Author: Easin' Along

Our country will be 249 years old on July 4th this year. Our nation was founded on the concept of freedom, and proudly, it remains so 249 years later. Wars were fought, and lives were lost in the defense of the freedoms we now enjoy. Millions of men and women (yours truly included) have worn the uniform of the United States to protect and preserve a nation conceived in liberty.

Although many will sing “Happy Birthday” to America, I felt it was appropriate to honor our nation’s birthday with two of the most patriotic songs ever written, and create videos using a few pictures taken on trips Helen and I have made through our staggeringly beautiful country. (Click on the video to view them)

The “Battle Hymn of the Republic,” written in 1861 by poet and abolitionist Julia Ward Howe, was a favorite of Northern troops fighting to preserve the Union and abolish slavery. The words are powerful and, more importantly, they tell listeners what we were fighting for, rather than what we were fighting against. At times, I am overcome with emotion when I hear it sung.

“God Bless America” was penned by the great Irving Berlin in 1938 as Hitler was forming a powerful army to conquer Europe and then attempt to take on the world. It was made famous through the powerful voice of Kate Smith and was an immediate hit when she first sang it on her radio show shortly after it was written. Many Americans wanted “God Bless America” to replace “The Star-Spangled Banner” as our National Anthem, but Berlin refused, saying that a National Anthem cannot be replaced. Nevertheless, both he and Kate Smith did the right thing and have donated all royalties from the song to the Girl Scouts and Boy Scouts of America, a commitment which lives to this day.

As each of you enjoys hot dogs, fireworks, family, friends, and a well-deserved day off, please pause for a moment or two to honor those brave souls who have given much over 249 years to keep our country proud, strong, and free.

Hope to see you on the road…we’re Easin’ Along.

After Helen and I returned from California in April, we rested up a little bit because we knew May was going to be busier than the lifestyle we enjoy in our RV. The lure of hooking up again and hitting the road passed through our retired brains more than once.

Spring had arrived in Knoxville, and that meant a lot of yard work that had gone neglected. Fortunately, Helen enjoys working around her plants and flowers and does more than her fair share of the labor. She hired a landscaper to remove some unruly bushes around our deck steps and replace them with something more manageable.

I had developed a considerable amount of “unwanted baggage” around my mid-section on our trip, so I jumped back into my exercise class with all the gusto of the young-at-heart 77-year-old that I am. During the warmer months, our classes are held in an outdoor pavilion situated in a local community park. When the early morning breeze wafts through the pavilion, I pay scant notice to the agony of deep knee bends or hamstring curls. I enjoy the class immensely.

In late May, we hooked up the RV once more, put Mortimer in the back seat of the truck, and took off for Charleston. Our granddaughter, Bennett, was completing her eighth-grade year at Mason Preparatory School, and we wanted to be there for the Awards Ceremony and graduation.

Of course, we can’t pass our favorite campground when driving southeast, so we stopped in at Happy Holiday in Cherokee, NC, to sit by the creek and try our luck in the Casino. I did pretty well on the trip…until Helen canceled me out.

We camped at James Island County Park in Charleston while there and were fortunate to obtain a reservation. James Island is an extremely well-run facility, and its summer campsites fill up quickly. We tucked Dora in the woods and enjoyed complete privacy.

On the Thursday before graduation, Mason Prep has an award ceremony to recognize both academic and athletic achievements. We knew that Bennett was in the running for several awards during the Ceremony on Thursday, as well as during the graduation service on Friday. The recognition Bennett received blew Helen and me away. I’ll list the accomplishments below, and if it appears that I am bragging, it’s because I am.

On Thursday, Bennett received recognition for being on the Headmaster’s list for the entire year for having grades of 93 and above in each subject. She also received the Student-Athlete Award for girls, as chosen by the athletic directors and Head of School. Bennett excelled in both basketball and volleyball. Her primary sport is soccer, but since Mason Prep does not field a soccer team, Bennett was allowed to play as an eighth-grader for the local high school JV team. Although her teammates were high schoolers, she took the Trojan Award for player excellence.

More recognition followed on Friday during the Graduation Ceremony. Bennett graduated as First Honor Graduate (combined highest 7th and 8th grade yearly averages). She received the award as the top student in French and, most impressively, was voted the Alberta Sotille Long Citizenship Award by the eighth-grade class in secret ballots.

She closed the Ceremony with an address to her classmates and the audience. By then, my shirt buttons were under considerable strain. I introduced myself to all I met as “Bennett’s grandfather.” It was a helluva weekend, and Helen and I are so fortunate that we could attend.

When we returned to Knoxville, we learned that Carter, our California eighth-grader, had also been honored at the end of his school year. Allow me to brag once again.

Carter received the Young Historian Award for outstanding achievement in the subject of history. He also received the President’s Award for Outstanding Academic Excellence and was presented with a certificate signed by President Trump. When I heard the news, I was sure he could hear me shout from Tennessee.

We’re Easin’ Along into June for now but look back with much pride and joy at a very busy May. How was yours?

Author’s note: We have no travel plans for the summer, which means material for blogging and opportunities for photography might be limited. If you don’t see us for a few weeks, please know that we shall return. To my bloggy friends, please keep up the great work–I’ll always be in the audience. Joe

Everything pointed to a satisfactory situation, and we could drive back to Knoxville, confident that my treatment in San Diego was sufficient and successful. A cloud followed us all the way.

Readers may recall that I entered the Navy Medical Center in San Diego for treatment of a perforated appendix. The care was excellent, and the surgeons determined that I didn’t require surgery because the perforation closed and walled itself off.

Our reservation in Coronado Bay ended two days after we left the Medical Center, signaling the time to begin our trip back east. Mortimer reluctantly agreed to leave the beach.

Because I still had some doubts regarding my condition, Helen and I decided that rather than race back to Knoxville, we would take it slow, spending two or more nights at each stop. Most of our reservations for the return were for campgrounds at military bases, where treatment was available should something go awry. I’ll summarize our trip home and include pictures of our stops along the way.

El Centro, CA, was the first stop where the Blue Angels gave us an over-the-top performance of aerial showmanship.

Three nights in Holbrook, AZ, gave us enough time to visit the Petrified Forest and the Painted Desert on a delightful day in the sun—no sign of trouble so far.

In Albuquerque, NM, things became unglued a bit. We have camped at Kirtland AFB on every trip we’ve taken to or from the West Coast and have always entered through the Main Gate to the Base. We decided to enter through the back gate on this trip because it is very close to the campground. I approached the entrance, where a young Airman waved me through. I hesitated because the opening seemed a little tight for our truck and trailer.

The Airman continued to wave me on. I heard a loud crunch from the trailer as I passed the pillars holding the overhead sign for Kirtland. I looked through the side mirrors and saw that the meeting of the pillar and our trailer stripped the fender off the driver’s side and an awning arm from the passenger side. The pain I felt at that moment was ten times worse than my attack of appendicitis.

After documenting the accident with the Air Police, we pulled into the campground to lick our wounds. The camper next to us immediately came over and explained that he witnessed the accident and wanted to help. He introduced himself as Wilson, a retired Navy seaman who now camped year-round with his family. I graciously accepted his offer but asked if we could start the repairs the next morning. We had driven for most of the day and were very tired.

“Sure,” he said, “I’ll be over around nine.”

The following day, at eight fifty-five, Wilson stood on a ladder and inspected the mangled awning arm. He told me that he had seen several campers have the same mishap entering the gate since he had arrived several months earlier and knew how to put me back together.

It turned out that Wilson camped in a large motorhome and towed a full-blown tool shed in a trailer behind him. Not only did he have the tools, but he knew how to use them. Before the morning was over, Wilson had returned the awning to a towable position and removed the damaged fender by cutting off the bent metal and leaving a smooth surface. God had sent a Little Angel to rescue us, just as He sent Fred to rescue us in Barstow, CA, when our bedroom slide wouldn’t retract.

I offered to pay Wilson several times, but he refused the money. “Just pay it forward,” he said and walked away. Helen baked a plate of Brownies for Wilson and his family that night. He accepted. Now fully restored to a towable condition, we returned to the road and hopefully will have the trailer repaired when we arrive home.

Next, we camped at Tinker AFB in Oklahoma City, OK, and were issued the Prime Spot facing the Big Pond and the setting sun. Tinker is always tricky because it is a small campground and doesn’t accept reservations. Luck was with us here.

After two nights at Tinker, we drove along I-40 to Roland, OK, on the Arkansas border, where we camped in the small campground next to the Cherokee Casino. The five campsites have full hookups, and best of all, there is no charge. Nevertheless, one night in the Casino usually guarantees that the Oklahoma Cherokees get paid in full for their hospitality.

Midway Campground at the Millington (TN) Naval Station is the last stop before home. This campground is nice and clean and very affordable, at $19 a night. Helen, Mortimer, and I drove the eight hours to Knoxville the next day, arriving just in time for the birth of Spring in East Tennessee.

I spent the next three weeks attending many postponed appointments, preparing 2024 taxes for my mom and me, and reacquainting ourselves with our neighbors, friends from my exercise class, and the church congregation. I also saw a surgeon for my appendix, who assured me that I did not need surgery. Next up was an estimate for the repairs for our fifth wheel–I never got there.

On a Tuesday two weeks ago, I noticed an uncomfortable sensation in the area of my appendix. By Wednesday, I knew something wasn’t right. I called the surgeon’s office I consulted earlier. His assistant scheduled me for a CT scan later that day.

I completed the scan and drove home to await the results. I wasn’t ten minutes from the diagnostic center when I received a call from a lady in the lab who told me the radiologist had said to report immediately to the emergency room. My appendix came out that night.

A little over a week later, I have recovered and am moving about freely. By the time this post is published, I expect to declare myself healed except for lifting heavy objects.

I’m grateful for the care I received and the calls from friends, family, and the ministers from our church. The weather is gorgeous here in Knoxville, and I’m ready to be out and about.

Let’s Ease Along–That cloud that followed us is nowhere around.