The Decker Brothers - Part 11

We stopped by H.B. Decker Road the next day and our new lady friend invited us to sit at a table in her side yard as she went into her house to retrieve the Decker Family History book that she had located among her belongings.  But before I continue, I want to step back for a minute into August 1961 and share a bit about our last night of vacation and the weeks that followed.  

I remember clearly our “last supper” at Scott’s Farmhouse. 

It is memorable for me because I did something I had never done before in my entire life - I ate meat on a Friday!  This was at a time in history when the Catholic Church still defined this action as a “Mortal Sin”.   You could go straight to Hell for this offense.  Since I took my religious instructions very seriously and had even been awarded the medal for Religion when I graduated from St. Michael’s Elementary School, this was an extremely dramatic moment in my life.  In fact it was such a dramatic moment that I even remember the meal.  We had spaghetti and meatballs that Friday evening.  It was leftover from the previous night, and because we were leaving to go back to Brooklyn early the next morning, my father announced that we could not let this food go to waste.  I can still see us sitting down for dinner at the kitchen table as my father blessed the food and waved his hand over our heads in a “special dispensation”.  I understood where he was coming from and as rigid as I was back then, I accepted his dispensation.  

After a delicious meal (I have always loved spaghetti and meatballs probably even more so that evening since it was a “forbidden fruit”), and a quick cleanup, Sharon, Dorothy and I went off with our beloved “Hillbillies” for one last evening on the Lake. 

It was a beautiful summer night and we held hands and walked together on a path to the Lake. We took a boat ride around beautiful Lake Oquaga on Scott’s Showboat, all the while romantic music was playing and the lights from surrounding cabins and resorts were reflecting off the water.   It was truly dreamy.   After

leaving the boat, we walked up from the dock as Lyle gently led me to a more private spot under the porch overhang, were he kissed me gently.  I was in heaven!   He called me “Darling”, and he gifted me with his coveted felt hat that had been embroidered at the fair earlier that summer.  We both cried and he vowed to write faithfully and keep in touch.