I made two memorable trips to St. Augustine, Florida. Both of them were church-sponsored youth-camping trips. The first was in the summer of 1971 and I have never been allowed to forget it. I had a 1970 Ford (without air conditioning) at the time and provided transportation for myself; my wife Louise Callaway Johnson; her great-niece, Katherine Louise Callaway; her friend and my friend, Jacquelyn Johnson (no relation); and Karen Swann. I thought the trip down was uneventful compared to the time at the beach, but little did I know. At every opportunity, Jacquelyn likes to point out that I drove them to Florida in a car WITHOUT air conditioning and that they had to "ride with their heads out the window LIKE DOGS". My own memory of the trip involves a rainstorm while we were camping in a KOA camp ground near the beach. All our tents were primitive affairs that offered little protection from the wind and rain, but we all survived and eventually got our stuff dried out.
The second trip was in 1980 when I drove a borrowed van for hauling tents and luggage. I followed the church bus as best I could for fifteen miles, or so, until the van refused to go at much more than a walking pace. I managed to make it to the Chevrolet dealer in Thomson, from where I called the State Patrol in Louisville, GA. I requested that they stop the church bus and tell them of my predicament. I then notified the owner of the van and got him to bring the church van in which to finish the trip. Both of these requests were complied with, and I was able to catch up with the bus in an hour or so. The camp was in the same spot as in 1971, but I don't remember a storm like we had before.