We didn't have a fan, let alone air conditioning. And television in a trailer was a ridiculous concept. We did, however, have a pink Coleman cooler and a broom.
After we moved to Spokane, Dad would sometimes drag the trailer up to Van Dissel's Waitts Lake Resort. Van Dissel would stomp around in his overalls and rubber boots maintaining his fleet of plywood fishing barges. He walked like Groucho Marx. Mom and Dad would head out fishing before the sun was up and for breakfast Mom would fry up a mess of fresh rainbow trout dredged in cornmeal.
In August of 1967 we missed the final episode of The Fugitive (a Quinn Martin production) because we were in the trailer at Waits Lake. As far as I know the "one-armed man" is still getting away with murder. One of the nearby trailers had a TV. I learned the meaning of the word "covet."
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