THE BRYSON CITY BOYS

 

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My parents, siblings, and I often vacationed in the mountains of North Carolina during my childhood, and I remember that period of time with pleasure.

 

While I can’t say anything extraordinary occurred while we were involved in these road trips, there were a couple of interesting people, places and things along the way.

 

I have previously written about a young hiker who walked past our campsite, (the only time I recall sleeping in a tent prior to my Army days) and my dad inviting him to “sit a while.” As it fell together, Gary Carlson, a USC or Berkeley student, had been hiking the Appalachian Trail. As night fell, my father suggested he set up his one man tent next to our own. As an adult, I have checked social media sites in an attempt to reestablish contact, remind him of that little season, and mutually update one another.

 

I remember a visit to Cherokee, North Carolina, and a lovely young lady of perhaps twenty whom I noticed across the city street. She was obviously disabled. As I recall she was using a couple of those short canes, one in each hand; apparently the victim of Multiple Sclerosis. I have often wondered who she was, where she was from and what she, ultimately, did with her life. She would be in her 70’s now. I still pray for her.

 

While we were vacationing in Bryson City, North Carolina my brother, Wayne and I decided to take a walk one evening. We had walked a few hundred yards, crossed a railroad track, taken a couple of turns along the dirt road, and ran smack into

 

…the Bryson City Boys!

 

At least, these five or six young bullies claimed that was their chosen moniker, and threatened to beat our rear ends. Needless to say we didn’t spend a great deal of time heading back to the safety of our cabin.

 

Who can say, almost sixty years later those same little tuffs may still be hobbling around the wilds of Bryson City threatening to beat the ever loving tar out of adolescent boys; only to be met with snickers, and not a little reciprocal retribution.

Post-Script – One of my friends visited Bryson City this week, and I’m happy to report he didn’t see “hide nor hair” of the Bryson City Boys.

by William McDonald, PhD