I had woken up this morning refreshed and alive. It was the first morning where there was no feeling of stress since last summer because AP Euro is now over. My mom and I decided to go out, so I put together this insane outfit and did my hair and makeup. I felt the need to prove that one can still look pretty after a week of looking like a total mess. We were in the car driving to another local thrift store when I honestly felt so out of place and suddenly irritated. I didn’t want to spend my Saturday in the suburbs. I already hate them, plus it was beautiful out. My idea was to make a spontaneous trip to our cabin with my parents. So, we called up my dad and he agreed. We rushed home to gather everything. I washed off my makeup, threw on a tattered t-shirt, and laced up my sneakers. Then, we were off.

The ride there is pretty, even though some may disagree. The majority of the trip is highway, but once we get into the town, vast fields and meadows pass by my car window. Farmhouses, railroads, and markets also make their way into my memory. My dad really wanted to go to this flea market, so we stopped the car. We wandered over to this old man hosting a tent filled with antiques. Glass vases, old books, trinkets, telephones…..I guess you can call it junk. Sifting through piles of stuff, I found two yearbooks. One was dated at 1941 and the other was dated at 1942. I ended up paying $5 for the 1942 yearbook. It belonged to a girl named Betty Brown. Here are some things that I learned about her through this yearbook:

• She was a Junior and attended DeLand High School in DeLand, Florida.
• She was the president of Latin Club.
• She was the president of Language Club.
• She took a shorthand class with someone by the name of Charlotte N.
• She was a member of the Sigma Pi Gamma club, which had this motto. “Give to the world the best that you have and the best will come back to you”
• She was apparently a nice, pretty, and sweet girl.

I find this yearbook very interesting and sad at the same time. I’m assuming everyone in this book, including Betty, is dead or close to dying. Now, I get to keep their memories safe.

We then drove to our cabin, which was overgrown with weeds and tall grasses. The creek was placid and the birds were very quiet. I decided that I needed some alone time, so I took my camera and ventured into the woods. I followed one of the main paths for a while, passing abandoned cabins along the way. One was named “The Ark”. In one of the windows, the lady had lined up colorful, glass vases. I walked around her cabin and saw that in another window, she lined up metal teapots. Her place was pretty funky too. I want to meet her sometime.

I noticed a path that was less preserved further ahead. Instead of gravel, the floor was covered in grass and the road seemed to lead deep into the woods. I was scared though because right when I was about to go through, a man was whistling this depressing song as he was pacing on his deck. I guess he completed the mood, but it was still creepy. When I was walking, little toads and squirrels kept on jumping out from the brush and the noise of rustling leaves always scared me. The end of the path was blocked by a rusty, metal bar. I climbed underneath it, but then realized I had no idea where I was. Noticing I was back on the main road, I made the executive decision to get lost again because I had a lot of time before I had to be home.

I followed a line of cabins down a steep hill and stopped suddenly when I heard the sound of rushing water coming from below. I backed up to see many rocks and a flowing stream with little waterfalls about 30 feet away. YOU BEST BELIEVE I RAN THAT 30 FEET. Using my skills, I rock-hopped to the center of the creek….almost falling five times. I wanted to get to this particular rock farther away from the shore, so I took off my sneakers and waded through. I wanted to go to THIS ROCK because it was right on top of the waterfall. I stuck my feet in the rapids, which calmed me greatly.

I ended up falling asleep to the sunset only to be awoken 45 minutes later by the quacking of three passing ducks. I tied my sneakers up, pulled back my hair, and rock-hopped back to the shore. By now, it was practically time to leave, so I made my way back home.

The ride back was peaceful. I listened to The Antlers while flipping through Betty Brown’s yearbook, gazing at the signatures signed in 1942. The sun was setting and my parents were talking in low murmurs. At that moment, I was perfectly content with the world. I’m glad I got to spend this day the way I did.

“Betty, best of luck and happiness. I’ll always remember you. Love, Dave Douglas” 1942.