When I was about seven or eight years old my dad started to take me, my goon of a younger brother, and my younger sister to a pond scattered, tree covered State Park a town over from ours called Harold Parker State Forest. I have endless memories there, and the memories will continue for as long as I can help it. My little sister had a speech impairment as a toddler and used to call the park Harry Potter because she couldn't say Harold and to this day it is an ongoing joke with my family. Whenever someone in my family goes there now my mom still calls it that.
My dad's a very spontaneous person. He doesn't like to plan ahead with most things so on the weekends when we were younger it would always be a surprise to us when we found out where we were going. I remember he would wear the same things every weekend he took us. He is simple and would wear jeans and one of his many "life is good" shirts. He would tell us where we were going and my mom would pack us all our ice cold Poland Springs sparkling water and make us sandwiches to bring with us. Almost every time it would be either a grilled cheese for each of us or a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for me and my little brother. My sister was an extremely picky eater and didn't like peanut butter so she would have jelly and fluff. My siblings and I would grab our mini chairs and mini fishing rods from our shed and bring them around the front of the house so my dad would pack them in the car for us. It was an incredible feeling driving through that forest as a kid, all the trees would fly by us in the car and we didn't know when it ended, it seemed like it never would. Everything was so simple there.
Harold Parker By: Sarah Bowen
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