Dredging up Crater Lake memories

The Crater Lake article brought back fond memories [“It’s Elemental,” by Christopher Reynolds, July 26]. While traveling with my husband and two children (13 and 8) in 1984, we had reservations at Crater Lake Lodge.

We trekked up the stairs to our room only to find there was no TV and nothing much else. (There were shared showers at the end of the hall.) I said immediately that we were leaving because of no TV; I need to be connected to the outside world and made no apologies.

Down the stairs we went with suitcases; the manager thought we were crazy. Have you ever been stuck in a hotel room with nothing to do with two kids? We all hate hiking, so that was that. The lake was beautiful for the 20 minutes we saw of it.

We went to Klamath Falls, Ore., which was interesting because we saw no falls. We ended in Redmond, Wash., watching the 1984 Democratic convention, but at least there was a TV.

The lesson: Do your research before hauling two kids sightseeing around America. My son, now 38, laughed when he saw the article in the paper and remembered hauling the suitcase up and down the stairs.

Jacquie Mahoney

Claremont

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Enjoyed your article about Crater Lake. My first visit to Crater Lake in the mid-’70s was extremely eventful. The view of the lake itself was, indeed, mesmerizing. I loved the fresh air and the majesty of the caldera.

I listened to an informative talk by the ranger and remember one important comment: According to Indian tribal legend, bad luck will come to anyone who looks on the face of the lake. I thought, how sad to prevent people from experiencing that beauty.

On the winding ride up to the ranger station, I was mildly carsick. At the snack bar, I asked for a glass of water and added an Alka-Seltzer to help settle my stomach. Carsickness was nothing compared with what I felt 36 hours later. This was when the lodge’s sewage system was seeping into the drinking water, and most of the employees were sick with E. coli infections, as was I.

It took me several years to overcome the illness, and I’ve since learned to pay attention to tribal legends about sacred places.

Marilyn Freeman

Laguna Woods

I also want to tip my Mouseketeer ears to The Times’ Travel section [July 12] for the nicely done look-back stories on Disneyland as its celebrates its 60th anniversary this summer.

The day it opened — July 17, 1955 — brings a memory as well for my family. On that exact day Dad and Mom packed my older brother and me in the car and we said adios to our rental cottage in Silver Lake. (I didn’t say much, though, I was only 8 months old.)

My dad had been transferred from the then-Terminal Annex post office next to Union Station to the Berkeley main postal facility. The move was also made because much of our extended family lived in the East Bay Area.

Later, in the summer of ‘62, the family drove back to L.A. for a visit to Disneyland. I recall that the neat-o rides were the monorail, that submarine thing and the Golden Horseshoe show where “Clancy Lowered the Boom.” (And, for some reason, I can still picture all those crisply uniformed Disney workers walking around with brooms and dust caddies.)

By this time I also had a younger brother, so for us three siblings it was a pretty good deal of a vacation. In our cool yellow ’55 Chevy Bel Air, the family made it a theme-park trifecta by also taking in Knott’s Berry Farm and Marineland.

The vacation was relatively short, but the memories of our “Lost L.A.” have been long-lasting.

Richard F. de la Torre

Cypress