We spent a lot of time in Springfield, Missouri last year, starting with a couple weeks in June, visiting my dad and getting some work done on Bessie. That’s where we found newborn Gypsy, screaming from deep inside the undercarriage of the RV next to us on the service lot (see Kitten Rescue). When Dad had to have heart surgery in September, we high-tailed it back from Rhode Island and spent another three weeks. Both times we camped out on the Reliable RV service lot, which is handily half a mile from Dad’s. Bessie needed a little more work, and I wanted one last visit with Dad, so we returned to Springfield one more time before heading west.
Good Ol’ Reliable
Gypsy at home in the RV lot.
Bessie really has been dependable, but there are lots of little things that go wrong in an RV’s first year, and we’ve been meticulous about getting every little thing fixed (mostly under warranty). Reliable RV has been stupendous. Most people wouldn’t be happy about spending weeks in an RV service lot, but we’re always welcomed back with smiles and waves from the bustling workers. Our service rep, Jason, doesn’t grimace at our nit-picky lists, and he was even able to get Winnebago to cover some repairs past warranty. We’d been worried that we might need to replace our awning after its close encounter with a pole, but they were able to repair it with a minor adjustment for $27.
Heart-Stopping Escape
We have to be so careful to not let Gypsy shoot out of open windows or doors. When one leaves, the other holds back the cat, and we knock and wait for the all clear before re-entering. When we both leave, we back out of the door like bank robbers armed with a squirt bottle, and when we return, we shoot blind through the cracked door, yelling “Back! Back!”
Our little handful.
We had just pulled into the Reliable lot late on Thursday night and were plugging in before heading over to Dad’s for a quick hug. I’m not even sure how it happened; I just remember seeing Gypsy catapulting out the door like a cannonball. She didn’t go far, but each time I approached her she went further, looking back at me like a recalcitrant child. Maybe she remembered this place. Or was enthralled with the grassy basin behind the lot. But this time, there was no coaxing her back.
The RV lot is on the corner of a freeway and thoroughfare. I wasn’t sure which was at the top of the embankment Gypsy shot up, but when I saw her leap over the guardrail and disappear, I screamed. How could we save this little kitten, keep her safe and alive all this time, only to come full circle and lose her here where we found her? Kate climbed the embankment first. It edged the road, thank God, not the freeway. And Gypsy was hunkered down on the shoulder as if she’d just realized she might be in over her head. She let Kate scoop her up and carry her in a vise-grip back to Bessie.
It took some time for us all to recover. I just pray to the great whatever that we can get this cat back to Oregon safely.
Picnic at Benton Springs
One pretty day we packed a picnic, loaded up the pets, and took Dad out to Benton Springs State Park. We hadn’t been here before, but Dad had camped there with his Boy Scout troop as a child. And we suspect this is where Gypsy was born, since the RV she’d been found in was owned by someone who’d been a host here.
Spring gauging tower.
We stopped at the campground first thing and asked if there was a host in a Monaco coach who’d been here last year. I explained about the kitten rescue, pointing at Gypsy who was peering out the back window. No Monaco coach yet, but I left a message in case one showed up later in the summer, letting the owner know Gypsy’s fate.
This is a beautiful park, built around a spring-fed pool and river. There’s a hatchery, and the spring is stocked, so fishing is the main activity there. But there are also beautiful grounds, cabins, playground, picnic areas, and even a lodge. We set up our picnic by the side of the river, where we could watch people fly fishing. It would have been a perfect place to spend the afternoon, if it hadn’t been for the “midges” swarming our faces in between breezes. So we had our lunch, I took the pets for a short walk along the river, and we took refuge from the blasted insects in the car.
Branson Trip
Downtown Branson.
I’ve heard Branson, Missouri described as a family-oriented Las Vegas, minus the gambling and show girls. Plus high-profile country music shows. Dad hadn’t been there in years, so we decided to drive down and check it out.
Maybe we missed a main drag somewhere, but we didn’t find much here. Kind of a cute historic downtown with some antique shops and Dick’s Five and Dime, which seems to be the main attraction for all the elderly Midwestern tourists. It was kind of interesting, but uncomfortably crowded. We had lunch in a downtown café, took the free trolley ride around town, and called it a day.
More Family
Out for ice cream.
Midway through our stay, my sister and brother-in-law arrived for a few days. It was nice to be there together with Dad, and I know he enjoyed watching Beth and me giggle together like we did as kids. Beth and I took the opportunity to “interview” Dad on video, capturing some of his favorite childhood stories.
One day we took Steak ‘n Shake takeout (a traditional favorite) to Sequiota Park and spent most of the afternoon watching kids on the playground and geese in the pond. The weather was perfect and it was just nice to hang out together. This had been a favorite park of Dad’s when he was a kid, and he and his brothers loved exploring the caves that are now closed to the public.
And More Family
Our last night in town, my cousin Murray invited everyone in the family out to their place for dinner. Her husband barbecued a heaping platter of chicken, using our grandfather’s recipe. And about 20 of my relatives came together. The Meyers are Catholic, so there are a lot of us, and most of them stayed in Springfield. It was great to see so many of them in one place, and after our third visit in a year, I really feel like I’m getting to know them again.
Not Quite Goodbye
Sad Annie.
My Dad’s neighbor and good friend, Sharon, is in a play in Tulsa. She plays the grandmother in Billy Elliot, and her grandson has the lead. Beth and I both managed to coordinate our visits and exit routes so we could make it to the show. On Saturday, Beth left with us in Bessie to head to Tulsa, stopping for a “girls overnight” along the way. Her husband, Don, headed to Arkansas to hike the highest peak (a new goal of his) and camp on his own for the night. On Sunday, Dad would catch a ride to Tulsa and meet us at the show. Don would meet Beth afterwards and they’d head back to Texas, we’d be on our way west, and Dad would catch a ride home. So our goodbyes in Springfield were tearless ones, except for Dad’s dog Annie, who was already sulking.