Faulkner Boys "Brounion" 2019
But I'm so thankful it did.
It started with a deep longing just to be together with all of my brothers again. I don't think we've all been together in the same place like this for maybe twenty years. It's hard to say for sure.
Bordering on the miraculous, the event that brought us all together began with a text.
One year earlier my friend Craig and I had gone on a camping trip, June, 2018. For me it was a pilgrimage of sorts back to my family's treasured camping spot and favorite little river, high in the lonely Oregon desert. Keepemquiet Creek, or simply the Creek is what it shall always be referred to online.
The last time I had been to the Creek prior to last summer was 45 years ago in 1973. My Dad had taken me on a special camping and fishing trip to the Creek.
Dad at the Creek, June, 1973
But this was our Faulkner family camping place. We spent many weekends here while we lived in Klamath Falls, in the early 1970's. The sights and smells and memories are forever etched into my heart and mind. This place is rooted in my soul and the times spent with family are precious to me.
The trip my friend and I took here in 2018 was equally memorable.
Most of the time the old saying applies, "You can never go back." But that saying proved to be false in 2018.
Most of the time the old saying applies, "You can never go back." But that saying proved to be false in 2018.
The Creek was just as I remembered it. Pristine and almost completely unspoiled. We saw only a handful of people. The trout were small and few. But the smell of juniper and lodgepole pine trees were just as I'd left them 45 years ago. The sparkle and sound of the creek next to our camp was just as calming and magical as ever. The soothing sounds of the afternoon breeze whispering through the ponderosa pine trees welcomed me back. In many ways it felt like coming home.
On the last day of our 2018 trip as I was taking dozens of pictures to take back home with me I came across a particular spot along the stream bank where the shape and movement of the tall grass blowing in the breeze was extremely familiar. The diamond shaped ripples on the water and flow of the stream brought me back to my trip to the Creek with Dad 45 years ago. I had been here before... to this exact spot.
What's strange about that is this particular camping spot wasn't even the one I was looking for.
The first day Craig and I arrived it was late afternoon and we'd been driving all day. There is a particular camping spot at the end of a little dirt road that led to our favorite family camp site all those years ago. I assumed we could just drive right up that little road and break camp at the old camp site. Problem was, I couldn't find the road. We drove around for hours searching for it. I was getting pretty discouraged and more than a little frustrated.
We crossed over a small bridge that looked completely unfamiliar. The road I was searching for had to turn and go upstream. But there simply wasn't any such road to be found. I was about ready to turn around and search some more but Craig pointed to a road that cut off to the opposite direction of where I wanted to go. He said, "Let's try that road." I said, "fine, I guess it can't hurt to take a look."
After driving for at least two miles we came down a small hill into a large clearing and there was the Creek. It wasn't the spot I wanted. But it was beautiful and it would have to do since it was getting late in the day. We could continue our search again tomorrow.
This spot turned out to be wonderful. Great views. Spacious camp site right next to the creek. Large pine trees for shade and shelter. Huge meadow just downstream from us and not another human being in sight. We set up camp, cracked open a couple of cold beers and made some turkey sandwiches.
Sitting in our camp chairs I laid my head back and closed my eyes. That familiar song the afternoon wind makes whistling through the pine needles lulled me into daydreams of days gone by. Sweet memories of casting my own hand-tied size 16 bucktail caddis flys, watching them dance along the riffles only to be slurped down by colorful rainbow trout as it crossed behind a small submerged boulder.
The Creek June, 2018.
Look at the large pine tree and slanted rocks in the middle.
Look at the shape of the mountain in the far distance.
Look again at the same rocks and tree and mountain in 1973.
Some of these pictures are what I texted to my brothers and sister. You can't miss it. It's the exact same spot!
Some don't believe in Providence. "It's just a coincidence" many will say. But the way it all happened and how it brought me back to the same exact spot 45 years later is not a coincidence. And more importantly, the texts and photos began a conversation with my family again. We were excited to do a family reunion. My hope was that it would be back at the Creek. There was even talk of everyone wearing cowboy hats like Dad.
But it was not to be.
Not all of us were available to go on vacation the same week in June that I wanted to go.
So it was suggested that we go later in the summer, but not back to Oregon. We would meet in McCall, Idaho. There is a beautiful lake there and my brother Paul has a boat!
So after much discussion back and forth we decided on a week in mid July and all of us brothers would be able to go. We didn't want anyone to be excluded. And I am thankful for how it all worked out.
Faulkner Bros on the Lake, July, 2019
We spent an entire day out on the lake in Paul's boat. And for me it was magical. It was completely brotherly. No ideological divisions, tension, or political arguments. Just family. A Brounion. I didn't want it to end. It was like nothing had ever happened in the past to cause any division between us.
We spent evenings in our cabin playing guitars and singing old songs until the wee hours of the morning. Jon and Jeff know a lot of songs!
This will always be one of my favorite memories with my brothers. I hope we can do it again next summer.
One of the life lessons I learned in this process was to never give up on people. Be patient and be the one to extend the invitation to be together. Never stop loving people even when previous difficult situations may have caused some division.
I love these guys.
—More than they know.
