An Essay by Mary Susanne Hebden
July 20, 2012
The Cheaha of 1983 was a welcome retreat for me. My husband died of pancreatic cancer at the age of 40 that spring. My children and I came to the first big family reunion, on my mother’s side, and we were renewed in body and spirit by the loving kindness of our kindred and the natural beauty surrounding Bald Rock Lodge. At the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains, containing the highest point in Alabama, it was a wonderful place to get away from the duties, responsibilities and perhaps the immediacy of life. Our memories will remain.
Since the close and refurbishing of Cheaha State Park’s Bald Rock Lodge, we have visited several different places and not one has come close to the feel of Bald Rock Lodge as it stands in our memory. Our family reunion trips into Tennessee gave us the state parks of Standing Stone and Cedars of Lebanon. They did not hold a candle to our beloved Cheaha. Our Georgia experience at John Tanner State Park could not replace Cheaha, especially in an Olympic year. I remember every reunion and of course the Cheaha years were the best. Just forget about the lack of air conditioning the wet lodge in the early years and the soggy basement floors in the wet years or the chilly days when the lodge remained shrouded in the clouds. Our memories remain unclouded yet.
Finally, the great year arrived when we were allowed to return, only, Cheaha was not the Cheaha of our memory. That Cheaha is gone forever. The Bald Rock Lodge of today would seem an ideal place for corporate and government groups to plan and play. The costly furnishings and fixings were paid for by taxpayers and will be maintained by the cost increases for their use. Excellent for corporate and governmental retreats, with Internet connections and wide-screen television; it is no longer family or church group friendly. Reunions there were no more, our memories would have to do.
Where can we go to have plenty of room to play inside-and-out? Where there are air-conditioned rooms with comfortable beds, with room for a cot or two or a baby bed, and a place for coolers, yes, lots of family coolers. We need walks-in-the-woods, critter-crawls, dragon-hunts and places-to-chat and just sit-about. We need lots of good food and places for games too. Well, except for pizza night, I think we have found place for us, yes a place for us (what’s that humming noise in my head). Camp McDowell, I think, will do and after all. Alabama holds the family’s roots. There are new memories to be made.
Another thought in another vein. When we began this adventure in 1983, the stems, the sons and daughters of the grandparents we were honoring, were approximately the ages of the older cousins who are now the parents and grandparents of our family. We are making a generational change of responsibility. Why, my mother wouldn’t even let me make the egg salad, for goodness sake! And now look; it’s my daughter who is in charge of the food. She won’t let me make the potato salad either! The times changed. There is air conditioning, more comfortable rooms and a camp run dining hall. Camp McDowell is a marvelous place, or as a cousin said on our “Eagle Scout leader uncle qualified trek” to the small lodge from the big one, “This place is rich!” Although he was referring to the splendid flora. I think he has spoken well. This is a rich place and it will do. Now, who’s in charge of the “critter crawl”? Let the memories begin!
