Monday, April 2, 2012

B is for Dam B

A group of men were out surveying for an important building project.  Henry said, "What are we going to call it?"  About that time the boss was stung by a bee, and he exclaimed, "Damn bee!"  To which Henry said, "It's not very imaginative, but I guess Dam B will do." 

My daddy told me some such story long ago.  Of course daddy was a great teller of tall tales, so I doubt if that had anything to do with the Army Corp of Engineers naming it Dam B.  But daddy did come home from WWII and go straight to work as a heavy duty equipment operator on the building of the dam.  He, like many others, came back with amoebic dysentery.  And once while he was running his equipment up high on the structure, he passed out.  Luckily a track hung on something large and he didn't plummet off.  He went and saw his doctor and he happily told him that a cure had just come in.

I can remember stopping by the dam with family and picnicking  under the trees at the rest stop at the top of the dam as a child in the 60's.  And daddy walking me down to the dam, and me being amazed at what my daddy had built. ;o)

In the mid to late 70's I often spent the weekend there at Head Acres, as my best friend Mary Lou and her family had a camp there.  Running the roads in a little orange VW.  Swimming, water skiing, camp fires, boys, and sneaking into the nearby VFW hall to dance.  Back then you could actually drive out onto part of the dam and turn around.  And many would line the sides and fish there. 

In the mid 90's once while on my way back from 4th of July celebration with my sister and her family, I pulled into the rest area and bubba and I walked down to the dam.  I had told him how his pawpaw had helped build it, so of course he wanted to see it, especially since he was between 2nd and 3rd grade then.  I had been going through the roughest time of my life for the six months before.  As we turned around on the dam to walk back down the stairs and leave, there was the largest, most beautiful rainbow in the sky!  I claimed it as my own personal sign from God that my trials would soon be over.  Sure enough, immediately in the weeks that followed things got better and better and by my birthday in September, all was well once again.  No....all was better than ever before.



Summer before last, we stopped by Dam B on our way back from our friend Jim's to rest, stretch and eat.  I wanted to take Hannah down to see the dam, but a gate was across and locked where you used to could drive down.  And it was  posted that no one was to go on foot either.  So, I couldn't share that experience with her.

If you'd like to find out more about Dam B and it's history, click the picture above.

And if you are enjoying yourself in Caneyhead, "Like" it on Facebook in my sidebar. 

Barbara



 

5 comments:

  1. we aren't allowed to drive or walk on the dams we go to either. Wonder why, they took away the fun part. Your story is nice.

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  2. What a cute story with the way it was named, Barbara! How neat your dad was part of the construction of it! I think after all the stuff with terrorism after 9/11 dams are less accessible than previous days....

    betty

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  3. Sad that Hannah didn't get to go in, but glad that she connects your father with such a grand structure.

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  4. Aww how sad that Hannah didn't get to walk onto the dam her grandpa built, too. When I was young, we were able to walk across the Hartwell Dam, too. It was both fun and scary being up there.

    I'm glad you have those memories with your daddy. :) Have a blessed day!

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So glad you stopped by! Come 'round any time. ~ Barbara

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