The Lodge was a working turkey farm owned by Banquet Foods; for which Dad worked for many years. The Lodge had turkey rearing areas, of course, but there was also a beautiful guest home that sat on the highest point on the grounds. The Lodge had three bedrooms furnished to handle two people in each room along with a sleeper sofa in the grand living room that had glass walls on three sides overlooking the expanse of the grounds.
The grounds included two fishing lakes. They seemed massive at the time, but in retrospect, they were relatively small.
Dad, as a Banquet Foods executive, was allowed to reserve The Lodge for our family's use for week-long or long-weekend vacations. We had some wonderful times at The Lodge.
Our trips to The Lodge usually began with a stop to see the Flemings in Moberly. The Flemings were an elderly couple who, many years earlier, had somehow been involved in starting the company that had become Banquet Foods. Their chairs were set upon small platforms to get in and out of the chairs more easily.
They were royalty on thrones to my young mind.
Mr. Fleming had a wonderful collection of mechanical iron banks; some of which he would bring out, load a penny and let us activate. I remember being amazed at seeing the hunter shoot a penny into a hole in the tree behind a ducking bear. I think Mr. Fleming was always glad for a chance to show off his banks.
Mrs. Fleming, on the other hand, had filled most of the house with a collection of knick knacks; most of which were extremely fragile and, I'm sure, quite expensive. Their home was like a museum.
We were always strongly admonished to sit quietly on the floor in the Fleming's living room without touching anything. Back then, children visiting an elderly couple only spoke when spoken to. Dad once told me that we were among the few children Mr. and Mrs. Fleming welcomed into their home because we were so polite and well behaved. I'm sure they realized that our behavior was largely influenced by the fear of suffering a slow and painful death at the hands of our parents if we were out of line at their home, but we were welcomed nonetheless.
After our visit with Mr. and Mrs. Fleming we would climb back into our station wagon and head to The Lodge.
A long gravel drive snaked its way between the two lakes and up the hill toward The Lodge. We were finally there!
A display case sat just inside the front door; filled with a collection of fishing equipment. The bedrooms sat off the hallway leading back to the living room. It was from that living room that we would look out over the grounds; nearly overflowing with excitement for what the days ahead would bring.
We watched the farmhands care for the turkeys, of course. The turkeys were white and they were large. There were hundreds of them in the yard and barns. The noise in the turkey barn was deafening, but we didn't care.
We used to play on the LP tank in the yard, too. It was such fun to climb to the top of the tank and play King Of The Hill, or just straddle the large tank; hitting it to hear the booming resonance of our blows on the hollow tank.
The best times, of course, were the times we spent fishing on the lakes. We usually just fished from shore; casting our lines out into the lake and waiting patiently for a passing fish to grab the worm dangling from the hook. We caught many bluegills, as well as a few bass. The real treat, though, was when Kim hooked a MONSTER!!! Her rod bent almost in half as she struggled to reel in what must certainly have been the biggest fish in the lake. Her excitement instantly changed to sheer terror as she caught a glimpse of the large Common Snapping Turtle on the end of her line.
Kim - who was never all that fond of the long grass, bugs, ticks, snakes or other wildlife around The Lodge anyway - let loose with a shriek certain to be heard throughout the entire county, dropped her fishing rod and ran from the gap in the long grass where she had been fishing. Dad rescued her fishing rod, but that was largely unnecessary; Kim was finished fishing. I doubt that Kim has ever picked up a fishing rod again.
We spent many wonderful days at The Lodge through the years; each one another block in the mighty wall of memories that made up our youth.
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