Summer Holidays by author and poet Diana Dettling Buckley

Diana Dettling Buckley, a lifetime member of the Texas Gulf Coast Poets and a member of the Poetry Society of Texas has been living in Texas for the past 16 years.  Diana was born in Edmonton, Alberta, Canada. Ever since her short story was published in the school paper in 8th grade, Diana has kept a viable interest in writing. Pursuing her nursing career, she moved to McAllen, Texas in late Fall of 1995. Diana has taken several creative writing classes from Gilbert Benton with the Alvin Community College.  From these classes, Diana decided to delve into poetry. Joining the Texas Gulf Coast Poets has provided an avenue of learning and writing. Currently enrolled in several life story classes, Diana hopes to one day write the perfect novel. Publishings include Windows, Snapshots, Sol Magazine and the Texas Poetry Calendar.

Diana Dettling Buckley will be reading her essay entitled "The Blind Date" on Wednesday, February 29th at 7pm at the Friendswood Public Library. Other essayists include Barbara Carle, Kay Cox, and Nanci Engle.

Summer Holidays (Part One) 

With seven kids Mom and Dad never had a chance to take us on any vacations. When Dad bought the used tent trailer in 1965, things changed. We were ecstatic! For the next four summers, we vacationed in the province of British Columbia, Canada. The summer of 1969 proved most memorable for all of us. 

On July 20th, Dad roused us out of bed to watch Commander Neil Armstrong take "one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind". 

Still dreaming of moonwalks, we piled into the car. Perry, the youngest and spoiled one, sat in front between Dad and Mom. Crowded in the back seat were Andy (14), Freddie (13), Ada and myself. Crowded meant careful not to touch each other's precious space. Ada was my Mom's 21 year old niece from Amsterdam. And SHE was Hollywood gorgeous. Platinum blonde, 5' 7", and one hundred and fifteen pounds. By profession, Ada was a hairdresser and worked in the salon at

Eaton's Department Store in downtown Edmonton, Alberta. She lived with us for 2 years, and then married a native American. Now Dad was a confident, safe driver. Mom often stated that she was too, and constantly provided proof by pumping the imaginary brakes and grabbing the dashboard while uttering "slow down, not so fast, too close, don't pass that truck"! 

To make the drive seem shorter, we occupied our time by counting cows, barns, fence posts, power poles, whatever. The ultimate prize was a thick frosty milkshake to the first person that spotted a bear. Through the majestic Canadian Rockies and on to the gently rolling hills of Penticton, we finally arrived at the Skaha Tent and Trailer Campsite located across the road from Skaha Beach. It wasn't too long before Ada and I found some friends which included both sexes. We arranged to meet with them on the beach after supper. 

One of the boys, Rodney, brought a guitar. We built a small fire and sat on the cool sand listening to him strum and sing great folk songs by Woody Guthrie, The Kingston Trio, and Peter, Paul, and Mary. Rodney and Ada instantly fell in love. As it turned out, Rodney's buddy, Michael, was quite smitten with me. Ada picked up on this and spoke in Dutch telling me to pretend I was also fresh from the land of windmills. I had no interest in him, but I couldn't desert Ada, so I ended up playing mute for the entire evening. I think this poor little Dutch girl routine only served to entice my new paramour. But I can tell you if looks could kill, I would be long dead, because the very next day, Rodney and Michael came to visit us at the campsite. I didn't see them at first, so when Andy and Freddie started horsing around, I told them to smarten up. My paramour heard me as clear as a bell--in English. His face showed, above all, shock. He executed a quick 180 degree turn and walked swiftly away. I never saw him again. 

A few nights later, close to dawn, I woke up for no apparent reason. Everyone was still asleep. I half rose up on my elbow and peered out towards the screened tent door. On the opposite bed, close to the foot end, sat a woman dressed in a pale white gown. My eyes opened wider as I sucked in the dead quiet air. Abruptly, she took her gaze away from my parents and stared directly at me. Without making a sound, I cowered under the blankets until morning. 

Over breakfast I told everyone about my ghostly vision. She was slender with long black hair and had porcelain skin. She also possessed the bluest eyes, like the colour of a late summer afternoon sky. Dad stopped eating and said "that sounds like my mother"! Later in the day, Dad was admitted in the hospital with a serious intestinal infection. In all honesty, I think my vision was a harbinger of what was to come in the Fall of 1969. 

Diana Dettling Buckley