Cave-in at Cliff Condos

Mom was right. I should have listened to her. She told us she didn’t want us to go. She had a feeling someone was going to get hurt — she was right. That night, I lost my best friend in the cave-in.

From the bottom of the ravine, I looked up at what was once Cliff Condos, not believing what had just happened.

Originally, the lot had been left vacant by the builder. He said that nothing could be built on it; the cliff was too dangerous. He was wrong.

In less than three years, we had successfully carved Cliff Condos — a five-room cave for us boys — into the 30-foot limestone cliff.

But in an instant, it had all been destroyed. Everyone left inside was now covered in tons of dirt – helpless – with no way to dig out and no way to get air.

As I brushed the fine silt from my jeans, a gray dust cloud settled around us. Nervously, I gazed halfway back up the cliff. A five-ton boulder, the size of our dark green station wagon with faux wood panels, now occupied the space of our condo’s master bedroom. The condo was now completely collapsed!

As tears streamed down my face, I stood in stunned silence. All I could think about was that it could have easily been me under that boulder. Instead, my best friend lay hopelessly buried, and there was nothing anyone could do to save him.

Only four hours earlier we’d finished Cliff Condos. The five of us: Twin Brother Mark, Neighbor Thomas, Bubba Hanks, Goofy Steve and I were going to sleep in our cave dwelling for the very first time. Big Brother James and Older Brother Richard would have been there too, but they were off at a football camp.

We ran home and returned with our sleeping bags and nighttime supplies. Bubba brought snacks for everyone; Goof brought a pail of water balloons; Thomas brought Mason jars for catching lightning bugs, and Mike brought jumbo marshmallows. They would have tasted better if he hadn’t crammed them in his pockets. I, of course, brought Teddy. At 8, I never slept without Teddy.

Teddy had long ago lost the battle with time. He only had one left eye, most of his fur was now matted, and more than one bald spot from chewing gum was left on his head. But I didn’t care. Dad had given me Teddy on my fifth birthday, and he had been my sleep partner ever since.

We climbed up the cliff wall using the hand and foot holds we had dug during construction and stored our stuff in our rooms. I unrolled my sleeping bag in the master bedroom and tucked Teddy in, leaving only his brown head exposed. As I crawled outside, I glanced back. Teddy was there, as he always was, waiting for me to come to bed.

For the next hour we built a camp fire, roasted marshmallows, had not one but two water balloon fights, and devoured most of the snacks that Bubba had brought. A little after 10, it was time for bed.

That’s when we heard the rumbling. At first we thought it was Bubba’s stomach. He had eaten a lot of candy and gooey marshmallows that night.

It was Thomas who saw it first. He just stood there, frozen, with his mouth open as he pointed towards the limestone cliff. For a moment, I thought he swallowed a lightning bug. Then I turned just in time to see the huge boulder fall.

A gray cloud of dust swept down over us as the deep thud rumbled through our bodies. The boulder not only squished all of our sleeping bags — it also squished Teddy.

Since that day, I’ve seen many Christmases, birthdays, and Father’s Days. Hopefully, I will see many more. Through the years, I’ve received ash trays, even though I’ve never smoked. And ties, even though I never wear them, and countless trinkets, gadgets, and cards.

But the one gift I’ve really wanted, I have yet to receive: A simple, inexpensive gift of a little brown bear, one with most of his fur already matted. He has one left eye and more than one bald spot from chewing gum. A sleep bear named Teddy.