Monday Memoirs: {1995} Part 1 Going to Dollywood

In 1995 my world changed.  

I was 13 the summer of '95 and a few months from turning 14.  

My mom was pregnant with my {one and only} brother who would be born a few weeks after this trip.  I was torn with feelings about becoming a sibling {for the first time} at nearly 14 years old.

Talk about teenage angst.

My extended family {my mammaw, pappaw, aunts (two of them, both chain smokers), uncles (three of them, very different from each other), and cousin (seven years my junior)} piled up in two cars to go to the Smokey Mountains.  By God we were going to Dollywood!

To start off this three hour drive you must know that one aunt had decided to quit smoking the day before this trip.  She had been smoking for probably 22 years.  Just for the record:  if you are going on a vacation with family who has up and decided to quit an addiction cold turkey {the day of the drive} you better just stay home.

I was in her car.

Ten miles into the drive the words I would hear a gazillion times started to be uttered:

"I need a cigarette."

The ride to Pigeon Forge, TN from my hometown is boring.  It is all interstate - I-40 to be exact.  Interstate riding when you are 13 is horrible.  Between the boring billboards and passing 18 wheelers and my aunt's lament for cigarettes I was wishing I was at home.

When we were up into the the Appalachians my Pappaw {in the other car} decided to take a short-cut he knew to get to Pigeon Forge.  What you must know about my Papaw is that he always has a short-cut.  He probably has a short-cut to Japan from his military days.  No one ever said "no" when he offered his short cut approach and I really do not know why.  It was dark, we were in the high country, and now we were taking his short cut route.

Heaven help us.

We were off the interstate.  In the dark on a winding, curvy, followed-a-black-snake-to-build-it-kind-of-road.  Now I was listening to my enraged aunt, who needed nicotine horribly, yell out I NEED A CIGARETTE!  My uncle was turning green with every bend in the road saying, "I'm going to vomit."  My little cousin was giggling beside me.

The short-cut added time to our trip.

It was nearly midnight.

We should have been at our destination HOURS ago.

Both cars pulled over.

My aunt jumped out and let the whole mountain village know that she hadn't had a cigarette and somebody better give her one ASAP or there would be an ass whoopin' of epic proportions.

My uncle got out and put his head between his knees.

My cousin kept giggling.

What was the next move?

It was across the street.

A nasty, hole in the wall motel called...The Teddy Bear.

I imagine, now that I'm older, the Teddy Bear was for rentals by the hour and not for families on their way to Dollywood.  Bad Teddy Bear!

The men went in and rented two rooms.

We all walked into our rooms and froze.  Lovely 60's style A frame rooms complete with mouse holes in the mattresses and bugs in the toilet.

My uncle got right under those covers.  He said he had stayed in worse places in college.

I slept on top of the covers.  My cousin....giggled.

The next day we were in Pigeon Forge.  We got settled in our nice condo and washed the nasty off of us.  We spent the afternoon at Dollywood.  My Pappaw did military cadences through the park which embarrased the shit out of me but my little cousin delighted in them.  She walked behind him marching like a little soldier and being his echo.

I just sat back and listened to the conductor of the tram tell us over and over to keep all hands, feet and other objects inside the tram at all times.  That would be a message we would all make light of and convey at random times to each other the remainder of the trip.

And to be honest the remainder of the trip was peaceful.  My aunt went back to her Marlboro addiction.  We laughed and smiled.  And when it came time to go home....we skipped the short cuts.