My Parents

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Robert Harrell

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This is my parents (John and Dorothy Harrell). They started taking us to Lake Powell back in 1967. My mom just passed away June 1 (almost 90). Wayne, I like the title of your book, "My Lake, My Life". I too have a book, a book of memories. I was only 7 when we started exploring Lake Powell. Back in the 60's you had to tell the ranger and leave a note on your dashboard when you were expected to return. The lake was ever changing and new sites were discovered every trip. It was a wonderful time growing up with the lake. I am now 58 and still visit the lake almost every year, but now there are only memories of my mom. She put up with a lot over the years camping out of a boat and fixing food over a driftwood fire. I know many of you "Wordlings" have similar memories. I have been permanently rooted in the canyons of this lake. I have taken my own family (wife and three kids) and now there spouses and four grandchildren. The tradition continues. All this to say, I love this lake, and now when I visit, I will continue to make memories with family, but now remember my mom who was instrumental in making it happen in the first place.
 
So sorry for the loss of your Mom, but wonderful that you have such meaningful memories, and traditions to continue
 
I am, at this moment, lifting a glass to the memory of your.Mom. I have
Robert Harrell said:
This is my parents (John and Dorothy Harrell). They started taking us to Lake Powell back in 1967. My mom just passed away June 1 (almost 90). Wayne, I like the title of your book, "My Lake, My Life". I too have a book, a book of memories. I was only 7 when we started exploring Lake Powell. Back in the 60's you had to tell the ranger and leave a note on your dashboard when you were expected to return. The lake was ever changing and new sites were discovered every trip. It was a wonderful time growing up with the lake. I am now 58 and still visit the lake almost every year, but now there are only memories of my mom. She put up with a lot over the years camping out of a boat and fixing food over a driftwood fire. I know many of you "Wordlings" have similar memories. I have been permanently rooted in the canyons of this lake. I have taken my own family (wife and three kids) and now there spouses and four grandchildren. The tradition continues. All this to say, I love this lake, and now when I visit, I will continue to make memories with family, but now remember my mom who was instrumental in making it happen in the first place.
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never met her, but obviously she has shaped you and your family in a wonderful positive way. You are a lucky man.
 
Hi Robert let me express my condolences to you for your moms recent passing. I too owe my love to this special lake due to my parents. My father especially. He loved the lake and appreciatiated the unique beauty this lake holds. He died suddenly 3 years ago and since his passing going to the lake is even more special due to our shared experiences there.
 
Parents are special. Mine have been been gone for decades but I still miss them and have great love for the kindness and patience they showed me. I went fishing with my Dad one time - I took him. Mom came down to the lake once and we went on a houseboat trip to Navajo. Great memories!

Sorry for the loss of your mother, but I can feel your love for her. I believe that we will see our departed loved ones in the next life. It will be a great day. I wonder if there is lake there?
 
Sorry for the loss your your Mother. Thank you for reminding me of some wonderful memories. My grandpa introduced me to the lake when I was a kid in the 90's on our annual fishing/camping trips to Hite. We would climb all over the rocks in that area and had names for all the various rocks formations. I remember getting to go on his fishing boat with him and catching my first striper. Nothing compares to the feeling of making your grandpa proud when you catch a fish! My grandpa viewed jet ski's as mechanical mosquito's that always appeared at the worst times when you were fishing. He loved modifying and customizing his boat and his gear. He passed away when I was in 5th grade. Now when I go fishing or go to Powell I often think about my grandpa and the fun memories I shared with him.
 
So sorry for your loss I too have a parents that started going to Powell when it first was starting to fill. Most of my dads memories where of that special place. He loved Powell and has instilled in me my love for it. Many memories are burned in my heart of our trips. He used to wear this hat that he wore only at Powell and when he passed away my mom gave to me I wrote this poem to be placed in a memory box with the hat. I've never shown anyone this except for my wife but I found a fitting place here with many like myself That have a common bond and that is loving Lake Powell in an indescribable way.

The Boat


When I was a baby, you bought this boat. Who could have known how it would create such wonderful memories? Not much to it, really; an engine, a throttle, a steering wheel, a prop, and all the things that make up a boat. It transported us through a magical place.


This place I speak is a place where sandstone cliffs rise to heaven above and sparkling diamonds shine from the blue-green water, reflecting off the canyon walls. At night, you can see stars and planets light up the sky; you feel so insignificant, but at the same time, you know you are one of God’s greatest creatures.


This place is known to all as Lake Powell. But it is much more than the name of a lake to me. I have always loved this place since as far back as I can remember. We used to go with family and friends and share each other’s love for this place. Later in life, it was just you and me at times. These times were the best. I would watch when you weren’t looking and hoped someday I could stand where you do. That time came too soon. How could anyone have known? We had one more trip left, you and me. Our last trip was bittersweet. Knowing it was our last time was the hardest. With your body in pain, you went just for me. I know that now. On our last day, you stood at the helm and gave it all she’s got. I wept as you did. The boat has passed to me now and as I feel the wind on my face, as I give it all she’s got. I see the smiles on my kids’ faces and I realize the unspoken sacrifices a father makes to make his kids happy.


As you have broken these earthly bonds and have reunited with those loved ones gone before, I know you are still there watching over us and making sure I do it right. Even though you won’t be there to see your grandkids waterski, I know your smile from heaven will be just as big as you watch a new generation create new memories forever. All because you bought the boat.
 
Lake Powell is a place where families can join together and create beautiful memories of red cliffs, blue water with unique fishing camping and exploring experiences. It is the background for the joy a family feels while establishing the bond that will keep us together forever. Many of us are here because we love this place and the beauty and excitement it inspires. But without family and friends to share the moment it is not quite enough. Family is the most important thing on this earth. Being at Lake Powell with the family is as good as it gets.
 
Yep! My dad passed last August at 94, but the family houseboat trips were a fantastic binding experience for 4 generations.
 
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