Now that I've decided to write down the stories that I've heard I suddenly can't remember any. Funny how that works. You've got a thousand things to say until your turn comes to speak. So, a few random things I remember... There was a guy with a trailer here on H-row named Frank Carli. He was a diver, and, from where I sat, a particularly good free diver (breath-hold). As a kid, I was in a boat as a passenger spotting him while he dove the bar for halibut and every time he dove I though he was dead. I didn't time him, but he was down for a long time. Minutes. Good thing that this was well before cell phones, as I would have been well into my call to 911 when he would pop up, take a few breaths, and resubmerge. In his 70's? 80's? I'm not convinced that I could stay down longer with a tank of air on scuba. And your breath scares the fish, so he held his breath. Frank killed a lot of halibut. He surrounded himself with other breath-hold kill...
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So (my favorite word to start a post) here's a blog about stories I lived, stories I heard, and maybe some history from Lawson's Landing, a campground and RV park that was started by my family in 1956. Who would care about such a thing? Mostly nobody, but a lot of the stories I heard and the things I witnessed stick with me, and they might stick with someone else, so why not share? Also, it was a special place, a mix of transient and non-transient people. There were, at one time or another, about 200 "permanent" trailers there year-round, mostly weekend homes for people from the Sacramento Valley. "Permanent" is in quotes because that's what we called them as they stayed year-round, but they aren't there now, so not permanent. There was also another 150+ acres for camping and while most people would come in for a weekend a few would stay for months at a time over the summer. The "monthlys" were as regular as the "permanents"...