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A HOME ON THE RANGE
Bil Gilbert
July 06, 1970
And rarely is heard a discouraging word as hundreds of trailer owners band into caravans, heed the creed of the Way of Life Division, park in circles like wagon trains and brave foreign lands
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July 06, 1970

A Home On The Range

And rarely is heard a discouraging word as hundreds of trailer owners band into caravans, heed the creed of the Way of Life Division, park in circles like wagon trains and brave foreign lands

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By and by Mrs. Edna Potter, the Recreation Leader, briefed the caravaners on what was planned, funwise, for the next day: a three-hour bus tour, a visit to a winery, a soccer game, a folklore ballet, a welcoming visit by the city fathers. Then she introduced the Sing-Along Chairman, a retired major with a magnificent set of muttonchop sideburns and considerable schmaltz ("He asked to be on the Parking Committee," a caravan aide said, "but we thought he would fit into this slot better"). Under the major's direction all the hoarse tenors and cracked sopranos began to belt out such favorites as Moonlight Bay, Clementine, Home on the Range. "If you sing like that," complimented the major, "I know we are going to be a happy group."

It was a nice scene. Certainly it was an innocent and harmless one. Considering what these caravaners have been through, one way or another, at one time or another, to get where they are, to create the Way of Life they have, there is something genuinely cheerful about all of these old souls sitting under a Carta Blanca beer sign on a cool night in the middle of a parking lot in Monterrey, Mexico singing Let Me Call You Sweetheart.

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