Several of the adventures we had as boys were dictated by movies we
had seen. Top Gun came out and we were all about jets and call signs.
Robin Hood Prince of Thieves came out and we laid down out toy guns
and took to the woods for weapons. We would pull bamboo out of the
ground and use them as spears or carve out branches into fighting
sticks. One Friday night we all watched the movie Stand by Me. The
movie is about a bunch of boys set out on an adventure to find a
missing boy or boy's body. Inspired by the movie, we had all agreed
that night to take our own little adventure the following day... minus
the missing boy of course.
We had each packed our backpacks with the necessities for such an
adventure. Sack lunch, canteen of water, camo paint, a knife, bug
spray, and of course our camo clothes bought at the Millington Army
Surplus store. We agreed to meet at Stevies house at 6:00am that next
morning which means I got up at 5:30 to get there on time via bicycle.
Looking back my parents never really questioned us on all of our
bizarre adventures but again it was a different time and they had
nothing to fear. Mike, Stevie, and I set out on our adventure
promptly at 6:00am towards the woods behind Stevie's house.
Geographically speaking these are the woods to the southwest of
Oakhurst rd, goes to the edge of Sykes rd, and backs up to Crenshaw
rd. Big area to cover and uncharted territory to us adventurers. We
had walked for hours covering various fields, crossed many barbwire
fences, and walked upon several little ponds. This might not seem like
much but to us we were living out the movie in every aspect.
We had circled back around to a water tower towards the very back of
Oakhurst and stopped for lunch. We sat there, ate our lunch, and just
laughed and talked forever. We were boys being boys and there is no
other way to describe it. We had finished our lunches and slowly made
our way back to civilization just as the sun was setting on the
horizon. An ordinary Saturday to most but a memory filled with
exploration and adventure for the three boys of Lucy.
Steve Childress
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Monday, April 19, 2010
Great American Pastime
It is that time of year again where kids of all ages are re-oiling
their gloves, buying new cleats, and swinging donut weighted bats. Yes
it's baseball season. After school practices that go into the dusk of
day and then you race home to do homework. The school halls are
bustling with talk of teams, talent, and the smell of competition
is overwhelming.
I am proud to say I am a product of the Millington park and rec.
baseball league. I started my lustrous baseball career with the
coach pitch team the Chiefs. Coach Buck, my dad, as well as Mike and
Stevie's dads, taught this fearless group of five-year-olds the traits
of the game. Although it was underhanded pitch, we thought we were
playing right along with our baseball hero's of the day like Ozzie
Smith or Orel Hershiser.
As we all got older we advanced up in the league to the Bobcats where
we actually had one of our own peers pitch the ball to us. It was
about this time that the sport started to get intimidating and we started to realize who had athletic ability and who, like me, did not. Mike always had the cool position
of catcher. He got to wear "the gear" and played a strategic part in
each game. Stevie was placed in several different positions but all
were in the infield arena, which still considered you a decent
player. As for myself I found a permanent home in either left or right
field, where I alternated with the kid who always sat Indian style
picking flowers instead of picking off grounders and fly balls.
Regardless of my lack of athletic ability, I still played my role with
pride chanting at the batters, and turning my hat inside out to Rally
my teammates.
I didn't know it at the time but it was at Miles fields where we all
as peers began to showcase our talents and standout among the rest.
Hero's were born on these fields that would take this love of the game
to new levels in high school and college ball. Even as an eight-year
old no matter how far down in points we were we knew that when a Ray Fortune or Daniel Hodges got up to bat that the game would be saved. Although I played a
small role in this era I knew I was sharing a role that millions of
kids shared in this great country in my time and decades past.
Baseball was more than a summer activity it was a way of life, a
definition of self character, and a development of pride for one's
self and team. It is truly the great American pastime because we would
play it just as much outside of games and practices as we would at
games and practices. Even writing this story I am immediately taken
back to the sound of cracking bats, the grit taste of dust in my
mouth, the smell of freshly cut grass, and the sight of nine boy's
giving it their all in little league baseball.
Steve Childress
their gloves, buying new cleats, and swinging donut weighted bats. Yes
it's baseball season. After school practices that go into the dusk of
day and then you race home to do homework. The school halls are
bustling with talk of teams, talent, and the smell of competition
is overwhelming.
I am proud to say I am a product of the Millington park and rec.
baseball league. I started my lustrous baseball career with the
coach pitch team the Chiefs. Coach Buck, my dad, as well as Mike and
Stevie's dads, taught this fearless group of five-year-olds the traits
of the game. Although it was underhanded pitch, we thought we were
playing right along with our baseball hero's of the day like Ozzie
Smith or Orel Hershiser.
As we all got older we advanced up in the league to the Bobcats where
we actually had one of our own peers pitch the ball to us. It was
about this time that the sport started to get intimidating and we started to realize who had athletic ability and who, like me, did not. Mike always had the cool position
of catcher. He got to wear "the gear" and played a strategic part in
each game. Stevie was placed in several different positions but all
were in the infield arena, which still considered you a decent
player. As for myself I found a permanent home in either left or right
field, where I alternated with the kid who always sat Indian style
picking flowers instead of picking off grounders and fly balls.
Regardless of my lack of athletic ability, I still played my role with
pride chanting at the batters, and turning my hat inside out to Rally
my teammates.
I didn't know it at the time but it was at Miles fields where we all
as peers began to showcase our talents and standout among the rest.
Hero's were born on these fields that would take this love of the game
to new levels in high school and college ball. Even as an eight-year
old no matter how far down in points we were we knew that when a Ray Fortune or Daniel Hodges got up to bat that the game would be saved. Although I played a
small role in this era I knew I was sharing a role that millions of
kids shared in this great country in my time and decades past.
Baseball was more than a summer activity it was a way of life, a
definition of self character, and a development of pride for one's
self and team. It is truly the great American pastime because we would
play it just as much outside of games and practices as we would at
games and practices. Even writing this story I am immediately taken
back to the sound of cracking bats, the grit taste of dust in my
mouth, the smell of freshly cut grass, and the sight of nine boy's
giving it their all in little league baseball.
Steve Childress
Monday, April 12, 2010
Here fishy fishy
The Childresses are many things but one thing we are not are
fisherman. It has always been one of those things that never caught
on or should I say kept our interest. Now that is not to say we did not
try. We have had plenty of opportunities.
My grandfather was a skilled fisherman. He gave me my first rod and reel
and taught me everything he could about the sport. Every summer he and
my grandmother would take me to Natchez Trace Park. We always stayed at
the park inn which was surrounded by a beautiful lake. My granddad took
me out on the pier for my first fishing experience. He baited my hook
and taught me how to cast my rod. He stood behind me, watched as I
found my spot, I pulled back on the rod, and gave a great cast. At
that moment I heard a shrill coming from my granddad. I had released
my line too early. My line let out on my back cast hooked my
granddad in his right eyebrow. He cut the line and tried getting it out
himself. He eventually had to go to the front desk at the inn and have it cut out.
A few years later, my mom had planned a mother son day at Shelby Farms. We went horse
back riding and had brought some cane poles to fish. We were having a
great day fishing and feeding near by ducks. Our hooks were in the
lake when mom's bobber went under. With excitement she sprung up to
pull it in. I was so proud of my mom because she caught the most
beautiful duck I’d ever seen. Our feathered friend had eaten the hotdog on the hook and had
somehow gotten the hook caught in its beak. Of course, the duck would
not let us help it, so we ended up calling the ranger to take care of it.
Our best fishing story happened many years ago when my brother Will
was a toddler. He had his Mickey Mouse fishing pole with a piece of
hotdog for bait. He would cast it out into the muddy water, reel it
back in along the dirt, and repeat the process several more times. I
went to check on him and saw he no longer had his bait. When I asked
where it was he simply replied, "I ate it." Happy fishing y'all
- Steve Childress
fisherman. It has always been one of those things that never caught
on or should I say kept our interest. Now that is not to say we did not
try. We have had plenty of opportunities.
My grandfather was a skilled fisherman. He gave me my first rod and reel
and taught me everything he could about the sport. Every summer he and
my grandmother would take me to Natchez Trace Park. We always stayed at
the park inn which was surrounded by a beautiful lake. My granddad took
me out on the pier for my first fishing experience. He baited my hook
and taught me how to cast my rod. He stood behind me, watched as I
found my spot, I pulled back on the rod, and gave a great cast. At
that moment I heard a shrill coming from my granddad. I had released
my line too early. My line let out on my back cast hooked my
granddad in his right eyebrow. He cut the line and tried getting it out
himself. He eventually had to go to the front desk at the inn and have it cut out.
A few years later, my mom had planned a mother son day at Shelby Farms. We went horse
back riding and had brought some cane poles to fish. We were having a
great day fishing and feeding near by ducks. Our hooks were in the
lake when mom's bobber went under. With excitement she sprung up to
pull it in. I was so proud of my mom because she caught the most
beautiful duck I’d ever seen. Our feathered friend had eaten the hotdog on the hook and had
somehow gotten the hook caught in its beak. Of course, the duck would
not let us help it, so we ended up calling the ranger to take care of it.
Our best fishing story happened many years ago when my brother Will
was a toddler. He had his Mickey Mouse fishing pole with a piece of
hotdog for bait. He would cast it out into the muddy water, reel it
back in along the dirt, and repeat the process several more times. I
went to check on him and saw he no longer had his bait. When I asked
where it was he simply replied, "I ate it." Happy fishing y'all
- Steve Childress
Sunday, April 4, 2010
The Spring Buzz
Spring is a beautiful time of year here in Millington and the Lucy
area. Just the other day I took time to drive around the old
neighborhood and see all that spring had brought. However, one
unwelcome sight of spring has always been the wasp and bumblebees.
I've had my share of "bee" battles but two in particular are the most
memorable. We always had a problem with bumblebees. Those big hairy thumb sized monsters would always disturb our spring/summer outdoor activities. They would especially hang out by the grill where we
cooked out. One summer my dad invented a game that became a Childress
annual favorite. “Bee Ball” was invented when dad grabbed a little
metal spatula used to move charcoal around and smacked the bees when
they got to close or tried to attack. The sound of the bee being
projected off the metal shovel was indeed a humorous sound. We would
actually argue on whose turn it was to hit the next bee. Call us redneck if you’d like but we all got a kick out of bolting that bee into the oblivion.
My second “bee” story requires a vivid imagination because folks you cannot make this stuff up.
One Spring Stevie and I had a crush on the same girl who
lived down the street from us. We were always seeking out her
attention and trying to get her to notice us. One day Stevie and I invited her over to my house for a
friendly competition, a battle of the wills, on who would get the
girl. We started the competition off by seeing who could do the most
sit-ups on my deck. We lay on the hot wooden deck, flexing our muscles. The girl was counting our sit-ups when not one but two wasp were flying around me. One saw my right nostril as a point of impact,
entered, and proceeded to sting me. The second wasp waited patiently
for the first to make it's run, as if it were a fighter plane waiting for the first to make it’s raid, and once it exited the second made the exact same maneuver. Yes two wasp flew up my right nostril and stung
me. It took everything within me to not cry. There was a girl present, and one I much admired so I had to be tough. I ran inside and mom put bacon soda in my nose. My face immediately began to swell up and my right eye was swollen shut. I walked back outside bruised and battered from
the attack where my lady to be was still waiting. I knew at that
moment that I had won the affection or in this case sympathy of the of
the girl. I really didn't care but I did get the girl and we went steady…for a whole day.
There are many sure signs of spring and insects are not exempt.
Although they can be quite annoying, we all have our stories (good or bad) that make
us reflect on days gone by and appreciate the memories had.
- Steve Childress
Monday, March 29, 2010
Lucy Water Park
No Lucy does not have a water park but after a good long rain we
sure did create one. The geographical layout of Lucy makes for many
areas of water to build up as well as the multiple storm drains or
water ways that lay under Oakhurst rd.
Stevie, Mike, and I carved out many bike trails through out the
community. We made sure in our excavations that they would be low
lying grounds and would be extra muddy when rain is applied. We would
spend hours riding through the mud and water on our bikes covering us from head to toe with mud. After a good bike ride we would run to Mike's house and do a big cannon ball into their swimming pool. You can imagine we only did this once because once Mike's mom saw her pool
covered in mud our rear end’s paid the punishment.
Probably the best place to go after a big rain was Mr. Dale and Ms.
Cathy's house. They had a nice 2 acre lot that sloped downward towards
Oakhurst rd and were also fortunate to have one of the before
mentioned storm drains that ran under the road. Leading to the storm
drain was a ditch that stretched from the back of the property to the
road. If it rained hard and fast enough the ditch would fill up into
raging 3 foot rapids.
We would start from the back and either belly flop into the rapids or
ride some sort of boogie board all the way down to the storm drain. It
was the biggest thrill knowing there was nothing protecting you from
the jagged rocks on the banks of the ditch and the concrete storm
drain awaiting you at the end of your ride. The trick, however, was to
jump off your board or use your feet to stop yourself before plummeting
into the storm drain. If you were not careful, the current could suck
you into the drain and through to the other side of the street. This
of course was out of the questioned being that you would be fully
submerged inside the tunnel and couldn’t get air until you reached the
other side. Was this dangerous and completely a stupid thing to do?
You know it was but we never seemed to care.
To most people ample amounts of rainfall could be depressing and not be a
welcomed site, but to we Lucy boys it was a pattern of weather we
treasured.
- Steve Childress
sure did create one. The geographical layout of Lucy makes for many
areas of water to build up as well as the multiple storm drains or
water ways that lay under Oakhurst rd.
Stevie, Mike, and I carved out many bike trails through out the
community. We made sure in our excavations that they would be low
lying grounds and would be extra muddy when rain is applied. We would
spend hours riding through the mud and water on our bikes covering us from head to toe with mud. After a good bike ride we would run to Mike's house and do a big cannon ball into their swimming pool. You can imagine we only did this once because once Mike's mom saw her pool
covered in mud our rear end’s paid the punishment.
Probably the best place to go after a big rain was Mr. Dale and Ms.
Cathy's house. They had a nice 2 acre lot that sloped downward towards
Oakhurst rd and were also fortunate to have one of the before
mentioned storm drains that ran under the road. Leading to the storm
drain was a ditch that stretched from the back of the property to the
road. If it rained hard and fast enough the ditch would fill up into
raging 3 foot rapids.
We would start from the back and either belly flop into the rapids or
ride some sort of boogie board all the way down to the storm drain. It
was the biggest thrill knowing there was nothing protecting you from
the jagged rocks on the banks of the ditch and the concrete storm
drain awaiting you at the end of your ride. The trick, however, was to
jump off your board or use your feet to stop yourself before plummeting
into the storm drain. If you were not careful, the current could suck
you into the drain and through to the other side of the street. This
of course was out of the questioned being that you would be fully
submerged inside the tunnel and couldn’t get air until you reached the
other side. Was this dangerous and completely a stupid thing to do?
You know it was but we never seemed to care.
To most people ample amounts of rainfall could be depressing and not be a
welcomed site, but to we Lucy boys it was a pattern of weather we
treasured.
- Steve Childress
Sunday, March 14, 2010
The Art of TP
One of the many things my mom taught me was how to properly TP a house. When most parents would forbid such an act my mom surprised us one evening. When I was in the sixth grade, I was having some friends over to spend the night. We had just consumed our pizza when mom came into the living room with a bag full of toilet paper rolls. She explained to us how when she was a youth in church, this was the popular thing to do. Holy Rollers is what she called it I think.
We all piled up in the black Ford Aerostar minivan and proceeded to my parent’s friends Dale and Cathy Ray's house. Parked outside mom strategically laid out the assault mission in detail. We executed the mission with ease leaving no evidence behind except the result of a perfectly administered TP yard.
As we got older, we ventured on our own TP adventures. Some successful, others not so much. One night Mike, Stevie, and I crossed through a field which separated Oakhurst Rd and Shane Rd to roll a kid neither of us liked all that much. As we arrived, I agreed to TP the bushes by the front porch. Unknown to us at the time, the kid, and his family had not made it home. When I was about to start the rolling process car lights swept across the yard as they pulled into the drive. Mike and Stevie still on the perimeter of the yard fled in fright across the field and back to the fort on Oakhurst leaving me barricaded between the bushes and porch steps. I watched the family literally walk by inches from me. Once inside I retreated as quickly as I could through the field where I tripped over a miniature tree. That night we failed our mission and I broke my big toe.
My youth was filled with multiple TP adventures. Some involving forks in yards, some with soapy water sprayed by our super soakers, and all demanded the attention of the next morning onlookers. My house was rolled as well due to the retaliation of others, but it was all in good fun.
I owe this gift to my mother and look forward to the day when I pack my daughter and her little friends in the car equipped with the proper ration of TP. I will watch them with pride as these female ninjas give their own assault on Dale and Cathy Ray's house.....It is only fitting.
-Steve Childress
We all piled up in the black Ford Aerostar minivan and proceeded to my parent’s friends Dale and Cathy Ray's house. Parked outside mom strategically laid out the assault mission in detail. We executed the mission with ease leaving no evidence behind except the result of a perfectly administered TP yard.
As we got older, we ventured on our own TP adventures. Some successful, others not so much. One night Mike, Stevie, and I crossed through a field which separated Oakhurst Rd and Shane Rd to roll a kid neither of us liked all that much. As we arrived, I agreed to TP the bushes by the front porch. Unknown to us at the time, the kid, and his family had not made it home. When I was about to start the rolling process car lights swept across the yard as they pulled into the drive. Mike and Stevie still on the perimeter of the yard fled in fright across the field and back to the fort on Oakhurst leaving me barricaded between the bushes and porch steps. I watched the family literally walk by inches from me. Once inside I retreated as quickly as I could through the field where I tripped over a miniature tree. That night we failed our mission and I broke my big toe.
My youth was filled with multiple TP adventures. Some involving forks in yards, some with soapy water sprayed by our super soakers, and all demanded the attention of the next morning onlookers. My house was rolled as well due to the retaliation of others, but it was all in good fun.
I owe this gift to my mother and look forward to the day when I pack my daughter and her little friends in the car equipped with the proper ration of TP. I will watch them with pride as these female ninjas give their own assault on Dale and Cathy Ray's house.....It is only fitting.
-Steve Childress
Monday, March 1, 2010
Disney World
It seems several of our friends are taking their little ones to Disney World for this year’s Spring Break trip. They are all talking about the money savers, meal passes, ride passes, and all of the ways they have found to efficiently and economically get around to all of the Disney parks with their kids. Although I feel my daughter is still too young for such an adventure, I do look forward to taking her and our next child-to-be, on their first magical trip to Disney World.
It was the late 80's when mom and dad made the big announcement that we, as a family, were to make our first grand excursion to the Magical Kingdom ourselves. I was ten, Will was four, and the excitement alone of such a trip was more than we could bear. My parents sacrificed a lot that year to prepare for this trip because trips like these were few and far between, so the plan was to live it up to the fullest. We avoided the Spring Break rush and took our trip in early May to avoid the Spring Break crowd. Rates were cheaper then, as well as the airfare. Now that I've married a teacher she would be the first to tell you that taking a full week off of school in May is a crucial time to miss, especially if one is preparing for year end test. However, I was ten and thought taking an additional week off of school was the coolest thing ever.
Finally, the big day came when we departed to Memphis International and were Orlando bound. We rented a car and stayed outside of the park area in a Ramada Resort there in Kissimmee. It was, by far, the biggest hotel room my brother and I had ever stayed in. Our first day there we were jumping from bed to bed out of excitement and if my memory serves me correctly, that was when we had our first accident. Will and I collided in mid-air during one of the jumps. Matching goose eggs on our foreheads and a bag of ice on each did not stop us for the amazing weeklong adventure that was awaiting us.
My dad had borrowed a friend of his video camcorder for our trip. This was not your little hand-held device that fits so neatly in the palm of your hand—no, this was a massive two or three pound suitcase that balanced neatly on your shoulder and used true size VHS tapes. My poor dad carried that camera everywhere we went on the trip. It was almost like having an Action News 5 crew document our trip for us. The hard shell case alone for this contraption would alert "today’s" airport security to by-pass the wand and go straight to a full-body cavity search, due to its questionable nature and size. Like I said, my dad recorded everything and by weekend, he had completely filled six full length VHS tapes.
The day finally came when we first entered the magic kingdom. It was everything I had dreamed of, seen in books, and on TV. We walked down the grand boulevard with Cinderella’s castle awaiting us on the horizon. It felt like we had stepped into a dream with the horse-drawn carriages, Disney employees all dressed in their attire, and fascinating sights made for this truly magical world. The park was extremely crowded, but it was not hard finding my family because it was the late 80's, so we were all decked out in the bright neon clothes that made us stand out. Not to mention, dad was carrying an entire film studio on his shoulders that made him easy to spot in the crowd. We rode as many rides as we could, including the infamous Space Mountain where my dad had told and retold the story of when he and mom rode the ride on their honeymoon. He recalled feeling his sunglasses slip and fly off his head. In the pitch dark ride dad reached up in thin air and snatched them back to safety. After riding Space Mountain, I could not understand how he did it. We spent the entire day in the Magic Kingdom and were able to watch the famous firework show at night.
Over the next couple of days, we experienced MGM studios where we saw the Indian Jones reenactment, took a tour on the Grauman’s Chinese Theater ride, and many other attractions MGM had to offer. We also experienced my favorite part of Disney World, Epcot. What amazed me the most about this particular park was the tour of countries. I could have spent the entire day in that section alone. We hit every country, visiting every shop and riding every ride. Did I mention dad was still carrying his camera? We did take a day off from the Disney Experience and took a trip to the Kennedy Space center and Cocoa Beach. That was our first ocean/beach experience. It was a sight I would never forget. My mom and dad made our first Disney experience an unforgettable one to say the least.
I later returned to Disney World my junior year of high school for a MCHS choral competition. There we all met up with a former classmate of ours, Justin Timberlake, and were able to spend the day with him on and behind the Disney scenes. Many years later Shannon and I were able to spend our honeymoon there just as my parents spent theirs.
Our first Disney Vacation was hands down the best family vacation we all took together. We experienced so much in that one week, and amazingly, Will and I did not fight one time. What made the vacation even better is that my dad heroically and sacrificially carried around that massive camera to document the unforgettable Disney Vacation. I was filled with a very nostalgic feeling walking through the parks at night as “When you Wish Upon a Star” played over the many speakers throughout the parks. I highly recommend that if you ever get the opportunity, take your family at least once to Disney World. I can guarantee you it would play a major part in your child’s life, as well as rekindle the child in you. I do recommend that you take a smaller camera though.
-Steve Childress
It was the late 80's when mom and dad made the big announcement that we, as a family, were to make our first grand excursion to the Magical Kingdom ourselves. I was ten, Will was four, and the excitement alone of such a trip was more than we could bear. My parents sacrificed a lot that year to prepare for this trip because trips like these were few and far between, so the plan was to live it up to the fullest. We avoided the Spring Break rush and took our trip in early May to avoid the Spring Break crowd. Rates were cheaper then, as well as the airfare. Now that I've married a teacher she would be the first to tell you that taking a full week off of school in May is a crucial time to miss, especially if one is preparing for year end test. However, I was ten and thought taking an additional week off of school was the coolest thing ever.
Finally, the big day came when we departed to Memphis International and were Orlando bound. We rented a car and stayed outside of the park area in a Ramada Resort there in Kissimmee. It was, by far, the biggest hotel room my brother and I had ever stayed in. Our first day there we were jumping from bed to bed out of excitement and if my memory serves me correctly, that was when we had our first accident. Will and I collided in mid-air during one of the jumps. Matching goose eggs on our foreheads and a bag of ice on each did not stop us for the amazing weeklong adventure that was awaiting us.
My dad had borrowed a friend of his video camcorder for our trip. This was not your little hand-held device that fits so neatly in the palm of your hand—no, this was a massive two or three pound suitcase that balanced neatly on your shoulder and used true size VHS tapes. My poor dad carried that camera everywhere we went on the trip. It was almost like having an Action News 5 crew document our trip for us. The hard shell case alone for this contraption would alert "today’s" airport security to by-pass the wand and go straight to a full-body cavity search, due to its questionable nature and size. Like I said, my dad recorded everything and by weekend, he had completely filled six full length VHS tapes.
The day finally came when we first entered the magic kingdom. It was everything I had dreamed of, seen in books, and on TV. We walked down the grand boulevard with Cinderella’s castle awaiting us on the horizon. It felt like we had stepped into a dream with the horse-drawn carriages, Disney employees all dressed in their attire, and fascinating sights made for this truly magical world. The park was extremely crowded, but it was not hard finding my family because it was the late 80's, so we were all decked out in the bright neon clothes that made us stand out. Not to mention, dad was carrying an entire film studio on his shoulders that made him easy to spot in the crowd. We rode as many rides as we could, including the infamous Space Mountain where my dad had told and retold the story of when he and mom rode the ride on their honeymoon. He recalled feeling his sunglasses slip and fly off his head. In the pitch dark ride dad reached up in thin air and snatched them back to safety. After riding Space Mountain, I could not understand how he did it. We spent the entire day in the Magic Kingdom and were able to watch the famous firework show at night.
Over the next couple of days, we experienced MGM studios where we saw the Indian Jones reenactment, took a tour on the Grauman’s Chinese Theater ride, and many other attractions MGM had to offer. We also experienced my favorite part of Disney World, Epcot. What amazed me the most about this particular park was the tour of countries. I could have spent the entire day in that section alone. We hit every country, visiting every shop and riding every ride. Did I mention dad was still carrying his camera? We did take a day off from the Disney Experience and took a trip to the Kennedy Space center and Cocoa Beach. That was our first ocean/beach experience. It was a sight I would never forget. My mom and dad made our first Disney experience an unforgettable one to say the least.
I later returned to Disney World my junior year of high school for a MCHS choral competition. There we all met up with a former classmate of ours, Justin Timberlake, and were able to spend the day with him on and behind the Disney scenes. Many years later Shannon and I were able to spend our honeymoon there just as my parents spent theirs.
Our first Disney Vacation was hands down the best family vacation we all took together. We experienced so much in that one week, and amazingly, Will and I did not fight one time. What made the vacation even better is that my dad heroically and sacrificially carried around that massive camera to document the unforgettable Disney Vacation. I was filled with a very nostalgic feeling walking through the parks at night as “When you Wish Upon a Star” played over the many speakers throughout the parks. I highly recommend that if you ever get the opportunity, take your family at least once to Disney World. I can guarantee you it would play a major part in your child’s life, as well as rekindle the child in you. I do recommend that you take a smaller camera though.
-Steve Childress
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