Edgewater Beach

I suppose every family has its favorite vacation spot. For us growing up, it was Bagnell Dam at the Lake of the Ozarks. Year after year, we returned to the same place: Edgewater Beach Resort.

It was probably built in the 1940s—a simple cluster of cabins nestled right along the lakefront. They weren’t fancy by any means, but there was a comfort to them, like slipping into a well-worn blanket. From our cabin windows, you could see the dam off in the distance, always humming in the background like a quiet reminder that we were away from home.

The first thing you’d see as you pulled into Edgewater was the swimming pool. My sister and I spent countless hours there, the smell of chlorine and the sound of splashing water forever tied to our summer memories.

Edgewater Beach sat right on what most would call The Strip—a stretch packed with old-school motels, neon-lit shops, carnival games, and every kind of tourist trap you could imagine. As we got older, my sister and I would walk The Strip on our own, shopping, stopping for ice cream or grabbing a burger, feeling just grown-up enough.

While they were still alive, both of my grandmothers would come with us on these trips. I can still picture the six of us packed into my parents’ Mustang. At the time, it didn’t feel cramped at all—but thinking back now, it must have been!

Grandma Lubker, in particular, always seemed to find a special kind of peace at the lake. If I remember the story right, she, my dad and my grandfather had visited Edgewater together before he died. Maybe that’s why she loved it so much—maybe, in some way, she felt his presence there.

Edgewater Beach is long gone now. On my last visit to the lake, all that remained was the sign—faded and weathered, like a memory holding on. Most of the vacationers have moved farther down Route 54, chasing newer resorts and bigger thrills.

But for me, Edgewater will always be the place where summer lived. Where my family laughed together, where the air smelled like sunscreen and fried food, and where I was a kid who still believed in magic.