Growing Up On Tionesta Reservior- Part 1

I spent much of my childhood growing up in Tionesta, PA, even though we were from Cleveland.  My Dad's family was very "outdoorsy," and we travelled there almost every weekend, weather permitting, and for every vacation.




My Mom, Grandma Kay, Aunt Mar, Uncle Ron, and Grandpa Joe fishing

 



Uncle Ron and "Rosie the Bear" at the store on German Hill. Funny that people thought this was a good idea. And do you remember the rattlesnakes in the cage at Haller's store in town? Terrifying!  We were having some adventures growing up in the dangerous wilderness. I bet our city-kid friends at school in Cleveland thought we were making it all up.

 



Uncle Ron and "Rosie the Bear" at the store on German Hill

 



Sky Jet Restaurant at the top of the hill above Tionesta Dam. You can see why they called it Sky Jet. Grandpa could never resist an opportunity to stop and buy the kids ice cream.

 



Grandma Kay at our campsite on the Tionesta Reservoir in her "Florida Hat". She got it on her trip to Florida and it protected her fair, freckled skin from the sun with its wide brim.  This was our kitchen under the canopy.  Her joke, which was hilarious for kids, was "Get under the canopy, but don't spill any on me." She said it slowly "can-O'-pee" so we didn't miss it.

 

Cousin Carol at the picnic table, and Grandpa Joe having a drink



Grandpa Joe cooking over the fire

 



Uncle Dale and Aunt Mar under the canopy. By the amount of food, it wasn't a weekend trip, probably a vacation.



My Dad, Fred, in his cowboy hat

 



Grandpa Joe, making a face, Uncle Ron, seated, and Uncle Tom

 

Our longtime family friend, Charlotte, who went to school with my Mom, Dad, and Aunt Arlene, helping Grandma Kay, whom she called "Mumsy" in her kitchen under the canopy.

 



Grandma Kay and Uncle Ron by the tent that was home every weekend all summer long. We built a platform so we were up off the ground, and to offset the slope. We used to pitch the tent at the beginning of summer and leave it up for the season. It was canvas and smelled like a wet sneaker in the rain. The key rule was "Don't touch the walls!" (which could cause leaks). We had front steps. The big tent had a 6 foot metal zipper- and Charlotte's favorite joke, every time someone went in or out, was to say "What a man!"

 

 

Grandma Kay in front of the tent and Chippy Chihuahua in the corner.

 

 

This was our "front yard" looking out from the canopy and tent towards the Lake, which you could see. We camped way up the trail, while Uncle Bud and his family camped lakeside.

 

Of course, if you had a "front yard" you had to mow it. Grandpa Joe cutting the grass. It wasn't just for looks- we had killed a rattlesnake there- no high grass in the hot sunny spots. The mower had to be transported by boat or the truck. The "trail" that we drove the truck down was terrifying, squeezing the green truck or old red Scout between trees, and through huge waterholes and beside cliffs to get down to the water. I used to beg Grandma to walk with me instead of being in the truck. A terrifying ride every weekend- wonder if that is why I hate amusement parks? The rancid mucky water in the huge holes and ruts would stink so bad. Great Grandma once came camping and she said, "Congratulations, it smells like you have discovered the a**hole of the World."

 

My dad and Grandpa Joe setting up the posts for horseshoes in our " front yard"

 

Uncle Dale and Aunt Mar coming down the trail from our campsite up in the woods, past Uncle Bud's tent site.

 

 

 

Grandpa Joe with Uncle Bud in the background, working on building docks for our boats. Not sure who the blond boy is.

 

Uncle Bud's green Scout. Dad, Grandpa, and Uncle Bud building the docks. Notice that Uncle Bud did not believe the doctors when they told him he wasn't supposed to be able to walk again. He was a wild man and survived plane crashes in the war and a car accident. We knew he was a pilot, but we found out after he died that he was a member of the elite group of pilots in the war known as the Hell Hawks. They provided air cover for the D-Day Invasion in their P-47 Thunderbolts. We just knew he drank and smoked and played cards and lived life to the very fullest, and was never afraid to do anything. Quite a character- he was married to Grandpa's sister Leona.




 Grandpa Joe coming out of Faraone's Grocery in Newmansville.  Notice it was a Sinclair gas station with its dinosaur logo.  Must be a problem since he doesn’t have a cardboard box of groceries and Dad and Gram are with the truck.

 

Yep, some kinda problem. Notice the mud from the trail. It didn't stink so bad once it dried.

 




 Grandma Kay waiting in the truck. She always let Grandpa do the shopping there.When that truck was back home, I am thinking the neighbors in Cleveland must have been busy all week talking about what those Pennsy hillbillies did on the weekends.

 



Aunt Mar and a woman I don't know on the tailgate. When you rode back there you had to lift your feet so you didn't get stink-mud on them. Some little boy, with initials SJP, deciding that since it smells so bad, this must be a toilet. Char talking to "Mumsy" up front.

 

"Tailgating" but not at a sporting event




 Ron, Maureen, and a woman holding Chippy the Chihuahau. She was my first dog-friend and so very gentle- not at all high-strung or a nipper like some. We used to have to watch the skies constantly for hawks who might be hunting an exotic little Mexican meal.




Uncle Dale, Grandpa and Grandma, and Aunt Maureen. Not easy to have great hair in the woods. Notice the ever-present clothesline. Towels and swimsuits for family and friends took up a lot of space once it got cooler.



 Aunt Mar working on her 'do, Grandma and Grandpa, on the walkie-talkie. Must be talking to Uncle Bud's crew at the lakeside camp.

  

 

 

Close family friend, Charlotte, around the fire. She was a wild-woman adventurer. She would smoke a cigar out there sometimes. Only while camping and it had to be a "Tiparillo"- with the plastic tip- a lady could smoke, but she could not spit tobacco pieces.

 

Uncle Dale and Dad. Check out he size of that tent! 

 

 



Grandpa and Grandma, with Dale and Maureen.  Aunt Mar says that in the days before hair products were available, setting your hair was the only way to keep it under control.

 

 

Grandma, never siting still and always perched on something. Clockwise- the edge of Grandpa Joe having a beer, Dad, his cousin Gib, who was Uncle Bud's son, Uncle Tom, Uncle Dale on the other side of the fire and Uncle Ron.

 

 

Not sure who the blonde is, Uncle Ron, Grandma Kay, Dad, cousin Gib, and Uncle Tom sitting around the campfire.

 

This was the night Grandpa Joe was shooting at some raccoons in his underwear who were stealing our food. Which is like the old joke- why were raccoons wearing his underwear? Maybe they stole it off the clothesline...