we could only smile at them as we worked our way through the crowd to pick up the last key from a frazzled desk clerk. We spent John’s birthday eating Kentucky Fried Chicken in a musty motel room while the winds of Hurricane David blew rainwater under our door.

That experience did nothing to discourage us from returning to Pawleys Island. For many years after that, we returned with our children and summer vacations at Pawleys became a tradition until the children gave us grandchildren and we could no longer find a house big enough to hold us. I treasure those days and still smile every time we tell the story of our that first trip.

Fast-forward forty years…

Our children are grown and scattered across the country. Helen and I spend much of our retirement traveling in our RV. John and Debbie, two hard-working professionals, remain beach lovers and now own a lovely vacation home in one of South Carolina’s premier beachside communities which they have shared with us many times. Our schedules and time with our families don’t allow us as much time to get together as we once did, but when they invited us down for Labor Day weekend, they didn’t have to ask twice. We would also celebrate John’s 70^th birthday.

The invitation was an opportunity to visit our son and his family in Charleston, and there is no way we can pass up time and hugs with our grandchildren. Coincidentally, our son would also celebrate a birthday this month and Helen teamed up with the girls to bake a cake for him. Charleston was experiencing King Tide at this time so, while the cake baked, we sat on the dock behind the house and watched the tide fill the marsh. The still water gave no clue that another hurricane was in our future.

We arrived at the resort on Friday before Labor Day. John and Debbie’s oldest son and his family joined us for the weekend.  John made reservations at the Royal Tern, a restaurant near Charleston operated by the son of a friend and fraternity brother of ours from college days. It turned out that our friend, Jack was in the restaurant that night and we were able to catch up over an awesome seafood dinner, topped off by an amazing 30-layer tiramisu that was almost too pretty to eat.

The next day, a clear sky remained overhead and we spent a delightful day at the beach and the pool. Hurricane warnings filled the news but we chose to ignore them, thinking that there was no way that history would repeat itself.

Nevertheless, you can’t mess with Mother Nature. After leaving the Bahamas, Hurricane Dorian turned westward and was predicted to parallel the east coast and cut short another vacation.

We weren’t deterred however from a birthday celebration that evening as we gathered at a local spot for an incredible seafood dinner that was as good as any I’ve ever had. At the end of our meal, a surprise dessert arrived for John and we had the pleasure of embarrassing him with a loud rendition of Happy Birthday to the delight of restaurant patrons. Our meal contrasted sharply with the Kentucky Fried Chicken of forty years ago, and gave us one more good laugh.

Sunday, a looming hurricane gave us a rainy day on the coast.  We helped John and Debbie pack a few things away for safekeeping and said our goodbyes.  The South Carolina governor had converted all of the interstate lanes away from the coast and there was a rush to evacuate. We joined the long line of Labor Day traffic and sped away with no regrets.  Not even another hurricane can spoil friendship and fun.

We’re blessed and we’re still Easin’ Along.

Not much time for an update this week.  We’re Easin’ Along toward Charleston for some sun, fun, and grandchildren hugs. We’ll be up and running next week and will pass those hugs back to you.

 

Until then, we send our best wishes for a safe and fun-filled Labor Day weekend. We are praying for the safety of our friends and family in Florida.

We’re supposed to be parked on the shore of Lake Ontario this week. Helen and I had put together an August trip built around our 48th anniversary and a week at the Chataqua Institute in northern New York. After hearing lectures from world-renowned speakers on the subject of Global Power, plus evenings filled with concert music and talks on lighter subjects, we knew our heads would be spinning. So, we hoped to continue our journey and explore Swan Bay, NY, the Thousand Islands region, then venture into Canada, returning to Niagara Falls before heading home. With every detail arranged and Lucy serviced we were anticipating the trip. What’s that saying about “The best-laid plans of mice and men…”

During our trip out west this spring, I began to notice some discomfort in my right knee.  I did my best to ignore it, thinking it was related to some long days of driving. Swelling in the joint soon followed and, by the time we made it back to Knoxville, I was in considerable pain.  I made an appointment with the surgeon who replaced Helen’s knees last year, hoping for the best, but prepared for the worst.  Sure enough, arthritis had gobbled a chunk of my knee and a replacement was the best option.

This story does not end here. Helen began to notice some pain in her right hip. Helen does not wait around.  She immediately went to see the surgeon who replaced my hip last summer.  The verdict…hip replacement, although other options were available. Those options, however, would only postpone the inevitable.  As I write this she is in the pre-op classes at the University of Tennessee Medical Center. My classes take place in two weeks.

After digesting all of this distressing news we decided that we had no business ruining a delightful trip to New York and Canada only to hobble around with one hand on a cane and the other buried in a bottle of Advil. We canceled all of our reservations, gave each other a big hug, then went to our favorite Mexican restaurant for dinner. We may be in pain, but still blessed beyond words. There will be other trips.

We flailed around for a few days after putting our Canadian trip out of our heads before Helen decided that she couldn’t stand going through August without a camping trip to calm the soul. We may not be able to hike or do a lot of sightseeing on foot, but we can most certainly sit by a mountain stream while enjoying morning coffee.  Helen called our favorite campground near Cherokee, North Carolina to see if a creekside campsite was available. Bingo…she booked one for three nights, thought for a minute, then called back and booked one more night. “Take that, you #*!% hip!”

The drive to Cherokee is only two hours which is about the limit with my knees as they are now. The jobs of hitching and unhitching Lucy (trailer) aren’t as easy as they used to be with good knees, but if I take it slow, I do ok. Walking for more than about five minutes and standing with my weight on my bad knee is where I get into trouble so, after getting Lucy settled, I pulled out my rocking chair and watched the creek go by. Things could be a lot worse. I placed a video here.  See if you agree.

After a couple of days of reading and creek-watching, we felt like we could handle a day-trip to nearby Bryson City, NC, one of our favorite places in the whole world. We parked Butch (truck) on the bridge over the Tuckasegee River and took pictures of the flower arrangements planted in the boxes on the bridge railings. The begonias (above) stood out very dramatically.

Our usual first stop is Bennett’s Drugs which is now an antique store. About two years ago we purchased antique silverware for our camper here at a very reasonable price, and have returned every time we camp in the area. The shop is an eclectic mix of furniture, collectibles, old photographs and music albums.  The shop owner also has two talking birds caged in the store which only add to the uniqueness of the place.

We walked more than we should have, but it’s difficult to leave Bryson City.  We made stops at the wonderful chocolate shop to buy some dark chocolate brittle bark and some dark chocolate-covered toffee to take back to Lucy. At lunchtime we ventured into High Test delicatessen for the best sandwiches on the planet. We took them with us for the 10-mile drive back to Cherokee to enjoy by the creek. That night we visited the Cherokee Casino to see if we could get a down payment on the impending medical bills.  I did great…Helen canceled me out.

Although we did very little on this trip, we managed to soothe the pains of our worn-out body parts as well as the pain of losing out on a trip to New York and Canada, but we’ll heal.  We’re blessed, and we’re still Easin’ Along…with a slight limp!