Journalist Charles Bowden wrote, “Summertime is always the best of what might be.” Summer is the season of dreams and adventures. A time to rest and to work. The span when days last an eternity, and yet time can pass in a split second. Summer is a period of momentary magic that, when viewed through the hazy lens of passing days, months, and decades still whisks us away to our younger selves when hopes and dreams were always within reach. 

We asked Mast Store employees to share some of their favorite summer memories. 

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Brittany J. 
Mast Store Online, Customer Support 

Recently, my sweetest summer memories have come to me while working in my garden. It brings back all the wonderful time I spent growing up when I would "help" my grandparents work in the garden. After picking the fruit and veggies, we would have to get it ready to cook or can in order to have it to eat year-round.  

From planting and tying up tomatoes to snapping green beans to can, every part of the gardening process reminds me of my grandparents - especially my Granny, who found ways to not just have "enough" for the family, but more than enough to share with friends, neighbors, and co-workers. Their garden and yard became the place to gather and gossip, to eat and entertain. Even now, long after Grandaddy and Granny are both gone, the same folks who have for decades helped us eat up all the apples from Granny's transparent apple trees, still come by with their ladders and buckets to collect what will become applesauce, apple butter, or apple pies. 

For me, summer is about the community around us gathering to share what we have and take care of each other in any way we are able. We don't have to wait to be asked for help or a meal before we share our zucchini or cabbage; it is almost always welcome! 

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Jayne W. 
Inventory Support Coordinator, Waynesville 

My parents owned a dry-cleaning business but they always took time to take us on a summer vacation. The family picture was taken in August 1965 at the African Pavilion at the New York’s World Fair. My brother (he was 15) is holding what I believe is a book regarding the World's Fair, and he must have tagged all the “must sees” in the book. That doesn't surprise me! He is always the one to investigate and plan ahead (in his adult life, he managed a diagnostic lab, so his skills for investigation and planning paid off). My mom always hated this picture because, if you look closely, her tongue is sticking out. My favorite is my sister's hair and outfit (she was 17). I don't remember anything about the actual fair, and my family never talked much about the fair in the years after, except to point out how I was pouting in the picture and was probably a sourpuss that day! Actually, I didn’t want to have my picture taken; I wanted to keep looking at the animals.  

About 50 years after the World’s Fair picture was taken, my sister sent me a birthday card that she says, “I couldn’t resist – she (meaning the girl on the card) just brought back memories!” 

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Teresa P. 
Food Buyer, Home Office 

While this memory isn’t specifically from a summer month, it does conjure up visions of a warm summer destination. 

It was Thanksgiving weekend in 2010. My husband, Eric, stepson, Griff, and I decided to climb Mt. Monadnock in New Hampshire and then to camp there afterwards. I am not much of a camper or climber, but they had assured me that it was an easy hike/climb. About three fourths of the way up, we were basically scaling ice covered rocks, so I had a bit of a meltdown and cussed both of them out (Griff was only 11 at the time). Somehow… miraculously, we made it to the summit and started our walk back down. Then it started snowing. At the campsite Eric started getting our tent up and Griff and I got some hot chocolate from the welcome center before it closed for the evening. Griff and I always egg each other on and combine forces against Eric. So, we started complaining about the cold and how we could no longer feel our hands. When we could no longer feel our feet Griff and I both began crying. So, Eric took down the tent he had just put up and sternly told us to get in the car. 

This seems like a memory no one would cherish, but it turned into one of my favorite nights ever. We picked up Five Guys on our way back to the hotel and all climbed into the same bed to eat our burgers and watch the episode of The Office called “A Murder in Savannah.” If you have never seen that episode do yourself a favor. Because of the show we started speaking in exaggerated low-country southern accents for the rest of the weekend. Griff said he had trouble stopping when he went back to school (in Massachusetts!) on Monday. 

We developed character names for each of us to match our new accents that we used for many years afterward. We still occasionally go into these characters when the Spanish moss is swaying, the humidity is thick, and we find ourselves cravin’ a mint julep out on the veranda. 

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Kristin O. 
Graphic Designer, Home Office 

I have many memories of going to Tweetsie Railroad with my parents and sister when I was younger. Whether it was riding rides or just taking pictures, we always had a great time! 

I remember being so excited to ride the big train and the “little kid” rides, especially the miniature mouse train ride at the top of the hill – you had to take a chair lift to get to it! I also really liked driving the cars, and eventually riding the “big kid” rides and going to the Ghost Train, when I was old enough. 

My family always made sure to take pictures, and I’m glad they did! It’s nostalgic looking back at them, especially seeing all the different outfits and hairstyles over the years. There’s one picture that I always think of: my dad, my sister, and I in the Tweetsie Jail. It ended up turning into an annual tradition where every time we went, my mom always took that same picture of the three of us. 

We also really liked taking pictures on the horses, too! What kid doesn’t? There are even pictures from when my husband’s family went to Tweetsie when he and his brother were younger. Funny enough, we found a picture where we’re each sitting on the same horse, “posing” in almost the same way. 

Now that we’ve gotten older, and my sister and I have families of our own, the many adventures of Tweetsie continue. It’s so special to share childhood memories with my daughter, for her to get to experience them in much the same way, and to make memories of her own. An added bonus are all the pictures from then and now - and recreating them! The annual Tweetsie Jail picture, of course, lives on – there’s just a few more little girls included now. 

I hope that my daughter and my nieces have fond memories of Tweetsie to look back on when they are older, too. 

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Bill K. 
Winston-Salem, Inventory Support Coordinator 

As a kid with my father in the Army, he would take a month off every summer when all of us (five kids) were off for the summer. He would pile us all in our Winnebago, and we would start our vacation. We would stop at as many National Parks and Historic Sites as possible during that timeframe. One of the most memorable stops was Carlsbad Caverns. We sat out in the parking lot, and as the sun was getting ready to set, we watched all the bats fly out to begin their nightly feeding. We then embarked on similar adventures in Germany during the summer visiting the historic European castles. 

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Jessa S. 
Executive Administrative Assistant, Home Office 

I grew up on the plains of northern North Dakota, on the border of the United States and Canada. Life there was measured in number of winters instead of years. It seemed nearly all the lifestyle choices we made revolved around the snow. We stockpiled jarred and canned goods for the cold months; we had a giant board game collection to keep us occupied while frozen inside our house; and my siblings and I could quote every Disney movie we owned from repeated watching. Our house was small; our town was small; and our summers were small. But those short warm months were absolute magic.  

I have no fonder memories than inventing yard games, turning the lilac bush into our fort, savoring sweet popsicles in the sun, and reading in trees with my brother and sisters. If we survived each other in the winter, we thrived together in the summer. We didn't have a choice except to be friends and make each other our entertainment. Of course, we had squabbles, but those idyllic summers truly cemented our relationship as both family and friends. This summer, 25 years after living on the prairie, we got together in the sweltering heat and recreated a photo from our childhood. It had been four years since we had last seen each other but, as so often happens, it felt like no summers had passed at all. 

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Seth P. 
Original Store, Knife Shop Manager 

I grew up in Indiana and was always in my Grandpa's woodshop building stuff, even at such a young age. I was only allowed to use basic hand tools at that age, and one day I was using his hacksaw to cut some wood when the blade snapped on me! I was like 'Oh crap!’ in my brain, and instantly went and hid the broken hacksaw behind the side garage door and ran back in the house. I didn’t mention anything about it to anyone.? Of course, a day or so later, Grandpa came in mumbling that he needed to use the hacksaw and wondering what I did with it. Terrified, I just acted like I had no idea and that maybe it got lost somewhere. I'm sure my grandpa could tell I was as guilty as the day is long, but we just went around the shop and garage looking for it. After a minute of looking, he saw it laying randomly behind the door clear as day with a broken blade. I said I didn't know how that happened and acted bewildered. Finally, I confessed that I broke it when cutting something.  

I thought I would be in big trouble, but surprisingly, we jumped in his old blue and white 1970 Chevy truck (I can still remember the smell of the vinyl seats) and rode three minutes up the road to a little hardware store. We went in and bought a three-pack of hacksaw blades for probably $1.50 back then. We took them home and popped one in the hacksaw. Good as new!? This whole time I was thinking I had broken the “Holy Grail,” and my life was over, but it was simply a 50-cent mistake, and my easy-going grandpa couldn't care less about it.? This is a memory is one of my favorites, and others in my family like to tell it, too. 

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Joey F. 
Asheville, General Manager 

Back when I was in middle school, I was an avid fisherman. I LOVED catching fish; any kind of fish!  My parents had never taken to the sport, so I learned everything on my own by reading anything I could and talking to all the people I would meet along the banks of the lake, river, and creek.  

My mom's work sponsored a fishing tournament one year, and I begged to compete! It was an overnight tournament, and all the participants were using boats which allowed them access to multiple spots to catch fish over an 18-hour period. I chose to post up in one of my favorite coves and brought two rods with me. I rigged one for catfish and dressed it with chicken livers all night so it could work for me while I threw everything shiny and noisy with my other rod in hopes to entice a midnight snack response from anything that would bite. 

I would like to note that my wonderful mother was sleeping in the car through this whole process.  What a lady. <3 

I fished diligently through the night and caught ABSOLUTELY nothing. 

I refused to stop fishing until I had to, and one hour before the weigh-in at 10 a.m., I hooked the biggest largemouth bass I had ever caught in my life! It was just over 6 pounds. It jumped off the hook just as I got it into shallow water, and I belly flopped into one inch of water to bear hug it and get it into my bucket. 

I did not win the overall contest that day...but I did take home the $100 prize for the biggest fish and confirmed a valuable lesson for sure!  And let us all remember that $100 used to be A LOT OF MONEY!  Especially to a middle school kid. 

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We love looking back on our summer memories – it’s fun to transport ourselves to carefree days and wholesome adventures. When the call to share summer reflections went out, Joey commented, “This is one of my favorite memories, and I had not thought of it in such a long time.” If you know Joey, you know the smile that is always on his face was just a little wider for a bit. We hope these memories prompt you to meander back to your favorite warm weather recollection.