Branson, Missouri?  Sure, I know Branson.  My parents took me there on vacation when I was a kid.  It was 1948, 49 & 50.  Sure, I know Branson.

The downtown area was one block long.  It was just on one side of the street, because there was a miniature golf course on the other side of the street.  What was really neat was that there were large speakers on the two end buildings and they broadcasted the St. Louis Cardinal baseball games.  So you could be putting on the putt-putt course and listening to Harry Carey and Gabby Street.  “Holy Cow, Gabby!”

It’s all gone – the putt-putt course and, of course, Harry and Gabby.  The Sammy Lane Resort where we stayed has vanished.  They used to drain the pool every Monday and then fill it with ice cold spring water.  You couldn’t get in the pool until Wednesday.  I’m sure that today there are health codes that prohibit water that cold.

Well, the woman at the Visitor’s Center that said I didn’t know Branson was correct.  Nothing looked familiar.  I had suggested Branson for our family reunion because it was centrally located.  Everybody had to drive forever to get there!

Our three children, son-in-law and four grandchildren joined us.  Two other grandchildren were tied up with college summer courses.  What a different world we now live in.  First, we found the place we stayed at on line.  You say “Duh,” but it was a first for us.  It was a big house in a gated community that slept 16.  So the 10 of us did well.  Next, the house had to have Wi-Fi.  Say what?  I don’t understand, but fortunately the house did have Wi-Fi and the kids and grandkids were busy on their computers and smart phones.  Cowboys and indians have been captured by Angry Birds.

We were  there over the 4th of July, so my son, Paul and grandson, Jack, ran in Branson’s Firecracker 5000.  I held the camera.  Jack is not quite 12 years old and seemed to finish 1st or 2nd among kids his size.  When the results were posed, he finished 8th in his group.  It turned out that his group was ages 14 and under.  And some of the 14 year olds were bigger than most adults.  This was a good life lesson for Jack.  What lesson you ask?  That life is not always fair.  Paul and Jack both had good times for them and Paul finished third in his age  group (he didn’t have to compete with those 14 year olds).  I finished first in the grandpa bragging competition.

Silver Dollar City was right outside our gate.  Most of the clan enjoyed the ruckus – many for two days.  That is where the Flying Wallendas were performing; at least the ones who are still around.  I’ll bet they have trouble getting life insurance.  “And what do you do for a living Mr. Wallenda?”  “Did you say, no net?”

Paul, Terry and I played golf on the Ledgestone Country Club course.  I may have been only 12 when I was last in the Ozarks, but it didn’t take long to remember that nothing is flat.  Well, Legdestone is in the Ozarks.  Ergo, the damn course was hilly!  We had the option of using golf carts or mountain goats.  The goats were cheaper, but they didn’t come with GPS.  The course was beautiful and exciting and a good time was (eventually) had by all.

Paul and I spent two hours looking for a Super WalMart that was 15 minutes from our house.  My MapQuest had sent me in the wrong direction and Paul’s TomTom wasn’t sending up the right smoke signals.  Being two macho male guys, we refused to ask for directions.  The only good thing that MapQuest did was provide me with was a phone number.  I must not have been the first who couldn’t find them.  The little gal on the phone gave me great directions.  After we found it, we realized it was visible from the main drag.  Not our brightest hour.

The reunion served its purpose.  It got the family together.  When families are spread out over many far reaching states, it’s a little bit of a struggle to all of a sudden becoming one again – probably impossible.  When the clock struck twelve and the reunion was over, we all eagerly headed home to return to our normal lives.  But, as time passes, the fond memories will be there.

Writted by PJ Rice on www.ricequips.com