Well folks… somehow we made it.

The first-ever Southern Illinois Meet & Greet is officially in the books, and I have to admit something right up front: When I came up with this idea, I had absolutely no idea what I was doing. None. Zero. I had an idea, a campground, a calendar, and apparently far more confidence than good sense. At some point I must have thought, “How hard could it be to get a bunch of campers together for a few days in Southern Illinois?” That sentence should probably be printed on a warning label.

The Original Plan

The idea was actually pretty simple. Dawn and I are incredibly lucky to live in Southern Illinois. We have beautiful state parks, lakes, hiking trails, wineries, orchards, small towns, roadside restaurants, forests, and some absolutely incredible scenery. I wanted to share some of that with people. I also wanted to prove something those of us down here have known for years: There really is an Illinois south of Chicago. We have houses. We have roads. We have electricity. Most of us even have indoor plumbing. And contrary to popular belief, we do not have to drive to Chicago every Tuesday to pick up supplies. So I thought it would be fun to invite people down here, get everyone together, show off Southern Illinois a little bit, eat some good food, sit around campfires, tell stories, laugh, and have a relaxing few days. That was the plan. Then Mother Nature looked at my plan and apparently said: “That’s adorable.”

Welcome to the Surface of the Sun

What I did NOT put on the itinerary was: Survive temperatures normally associated with the surface of Mercury. Out of the four days of the Meet & Greet, three of them set record-high temperatures. Not “we tied the record.” Not “we beat it by one degree.” Oh no. Southern Illinois doesn’t do anything halfway. One day we beat the previous record by about 13 degrees. The heat index hovered somewhere around 105 to 109 degrees. At that point, I stopped checking the weather because I figured the next forecast was going to say: “Mostly sunny. High of 147. Chance of spontaneous combustion after lunch.” I had imagined cool September evenings. Campfires. People sitting around outside. Maybe somebody wearing a sweatshirt. Instead, everybody was walking around looking like we were participating in some kind of senior-citizen survival reality show. Naked and Afraid: RV Edition. Needless to say, there were no campfires. Quite frankly, I think if somebody had rubbed two sticks together, the entire campground would have ignited. At one point, I was pretty sure you could have cooked a bratwurst by laying it on the picnic table.

And Yet… Everybody Showed Up

Here is the part that really surprised me. Everybody still came out. That absolutely amazed me. Wednesday night we kicked things off with our hot dog get-together. Normally, hot dogs are cooked using some form of heat. That week, I’m pretty sure we could have just held them outside for six minutes. But people came. They brought snacks. They sat around. They visited. They laughed. And yes, we all sweated. A lot. There are probably people who lost five pounds during the Meet & Greet and never took a single step on a hiking trail. By the end of the evening, I looked like I had just finished a Marine Corps forced march through Vietnam. But nobody complained. Okay… Maybe we complained a little. Actually, we probably complained quite a bit. But we complained together, which somehow made it better.

Then Came the Potluck

Friday night’s potluck was something else. I have seen Thanksgiving dinners. I have seen church potlucks. I have eaten in military chow halls. I have attended family reunions where three different people brought enough potato salad to feed the population of a small Midwestern town. But Friday night was on another level. There was food EVERYWHERE. Apparently, everyone interpreted “bring a dish” as: “Prepare for a seven-month siege.” We ate. Then we ate some more. Then everybody sat around for a few minutes pretending we were done. Then we went back and ate again. By the time it was over, I think most of us needed to be transported back to our campers on flatbed trailers. And there was STILL food left. Enough to feed a small Army. Possibly a large Army. Maybe the entire Illinois National Guard. Nobody was going hungry at this event. That much I got right.

Showing Off Southern Illinois

During the week, people headed out all over Southern Illinois. Some made the trip to Garden of the Gods. Others visited wineries, orchards, Bald Knob Cross, the Quilt Museum, local restaurants, and plenty of other places around the area. Some people discovered places they had never been before. Some came back and told us about their adventures. And I’m fairly certain a few people just drove around in their air-conditioned vehicles because it was the only sensible thing to do. Honestly, I couldn’t blame them. By the third record-breaking day, “touring Southern Illinois” could have meant driving slowly past the attractions without lowering the windows.

Somewhere Along the Way, It Became More Than an Event

Despite the heat, despite things not always going exactly according to plan, people kept showing up. That is the part Dawn and I will remember. Because this event was never really about hot dogs. Or potlucks. Or entertainment. Or sightseeing. Those things were great. But somewhere along the way, this became about the people. People talking around picnic tables. People laughing together. People telling camping stories. People helping each other. People who may not have known each other before the week started sitting around like old friends a few days later. That was something I honestly didn’t expect. And it humbled me. I started this thing because I thought it might be fun. I figured a few people would come. We would hang around the campground, tell a few stories, eat some food, and everybody would head home. Instead, I stood there several times during the week and thought: “Holy cow. This actually worked.”

Did I Know What I Was Doing?

Before anybody starts thinking I suddenly know what I’m doing, let’s clear that up immediately. I don’t. I spent a good portion of the week figuring things out as we went. Hosting my first Meet & Greet was a lot like assembling IKEA furniture without the instructions. You keep turning pieces around. Occasionally you say words you shouldn’t say in front of children. At some point you discover three extra screws. And when you’re finished, you stand back, look at it, and say: “Well… it’s standing.” That’s pretty much how I felt. Did everything go perfectly? Absolutely not. Were there things I should have done differently? Absolutely. Did I occasionally wonder what possessed me to volunteer for this? Let’s just say the thought may have crossed my mind. Once or twice. An hour. But I learned a tremendous amount. And that is exactly what a first event is supposed to do.

Improvise, Adapt, Overcome

I had an old Gunnery Sergeant who used to remind us that plans don’t always survive contact with reality. His version contained considerably more colorful Marine Corps language, but the basic lesson was simple: Improvise. Adapt. Overcome. Get the job done. That mindset came in handy this week. Because sometimes the plan changes. Sometimes the weather refuses to cooperate. Sometimes something doesn’t work the way you expected. And sometimes Mother Nature decides to test your entire campground like a tray of cookies in an Easy-Bake Oven. You deal with it. You adjust. And you keep going.

The Part I Didn’t Expect

Once something like this starts, you realize it isn’t just an event anymore. It becomes memories. People. Stories. Inside jokes. The kind of things you’ll talk about later. I’m sure years from now somebody will mention the first Southern Illinois Meet & Greet and the immediate response will be: “Was that the year it was 107 degrees?” Yes. Yes it was. We didn’t host a Meet & Greet. We survived one. But we survived it together.

Thank You

That is why I want to say thank you. Thank you to everyone who came. Thank you for braving temperatures that would have made Satan ask for a fan. Thank you for bringing food. Thank you for participating. Thank you for exploring our little corner of Illinois. Thank you for laughing when things didn’t go according to plan. Thank you for being patient with a first-time host who was occasionally making things up approximately 30 seconds before they happened. Most of all, thank you for taking a crazy idea that existed in my head and turning it into something far bigger and better than I expected. Dawn and I are truly humbled. Standing there and seeing everyone visiting, laughing, eating, and enjoying themselves meant more to us than you probably realize.

And Yes… We’re Doing It Again

So yes. There will be another one. The 2027 Southern Illinois Meet & Greet is happening. I apparently did not learn my lesson. But next time I’ll know a little more. We’ll improve a few things. We’ll change a few things. We’ll probably come up with some new ideas. And maybe — just maybe — I’ll negotiate a little harder with Mother Nature before everyone arrives. I’m not asking for much. Maybe 72 degrees. A light breeze. Low humidity. Campfire weather. At this point, I’d settle for anything below: “Melt the lawn chairs.” To everyone who joined us for the first Southern Illinois Meet & Greet, safe travels home. Stay in touch. Keep camping. Keep making memories. And hopefully we’ll see every one of you — along with some new faces — in 2027. Thank you for making our first Meet & Greet something Dawn and I will never forget. And to Mother Nature: We’ve already picked the dates for next year. Please behave yourself. See you in 2027.