SUMMER VACATIONS

        In 1968 mom and dad began looking for land to purchase in Pennsylvania and New York.  

They both grew up in Corning, Steuben County, New York.  Dad's mom and dad were from Lycoming County, Pennsylvania.  Mom's parents were from Steuben County, New York.  

Both were familiar with the areas in Pennsylvania and New York that would offer a nice plot of land to perhaps one day build a house and retire. 

On April 15, 1969 three months before John was born, they found property for sale on land in Wellsboro, Tioga County, Pennsylvania. This was farm land owned by James and Dora Gilliland. 

The Gilliland’s had farmed their land for over 45 years. They had one daughter, Jeanne.  Jeanne had gotten married in 1967 and moved to her new husband’s farm to raise her new family.  

Jim and Dora decided to sell part of their land and retire from farming so much of the land.  They wanted to spend time with their daughter and her new family.

          After meeting the Gilliland’s and seeing the land they were selling, they felt that these 68 acres of land were just the place for them.  

After accepting the price of $4000 for the land, dad and mom bought what would become our families’ camp vacations for many of our summers.

Barely two months later on June 7, 1969 (one month before John was born), dad and mom loaded up their white Ford Country Sedan Station Wagon with tents, a few sleeping bags, long pants, shorts, sweatshirts, bathing suits; tools to cut down bushes, branches, and trees; and five children all under 10 years of age and started the first of many yearly summer vacations. 

Riding in the station wagon, we left Delaware going north through Pennsylvania. Passing Harrisburg, we drove along on the two-lane Route 15, over the Nickle Bridge, along the Susquehanna River, through Williamsport, then finally getting off the road onto Route 660.  By this time, the signs for Wellsboro were a welcome sight (especially for mom and dad, I'm sure).

We all knew when we were close when we saw the Howl-A-Day Dog Care building.  There we knew we would take a left-hand turn.  The final leg of our drive was up a dirty, dusty road to the bottom of our unpaved path.  

Our “Hill” began with a right-hand turn onto an unpaved path, over a gully that was either dry and rocky or muddy and slushy and then up about a mile of an even less paved path that went straight up to the top of our mountain.

After pulling onto the path and before our trek up to the Hill, dad would stop the car and everyone would get out.  The first thing we had to do was to check the water pump at the base of the hill.  

We would pump the handle to be sure that water was still running through the well below.  

The first few pumps would be dirty and rusty.  After much work pumping the handle for the clean fresh water, we would fill up the first of many, two-gallon plastic jugs we brought with us, to get us through that day.  

Every day thereafter we would have to get water pumped into these containers to last at least one day of camping. Sometimes my brothers, and any cousins that were visiting, would try to see who could run faster, up the hill, carrying a jug or two of water.  

I can’t say I remember anyone actually making it the whole way without stopping, but I believe someone certainly must have.

Loading back into the car (or if we wanted to walk, we could), dad would drive about a mile up the rocky, dusty, dirty one lane path that took us up the side of the hill to where we would have our campsite for the next week (or two).

If Mr. Gilliland knew the weeks we were coming to camp, he would drive his tractor up the road a day or two before we arrived. This made traveling up a little easier, but there were still plenty of rough spots with the stones and tree branches sticking out making the ride very slow.

Each year however, the road became easier to navigate.  We were also thankful to Mr. Gilliland for occasionally driving his tracker up the hill a few times when we weren’t there and to check on the property.

When we got to the top of the hill, the driving became easier.  For about another 100 yards or so, it was mostly grass and hay with trees surrounding the lane.  At the “top,” there was a clearing.  This open area was used for parking cars and playing games.  

We would eventually make a smooth plot for a ball field on this part of the hill.  Kickball and baseball were favorite sports for everyone.

          We would use a “swisher” to clear a path from this open plot of land to an area in the woods where we would make our campsite for years to come.  

          The area we chose for our campsite had to be cleared out of small trees, weeds and rocks.  There were chores that had to be completed each year that were important to get done before nightfall.  Most important was setting up the tents.

          The first tent that went up was a gold-colored one that had three “rooms”, sections actually, that we used for sleeping and storing our clothes. 

          The second tent was a screened one which we put a long table in that would be used for eating meals and card playing on the rainy days; storage of items that must stay dry; and for those days the bugs were horrendous or my grandparents visited.      

          The third tent one was a green pup-up tent which my brothers used for sleeping or just hanging out when our cousins came to visit.

          We would then have to build a big ring of stones and for our campfires.  Finding the right tree stump was an important process.  

          Dad would take Jimmy, Danny, Charlie, and Tommy into the woods to find a large tree stump that was old enough to burn and could be brought to the campfire site.

          They would bring the tree stump back in sections and re-build it inside the ring of stones. This would be the place for our nightly campfires.  

          They also had to get enough wood chopped down to have for burning in the campfire.  Using the chainsaw was always fun for my brothers.  Mom said that when dad took my brothers out to get the wood, he would tell them stories along the way.  These stories had “endings not to miss” and this would keep my brothers motivated and close by so he wouldn’t lose them.  They really wanted to listen because his stories were always memorable.

          Mom and I would go out looking for “sqaw”wood.  The “sqaw”wood was smaller dead branches we used to make lighting the fires easier.  We pulled dead branches out of the trees, bring them back to the campsite, break them into smaller pieces, and stack these pieces so we could use them to start the campfire and our cooking fire.

          Our cooking fire was created by digging a shallow pit and surrounding it with stones.  Then two metal grills are placed over the top.  This would be where we would cook all our meals.  Just in front of this area we put down logs that we would sit on to eat our meals.

          Then we had to set up an area for food prep and dish cleanup.  We made a wood table by lashing together thick pieces of logs with rope and laying a flat piece of lumber over the top. 

          Mom says she learned all her “skills” from being in Pioneer Girls Camp in Corning when she was younger.  She had so many tricks up her sleeves, and to this day I am still amazed at what I learned and which “tricks” I still use still.

          I especially remember that if you smear the outside bottom of the cooking pans with Ivory Dish soap before placing them over the fire, the cleanup would be much easier.

          The most important job, however, was to dig a latrine. This was done by “swishing” another path far away from the campsite.  A deep hole was dug and logs put in a ring around the hole to sit on.  

          After the second year, we brought a real toilet seat to use instead of the logs.  A real upgrade!  The path got longer and the hole deeper every year.   

          That first year of camping we got 1000 fir trees free from the state of PA.  The only catch was that we had to promise to plant them all.  Well, we did!  We planted all 1000 fir trees along the path that went up to the camp and dubbed the property the Maneval Tree Farm.

          A day usually started with the smell of coffee and bacon.  My mom would have the fire started in the cooking fire pit, and by the time we all got up, there was a large breakfast cooking. After a quick run down the lane to go to the bathroom, we could all enjoy a delicious big, hot breakfast.

          Breakfasts could be anything from pancakes, French toast, bacon and eggs to the occasional Doughboys.  Orange juice and milk were always on hand too.  On the cooler mornings, mom would sometimes make hot chocolate.

    After breakfast and clean up, we had a number of places to go and things we could do. 

          Some of the days may have included hiking around the land.  Going through the many birch and pine trees, we would find the best walking sticks, white birch bark for creating anything, and smooth rocks to save for skimming at Hills Creek State Park.  We always put a piece of hay or fox tail grass in our mouth to chew on because that’s what the farmers did.

    One year dad bought a .22 caliber gun.  He would take anyone that wanted to go down to an open field near the Gilliland’s farm and try to shoot ground hogs when they popped up in the grass. I don’t know if they hit any since I don’t remember any brought back to camp.

          Sometimes we would walk down to the Gilliland’s farm to watch them bail the hay, sit on the tractors, or help milk the cows.  They had two big pigs they named Rosie and Arnold who rutted around in a fenced-in pigsty outside the barn.  We could reach over and pretend to pet them.  I really liked visiting Mrs. Gilliland in her house.  She would always have a homemade treat for us if we helped on the farm.

          Another day might be a trip to The Dump. This was always an experience.  The stuff we would find!  One man’s trash is another man’s treasure took on a whole new meaning for us.

          One year, I think it was Charlie who buried a small metal box he found and had filled it with random pieces of glass and plastic toys.  He forgot about it when we left that year but he found it years later on a visit with his own son.

          Going to Hills Creek State Park was another fun day trip. The Park had a huge lake that was surrounded by a sandy play area.  We would run down the huge hill into the sand then right on into the water.

          Thinking back, I imagine this was mom's way of getting us a little bit cleaner.  The Park’s restrooms had toilets and showers for rinsing off after playing all day in the sand and lake water.

          One year Charlie tried to make an outdoor shower at our campsite. He set up tall branches in a circle and somehow tied plastic tarps around.  Then water had to be poured over the person behind the tarp.  That only lasted that one year.  

          Getting enough water poured over top to rinse a person was a little bit too much especially since the water had to be at least warm not freezing cold.  Not to mention getting the water.  This required many extra trips down the hill to the pump to keep our water supply on hand.

          The Town of Wellsboro had many fun and interesting places to visit. Main Street was a great place to just walk up and down the sidewalk. There was a town hall at one end with fountain for pennies to be thrown in and the local diner at the other end.  There were plenty of businesses in the old homes that lined the road in between. 

          There was Cuda’s Deli which was an awesome place to get comic books, baseball cards, candy and magazines.  ACME grocery store was THE place to get our food. We always needed bread, milk, orange juice and butter.  

          There was one theater to see movies too. My memory of the movies offered is of course the one I was too young to go see at the time; American Graffiti.

          One weekly trip would always include a stop at the laundry mat.  Lots of quarters were needed and folding of clothes before we left was a must. This was also a way to see what type of clothes we probably forgot or needed anew.  

          Then a trip to a local garage sale or thrift store was just the thing to get very interesting clothes and other fun toys. 

          By this time, we had added one more family member.  Mary was born in 1975. One of the best items we found at a garage sale was a pair of Levi Jeans size 2 for Mary.  We never realized that Levi’s made such small jeans.

          Campfires at night were a must unless it was pouring rain.  Using the old tree stump found during the day and plenty of the “skwa-wood” a fire was lit.  

          We would eat a big dinner then we would all sit around the bonfire.  We each were sure to have a good branch with the end whittled to a point set aside for roasting the marshmallows to make s’mores.  

          Banana boats were a real special treat too.  Directions: split a banana open and put chocolate pieces in middle, wrap in foil, put on fire to heat to melt chocolate.  No very hard but really yummy.

          When everyone was done with roasting marshmallows, we would sing silly songs for a while.  Afterwards Dad would tell ghost stories or “Tom Swifties” for us to enjoy.  

          Some days we just hung out at the campsite.  Reading, playing cards, and playing games, walking through the woods.

          We would listen to a transistor radio that was able to pick up the local Wellsboro radio station, WNBT.  The signal was occasionally interrupted by the weather, but we could still hear it as it would play the top 40 music.  There was also “Chat with Nat” and “Soldiers and Sailors Hospital Report” that came through just fine.

          Listening to WNBT one night, we heard the DJ talk about a “Great Horn Blast” in the town of Wellsboro.  “Come to Wellsboro and Blast your Car’s Horn” the DJ announced.  

          I still don’t know what we were going to blast for, but when we got there, the town was pretty empty.  No horns blasting, so we went to Cuda’s Deli for comic books and snacks and left tooting our car horn.  I won’t even mention the “Chinese Fire Drill” episode the radio station called for. 

          Eventually dad sold the Ford Station Wagon and bought a Dodge Caravan and Green Jeep (aka The Greep) to make the trip to the Hill.  

          The “Greep” was the car we all learned to drive with.  The tailgate would be put down and at least three could ride on it while the driver would go “slow” up and down the hill. 

          The last night’s campfire always included a “Camper of the Year Award”. Dad would make a certificate of some sorts to give to the camper of his choice. The one we most remember was the “Jane of the Jungle Award” given to our cousin Kathy.

          When the camp week was over, everything had to be packed up and put away.  This was always a sad time, as we had just gotten used to all the free-time we each had enjoyed in our own way.

          Reading over the emails from everyone, I see how much these trips were probably a lot different from other family’s summer vacations.  How much we learned from living outside and having to work together.  

          Besides, how many parents dared to take seven children to a mountain in rural Pennsylvania for one or two weeks in the summer? 

          There was no running water, stove, oven, dishwasher, shower, beds or lights. There were snakes, rain storms (“don’t touch the side of the tent”), cuts and bruises, and animals late at night.  

          However, most of all, this was a family that got along while not realizing they were learning plenty of life-long lessons and making plenty of memories to share with our children.