Jessica and her family (Brent, Mickey, Ava) have been hugely supportive during all my treatments. My nieces are dear to me. I am uncle Scooby to my little Mickey. The problem is Jessica tends to confuse the facts as she remembers things (she's blond and 3 years younger). It's bad enough on recent things, but bordering on ridiculous for things that happened more then 5 years ago.
She passed along this story, which is a good one and I wanted to share. It will be necessary for me to offer editorial comments though so that the true story is conveyed. I included the story as she wrote it, but added my comments in bold, italics.
From Jessica:
I love that your sharing family stories, but I feel like you’re giving the director’s cut. (Jon: Here we go...) Perhaps little sis needs to provide some perspective? I’ll have lots of stories to share, but here’s one to start. I know mom’s saving stuff like this for a book, so I’ll write it in that way.
There’s one memory with you that I will NEVER forget. It is the time we all hiked Harney Peak. I bet I wasn’t more than 11 or 12 and like every summer around that time, we were in the Black Hills for a family reunion. Jon and Curt, our distant cousin who was Jon’s age, had been in the Hills for an FFA camp so Curt was with us. (Jon: It was a "FFA Leadership" camp. Even at a young age they knew we were great leaders... which has bearing on the rest of this story.)
Mom, Dad and the Aunts and Uncles decided that would be a good year for us to climb Harney Peak. I don’t know what possessed them to let teenage boys head off ahead of the group. I’m guessing they thought they’d stay on the path. I’m also guessing that when I’m a parent of teenagers, I’ll understand better the rationale that makes you more than willing to let your teenagers get out of your hair for a bit. (Jon: Note the tone here. The slight bitterness; the contempt. Truth is we were quite trustworthy and responsible young men which is evidenced by our parents letting us take the lead on our own. Furthermore, Curt, Jeremy and I had hiked Harney peak before at other church camps.)
I remember the hike up being long, hot and tiring. The view from the top was nice and the watchtower was really neat, but I’d probably appreciate it more now than I did then. “Ooh look, trees! And you can see for miles!” Well guess what, I was from the prairie. You could see for miles and miles right out my window. (Jon: Note the tone again. The lack of wonder in the world God has created for us. I have probably been up Harney peak 3-4 times. It's well worth it.)
When the rest of the family finally reached the top, the boys were waiting for us and bragging (Jon: We were proud of our achievement.) about how fast they were able to get up the mountain. I thought, if they can get me down this hill that fast, I’m in! We all begged our parents to let us go back down the mountain with Jon and Curt. (Jon: Note, we didn't ask them to tag along on the return journey. They elected to join us)
Our group of about 6 or 7 kids (probably about 9-16 years old) headed off down Harney Peak under the leadership of a few teenage boys. Again I wonder why our parents allowed this, but looking back, I’m sure our parents hike up was even less enjoyable than mine. After all, they were hauling complaining kids after them. Maybe they thought this would be a life lesson for us. My parents loved those. (Jon: Having not been part of their hike up, I was never aware of this. I understand now why our parents insisted the little kids go on ahead with us trustworthy boys)
The guys were brilliant enough to know a short cut that would save us lots of walking and time. (Jon: We never promised a shorter trip, our desire was to take a lesser traveled path to see something different. To have an adventure) As a kid, I lacked the perspective I have now that would make anyone reading this think that was a terrible idea. Of course we got lost (Jon: No we didn't), probably instantly although I don’t think the guys admitted it to us younger kids until quite a while later. I’m sure we were never very far from the path or civilization, but in my childhood memory, we were miles and miles from anyone. (Jon: At least she admits here her childhood memory is flawed. By her own words here she admits her perspective is flawed\inaccurate. Here is the real story. Our intent was certainly that this other path was a shortcut. We tracked landmarks along the way. At one point the path we were on did disappear. We searched for another path for a bit, finding none, we retraced our steps using the landmarks we had observed. Ex: A strange set of fallen trees, a unique rock formation and so on. Now at this point, the uninvited little ones were well into their whining as Jessica noted in her comments. We ended up back where our trail started, but it put us behind our parents.)
Our parents had reached the bottom of Harney Peak and we were nowhere in site. As I age, I become more and more like my Mom. I can imagine that she was probably thinking through all sorts of scenarios in her head as she waited. “I hope they’re alright. Just exactly how long do we wait before notifying someone that the kids are missing. Do I kill them or hug them when I finally see them?” (Jon: Jessica has this part correct. Our parents were expecting us to get there before them. But I am sure, they also thought "Jon and Curt are there. Everyone will be fine. However, Mom and Dad never exhibited the homicidal "Do I kill them?" tendencies that Jessica just admitted she has.)
Meanwhile back on the mountain, things were deteriorating fast. Our pack of children was cranky, exhausted and hungry. A few of the younger cousins didn’t want to keep walking. I remember the look on Jon’s face. It was a look of, “Are you kidding me?” Teenage boys are not known for their patience. Jon (and Curt, who was much stronger then skinny me) picked up the younger cousin and gave him a piggy back ride in order for us all to keep moving. I often wonder if anyone higher up the mountain looked down and saw us kids wandering around the hillside. (Jon: Also, knowing our parents would be worried and since we were slowed down by the little ones, we sent someone ahead. I think it was Jeremy, but I am not sure. to let everyone know we were ok.)
We finally wandered our way back into the parking lot where the parents were waiting a few hours overdue. (Jon: Major exaggeration here 45 min tops when the person who ran ahead arrived. The rest of us took a bit longer having to carry everyone down the mountain.) I can’t really remember the reaction from the parents. I am betting Jon does. (Jon: They were relieved. No one got in trouble, and I think they were also happy they didn't have to deal with the whiny little ones the whole time. After all they got to enjoy beautiful Sylvan lake (pictured) in the absence of Jessica and her cranky pack of little cousins. Remember... her words not mine) I’m sure they weren’t happy, but all I can remember was relief. I think there’s a picture somewhere of all of us kids sprawled out on the ground, absolutely exhausted.
The trips to the hills were a regular thing for many years after that. I don’t recall anyone suggesting that we revisit Harney Peak again. (Jon: There has been plenty of hiking through different parts of the hills since then. In fact, we'd all like to have returned to Harney Peak, but due to Jessica being against it, and her higher standing in the family, we have not.)
Jon: I am glad Jessica shared this story. She often tells this one in this way, though it occasionally get more dramatic. It's one of the few where she can spin it in an effort to make me look less awesome then I am. At least now it is out there, with the proper details so everyone can understand how it really went down. She has told it so many times I bet she even has Mom and Dad remembering it more like the way she tells it. I accept my position in the family. I know my parents and even my sister loves me, but we all get along so well because we are totally clear as to the pecking order. Consider: I had to have 4 kids (i.e 4 grandkids for Mom and Dad) just to increase my standing for a little bit. And that barely got me above Dad's cats.
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