From left, Rena, the author’s Mom (Helen) and Buddy on the blanket at Greenwood. (Photo courtesy of MARGARET KODISH ZOOK)

In the past couple of years I have found myself returning to Greenwood Furnace State Park and sharing my childhood memories with my adult children. I also have brought visiting friends there to hike the different trails and it was a perfect place to take my brother, Buddy, during Covid times to eat a picnic lunch and just sit and take in the scenery. What keeps drawing me back to Greenwood is the natural beauty and the remembrance of those summer days in the early sixties when my family would pack up picnic supplies and head over the mountain to enjoy a simple afternoon swimming and hiking and eating the most delicious hamburgers and fried potatoes made over the charcoal grill.

Dad was unemployed in the early sixties so there wasn’t money for real vacations. The summer Sundays at Greenwood were our times away from home. Driving the route through Big Valley, passing through Belleville and making that turn to the mountain road was full of anticipation. The majority of the time our family of six would load into the car for the outing and sometimes we had our next door neighbors trailing along in their car. Mom and Rena were coffee drinking best friends and Rena’s daughters, Vicki and Valerie, were best friends with my sister, Kathy, and me. Once there we claimed a grill and picnic table and then crossed the road to stake out our spot in the grassy area with our towels and blanket. I think my mother must have disliked the sandy beach because I don’t recall ever situating our gear in the sand.

The cold mountain water of the swimming area never failed to take away your breath. It was best to just run and plunge in. Greenwood was where I learned to swim. I recall my father lifting me up and throwing me towards the deeper water near the buoys that marked the swimming area. I first doggie paddled my way back to him and eventually he taught me the freestyle stroke that I favor today. Dad excelled at swimming underwater. He would look to see where we were in the water and then take a deep breath and swim underwater towards us to swim between our legs. He tapped our leg to let us know he was ready to swim through. There was the one time he inadvertently swam towards a woman that wasn’t one of us and she shrieked in surprise when he tapped her legs.

Hiking the trail on the other side of the swimming area and standing to watch the water sluice over the stone dam was always part of the day as well as exploring the shallows to find tadpoles. The beauty of the woods, the taste of burgers on the grill, the shock of the cold mountain water, hearing the laughter of family and friends and the smell of suntan lotion all remind me of those simple summer days at Greenwood.