To hear Bob’s story please click below.
My name is Bob Wooler, and while I live here full-time now, this was not always the case. Back in the day, the family visited in the summer, and boy did we look forward to that one week. You know how they say that anticipating the trip is better than the trip itself (particularly if it rains the whole week you’re here on vacation)? So for most of the year, Bemus lived in our imaginations as the greatest spot on earth because it was associated with vacation – kicking back, the lake, rockers at the Lenhart, the family together. Maybe this year we’ll go to Panama Rocks, we’d say to each other, and then slyly shake our heads, knowing that it would never be the year for the rocks….
So when a place lives like this in your imagination, you get that iconic image of it in your head so that when you see it, your shoulders relax, a smile spreads across your face, and you’re in a position to – as they say today – live the dream. So we would always drive as a family from Boston, and we’d reach that moment of connection on 86 as you’re climbing up out of Jamestown and have your first vista of the lake. Time to celebrate!!
But on one trip in 1992 we were not stopping here. We were driving through to Meadville to go to our son’s college graduation. So along about midnight, here we were my wife and I and the 3 kids aged 14, 12, and 5 blasting along in the Dodge Caravan, everyone except the driver sacked out in a unique way. Two kids stretched out on the bench seats in back, the co-pilot dozing while sitting, and mom stretched out of the floor- wedged by the sliding door.
And let’s remember – part of the aura of Bemus is its position at the crossroads of the lake and how it can be seen from the bridge, so imagine how perfect it was when we were cruising over the bridge at midnight, the road to ourselves, and out of the blue, maybe sensing that something special was happening, my wife wakes up and looks out the window just as we fly by the Casino, and asks, is this a dream or is this real?” “It’s both,” I said. And we laughed – and until we lived here, that was our most special Bemus Point moment.