Driving along one of the tree-lined, country roads, I noticed a sign that read,
"Douthat State Park".
"Douthat," I said aloud, as if it sounded familiar.
"Douthat? Like . . . . . . Dalfat?" I questioned.
When I was a kid, my family and I went camping every summer,
and one summer we went camping at "Dalfat" State Park.
That is how I saw it in my head, because that is how it always sounded when people spoke it.
I never saw it in writing.
Over the years, my family would tell stories about when we camped at
When you say that, by the way, make sure you add a "southern hick" twang.
My family does not speak that way, but for some reason, whenever the name was brought up,
it was spoken with a "southern hick" twang.
And, even though the two spellings do pretty much sound identical ( Dalfat. Douthat.),
somehow, this new discovery changes the way that I remember things.
It means that when we saw the "nice lady" who was lying on the bathroom stall floor
(probably strung out on drugs),
. . . . . . that was at Douthat, not DALFAT.
And, those noisy camping neighbors - the ones who talked all night,
. . . . . .that was at DOUTHAT, not Dalfat.
And, when the campfire exploded, and burned holes in the chairs,
my Winnie-the-Pooh blanket, and my FINGER ( yes, it hurt),
. . . . . . that was at Douthat, not Dalfat.
If you are thinking of visiting, please do not let my memory of these events deter you.
The park is beautiful.
There is a nice lake with boats for rent, a beach area, quaint little cabins nestled into the hillsides,
and ample places for camping.
None of which I remembered from being there, as a child.
Maybe there IS a D-a-l-f-a-t Park . . . . . . somewhere ? ? ?
Hmmmm . . . . . .