Branson

Sometimes when you want to get somewhere you have to go in the opposite direction. I experienced that sensation dozens of times last week driving around Branson, Missouri with my wife, Rhonda. The road trip down there was circuitous enough; we drove west to Kansas City to visit my niece, and then back to the east to get to Branson. But it wasn’t until we got into the Ozark's that I got completely turned around.

I have been known to forget where I parked my car at the airport, to sit through a traffic light while listening to a song, and to go in one direction when I meant to go the other, but the roads around Branson were enough to make me crazy. I literally had to stop the truck before we left the campground and ask Rhonda, “Which way?” And I did this all week.

To get a picture of what I am talking about you could go on the Internet and view a map of the Branson area or you could cut about a dozen pieces of string and throw them up in the air. The haphazard pattern on the floor will closely resemble the road map I had to deal with. To go south you traveled north, to go west you went east. Fortunately, my truck has a compass and on-screen map – they kept me sane.

Eventually, we got to the proper compass heading – but it took a lot of faith. It took faith that the map was correct, and it took faith that our truck wouldn’t leave the road and go careening down any one of the numerous steep embankments to certain death as I was checking my whereabouts.

You couldn’t go to too many places in Branson where religious faith wasn’t practiced or at least demonstrated. Gospel music is quite common in the area and can be heard at several different venues – even those not specifically advertising a gospel message.

People were patient and kind – I suppose the kind of behavior you would expect in a tourist town, but it was more than that.

The campground we stayed had some seasonal (two or four seasons?) residents that didn’t have many extra possessions, their camper/home could be considered modest at best. But they were content, if not happy with their lot in life.

The owner of the campground went out of his way to help a couple who were living in their minivan find a new home, and he made room for a family who had arrived from Wyoming in their two tired trucks pulling an old boat and even older camper. All they owned was in those two rigs, but they were happy to get a fresh start at their new address.

Patriotism was also a common theme throughout the area. Three of the attractions we took in had a big part of their show dedicated to the flag and those that had served in our military.

One of the shows played the four songs from each of the branches of the military, with veterans from their respective branches standing during their song. It was quite moving to see so many servicemen in their seventies, eighties and nineties stand while their fight song was played.

What I experienced in Branson reminds of the way it used to be in this country. Maybe we will eventually find our way back to that, as we certainly seem to be going in the opposite direction right now.