The Vacation That Changed my Life

THE VACATION THAT CHANGED MY LIFE
AUGUST 1986
BY CHARLES HOCKADAY


         I had finally reached my wit's end. I could take no more. For eight long months I had worked two full time jobs to make ends meet. The combination of lack of sleep and lack of fun had taken its toll on my mental health. One day after several nerve wracking experiences at work I decided that I had to take a vacation or end up in the psyche ward of the local hospital. I chose the cool quiet mountains of Tennessee, hoping for some inner peace and tranquility.
         I returned home that night and informed my two roommates of my decision. My roommate Keith said that he too was overworked and needed some rest and rejuvenation. His girlfriend could not go because of work, so she agreed to babysit the cat while we were gone. Luckily Keith had friends who lived in Johnson City, Tennessee. He called them and they said they would be happy to accomodate us for a few days.
         The final days before our departure were spent checking out the mechanical conditon of my beloved 1979 Ford Mustang. I spent nearly four hundred dollars having repair work done on my aging pony. The week before leaving I mailed off the final payment on the Mustang. I felt so relieved to have my car finally paid off. Four long years of flipping burgers and slinging pizzas had bought and paid for my beautiful burgundy mustang. Days before the trip I put four new tires and new gold rims on the car. As the local kids would say, "She was a sweet ride!"
         The only thing left to do was wash, wax and vacuum and I would be all set. As I washed and waxed the car I began to feel very sentimental. Soon I became overwhelmed with all the wonderful memories that were associated with the car. I could still remember the first day I saw my dream car. It was parked under the awning at Pleasant's Used Car Lot. Everyday as I drove home from work in mom's 1972 white Ford station wagon I would drool at the sight of the shiny burgundy Mustang. The car seemed out of place among all the huge Impalas and Cadillacs lining the lot. I could only dream of one day owning it.
         Eventually, after much begging and pleading, mom agreed to take a look at the car. By some strange stroke of good luck, the price was very reasonable. Within days I was driving my dream car.
         As I continued buffing and waxing the hood, more memories filled my head. I was soon back in high school going to the Lionel Ritchie concert with my closet friend Debbie. I stupidly thought it was a date, but she thought otherwise. She was only interested in friendship. I began to laugh as I remembered the time we got soaking wet at the State Fair riding roller coasters in the pouring rain. We had such crazy times working on the prom, coloring each other from head to toe with water color paint. My laughter soon turned to tears as I remembered the Christmas she left for a whole month to go to Pennsylvania and I feared she would not return. But oh how happy I was when she did return! Sadly my happiness was shortlived. She soon began dating a friend of mine and I was filled with jealousy. She spent more and more time with him, and less with me. I tried to tell myself I hated her, yet deep in my heart I still loved her deeply.
         "Enough with these memories!" I shouted, throwing down the cloth I was using to buff the car. "I am 20 year's old and have a new life! I must take a vacation and make new memories and forget all the old ones."
         The following day Keith and I headed down the interstate, hoping to leave behind all the stress of work and create some wonderful new memories. If I had only known what was in store for me!
         The trip was very enjoyable. The scenery and loud rock music raised our spirits. We sang "Highway to Hell" and various other loud rock songs. Hours passed and before we knew it the road began twisting and ears began popping as we winded slowly up the mountain roads. Our first stop was in Linville Falls, NC, where we soaked our tired feet in the cool rushing waters. After a brief lunch of greasy whoppers at the local Burger King, we set out for our first destination of Johnson City Tennessee.
         The mountain scenery was very interesting; so interesting that we forgot where we were going and became hopelessly lost. We ended up in a little town that resembled a decaying "Mayberry." In desperation we stopped at Billy Bob's Exxon and asked for directions. The seedy owner could barely even tell us how to get around the corner, much less give directions to Johnson City Tennessee!  As a last resort we did what all good tourists do, we bought a map.
         In no time at all we were lost again, but at least we had a map to confirm this. Keith decided to call his friends to ask for directions. We first had to find a phone booth. This was extremely difficult as the town appeared to be deserted and abandoned. Luckily a local police officer directed us to the only pay phone in town. It was conveniently located beside an aging Hardee's. I could not seem to escape from Hardee's.
         I decided to check out the restrooms while Keith checked out the phone booth. When I returned Keith told me that we were only 20 minutes away from their house. I rejoiced as I lit a fresh Salem Light. I could not wait to finally relax in the mountain cabin and have a cold beer.
         Keith's friend decided to send his father out to retrieve us. He told us to stay put at Hardee's. The road to his house was very curvy and he did not want us to get lost again. A few minutes later a ragged station wagon with a busted windshield pulled up. Yelling out of the dirty window, he told us to follow him. We jumped into the Mustang and began the twenty minute commute. It was quite difficult, as the driver of the ragged station wagon was flying around the curves on two wheels. Somehow we survived the trip and turned into the driveway. I expected to see a large mountain cabin with stone fireplaces, hardwood floors and sliding glass doors overlooking a pristine mountain view. Boy, was I in for a shock!!
         As we pulled into the driveway I stared at the tiny, decaying four room shack where Keith's friends lived. I knew then and there that this was to be no ordinary vacation. I was too tired to be picky. The front door was left wide open and unlocked. I wondered why they had left it this way. When I went inside I knew why. There was nothing valuable to steal! Keith's friend Gail was at work so her husband told us to go inside and make ourselves comfortable. I didn't argue for I was totally drained and beginning to feel a cold coming on. I took a long hot shower, swallowed four tylenols and passed out on the worn lumpy sofa.
         Several hours later I was awakened by voices. I looked up and Keith's friend Gail had arrived home from work. She had long straight hair, no makeup, and bags under her eyes: probably from too many late night drinking parties. She introduced herself and offered me a beer, which I gladly accepted. She was friendly and full of laughter and in no time at all we were all quite drunk. Around 2pm she led me to my room. The room was tiny and contained one king sized waterbed and nothing else. "Oh by the way," she said, "the heater on the waterbed broke last year so you will need some blankets."
She handed me about 10 quilts and I crawled into the cold sloshing bed and drifted off to sleep.
         I somehow survived until the next morning. I awoke with a headache, backache, sore throat and mild fever. My vacation was going just terrific! I spent the rest of the day lying on the sofa watching one of three channels on the TV and feeling miserable.
         The next few days were spent touring the run down town of Johnson City. My cold only got worse. Finally after three miserable days, I began to recover. I felt there was some hope of salvaging my precious vacation. We quickly packed our bags, said our goodbyes, and with renewed excitement we headed for Gatlinburg Tennessee.
         I felt so relieved to be leaving the poverty stricken town of Johnson City and going to the exciting town of Gatlinburg. As bad as Johnson City was any other town would be an improvement.
         As we were riding I noticed my gas gauge was reaching empty, so I stopped at a small service station to fill the tank. Keith and I got a couple of  Mountain Dews and then headed down the winding highway towards Gatlinburg. The car ran so smoothly and the new tires seemed to hug the road. Without noticing it, I was going faster and faster. Suddenly, out of nowhere, I was going around a hairpin curve doing 60 MPH. Stupidly, I hit the brakes which sent the car into a spin. Before I could straighten the wheel, my car was rolling down the cliff, through a barbed wire fence, and landing in a pasture. We were just short of running into a cow. For several minutes Keith and I just sat there in shock, not utterring a word. Then Keith broke the silence by saying, "cut off the windshield wipers."
         "What a strange request,"  I thought as I looked at my destroyed car. As I crawled out of the car I felt nothing. There was no pain, no hurt, no fear. I was numb as if in a coma. I somehow managed to wander to a local house and make a phone call to the police, then the insurance company and later to my parents. I walked back down the hill to my car and it suddenly  hit me. My car was totalled! My precious Mustang was gone forever! Yet it was much more than just a car: I felt as if a part of my life was gone also.
         When we arrived at the garage where the wrecker dragged my car, Keith called his friends in Johnson City. I felt a bit ashamed for looking down on them because of their poverty. They were good people at heart, although they appeared rough on the outside.
         The day after the wreck I decided to spend my remaining vacation money drowning my sorrows. I went to every bar in town and drank every form of alcohol that I could find. Finally, after getting thrown out of the last bar at closing time and waking up face down in a ditch, keith decided it was time to take me home. Keith and his friend walked me to the car and poured me into the back of the rusty station wagon.
         Upon arriving at the cabin, I asked Keith to leave me alone on the porch. I needed some time alone. As I sat there I broke down. Tears began to flood my eyes as I thought of how I would never see my beloved Mustang again. It was more than the car I was crying for. I cried for all the good memories that were associated with the car. I cried for the girl that broke my heart and for all the friends that had betrayed me.But mostly I cried because I was afraid of growing up. In a split second all my memories and my childhood had rolled down a mountainside and been destroyed.
         Keith came out and tried to calm me down, but it did little good. This was something I had to solve on my own. Maybe this was God's way of showing me that I must forget the past and forget all the hurt and pain and look to the future.
I looked out over the mountain sky and noticed all the twinkling stars shining so brightly and I began to feel at peace.
         The next day we rented a car and returned home to Rocky Mount. As we wound down the roads through the mountains, things looked different. Even though I was sad I felt a strange sense of relief. It was as if the wreck had been meant to be. I began to feel that fate decided for me to go over that mountain side so that I could finally let go of the past and move on with the future.
         As I looked at the passing scenery, the mountains looked a bit taller, the sun shone brighter and the trees looked greener. I knew from then on my life would be better.