One evening we visited my aunt who lived across the field from us when we were kids and was always available when Mom had to work. She's the same as always, only a little older. Visiting with her I remembered growing up and how good she was to us. Here's one of my favorite memories.
Remembering Brannan's Bluff
Before I could drive myself, Aunt Eva Lea would take us to the "big creek" at Brannan's Bluff on Baron Fork Creek near Proctor, OK. After chores were done, my cousins (Glenda and Rhonda) and my sisters (Gail and Sandra) and I jumped into the back of Uncle Jewel's red Chevy pick-up truck. We climbed up two or three rungs on the wooden stock rack and rode there as we headed to the water. The hot summer wind rushed through our hair as we sped down the road and we waved to all we met, happy to be on our way.
After we turned off the highway onto the dusty lane, we climbed down and crowded around the narrow gate. Almost before the wheels stopped, we hopped out and raced bare-foot across the rocks to see who would be first in the water. We dropped towels on the way and shouted to those behind to hurry. Once to the shore, we dived straight into the clear, cold water, swam across to the bluff and climbed the gray flint wall to the natural cut ledges. The bluff had varying heights so you could choose where to stop, depending on how brave you felt at the time. On the lower levels, sometimes still knee deep in the water, we practiced diving. Other times we climbed as high as we could and jumped off. Sandra was too little and didn't swim well enough to make it to the bluff, so she stayed close to shore with friends -- new or old -- that she found.
I stood on the narrow ledge and looked down at the scene below. Groups of swimmers laughed and splashed each other. Some floated on inner tubes and rafts. On the gravel bar to one side, teenage girls sun bathed and shared secrets. Rock and roll from transistor radios echoed off the rock wall. The smell of Coppertone drifted in the still summer air. Birds swooped and darted in the cloudless blue sky. A towel over her head to protect her from the sun, Aunt Eva Lea sat in her folding chair at the edge of the water in what little shade she found. The water sparkled and reflected the sun, except in the shadow of the bluff. In the deep water, fish swam lazily or hid under a ledge. It was a glorious place to be when I was a young teen. I was at that just right age before worrying about looks, boys and popularity yet after being an over protected kid.
Rhonda jumped. Then I did. Or we all four played follow the leader or other games we made up as we went along. We climbed and jumped and swam until, breathless and shivering, we found a sunny spot to rest and get warm. Rhonda, with blue tinged lips and fingers, sat on the ledge just long enough to stop shaking. Denying she was cold, she jumped in again and we were all off once more.
After about two hours, it was time to go. We heard Aunt Eva Lea call us but delayed as long as possible. We swam to the shallow side and begged for just one more jump. She must have been about to melt from the heat but was kind and usually gave us a few more minutes. Eventually, we all came dragging out, wrapped our towels around us then climbed in the back of the truck for the ride home. Often, since we were starving -- or thought we were-- we stopped at the Proctor Store for an ice cold Coke and a candy bar. As soon as we got home, we ran down to our little creek and played until supper. We fell into bed exhausted and slept the dreamless sleep of the young.
Those were the days!
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