Memories from Spring Long Ago
Growing up in LA (Lower Alpha), our Springs at the Porter household centered around the annual Spring Break camping trip. We would load up the fishing gear, and cooking supplies, and set off to the banks of Cherokee Lake and Mr. Q.M. Trent’s place on Slate Hill Rd. There Dad would have the 1 Ton Tire Truck parked so we could sleep in the back of the enclosed truck. We set up camp complete with a fire and cooking station where Mr. Harold Hopkins would fry up some of the best ‘taters and onions’ you ever put in your mouth, not to mention the fish we caught on our trotlines set out in the hollow at Slate Hill. We took our close friends “snipe hunting”, told ghost stories centered around the flooded cemetery close by, and really didn’t get much sleep. On one occasion the night air had gotten cold so I decided a little heat from the Coleman lantern would be nice at about 2 am. The door was pulled nearly down and my brothers Clint and Chad, with our cousin Mark Morrow, close friends Barry Warren and Ernie Burzell along with myself were all in the back of the ton truck. A few nice pumps on the old Coleman lantern and a simple strike of the match and……. suddenly a blast of fire went from the end of that truck to the other. I frantically slid the roll-up door upwards and tossed the lantern out into the darkness. Little brother Clint and Cousin Mark were up top in the cab-over portion where all the nice fumes had congregated when the fire broke out. After catching our composure and seeing none of us were seriously hurt beyond singed eyebrows, the only comment made was from Clint. “I’ve never seen what Hell must be like ’till tonight!” was the comment from a most memorable Spring Break.
