The sun was high in a cloudless blue sky, blazing down upon the bleached black top when we finally pulled into the driveway of our Great Aunt Lina’s beach house. It was the beginning of August 1960, and it had been a sweltering drive from our home, taking almost five hours, including the restroom breaks. We had set out at 6:30 that morning, with mom shouting at us to finish our breakfasts and help load the luggage and other items in the car. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
I was eleven years old and rode shotgun with my mother, and my younger brother and sister rode in the back. They had fallen asleep on the long drive. “Kathy,” mom said as she turned off the engine and got out of the car, \u201cwake up your brother and sister; we have to bring the luggage and other items inside.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I got out of the car, stretching my arms and shaking legs that had cramped up a bit on the long ride. Then calling my siblings, opened the back door, giving them a gentle shake. “Come on, wake up sleepy heads. We’ve arrived. Mom needs help bringing the stuff inside.”\u00a0 John, who was eight years old, woke up first. We’re here,” \u00a0\u00a0cried happily. Nancy, two years younger, took a bit longer to wake from her slumber; giving a yawn and using both hands to rub her eyes, she finally became alert. “Yeah,” she yelled and quickly followed her brother out of the car with the sucking sounds\u00a0of skin unsticking from\u00a0vinyl.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It took almost twenty minutes to unload the car, with mom and I doing most of the work. Mom emptied the cooler we had brought with us, already filled with Potato, chicken salad, and other prepared items she had made at home. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Aunt Lina and her husband had vacationed in Sea Isle City every summer for years. Uncle John was in construction, and in 1940 when he found they were planning a new development, using connections, he was able to get this lot for next to nothing. He had built this home, using his carpentry and construction skills, with the help of family and friends, including our dad, who was 15 years old at the time. That was 25 years ago, and family had vacationed here every year since.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
This year we would have it primarily to ourselves with Aunt Lena, who would be driving down with father at the end of the week. Unfortunately, this was a busy time at our father\u2019s employment, and therefore would only be able to spend the next week with us here. But he promised to drive down on weekends whenever possible. Aunt Lena was now a widow whose only son had died in a motorcycle accident in his twenties. Our dad’s mother was her sister, and sadly she had died of cancer before we were born. We thought of our Aunt Lena as our grandmother.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The house was a two-story A frame with a screened-in front porch that sometimes doubled as a sleeping porch on hot, muggy nights. The first floor had three small bedrooms, a bath, a living room with a fireplace, and an eat-in kitchen at the back of the house. The bedrooms on this floor were for the adults.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The second floor was a large sleeping loft area with three twin beds, covered with faded chenille bedspreads. There was a half bath towards the back of the room, next to a closet-lined wall with hanging space and shelving to hold clothing. This loft was where my siblings and I would sleep.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
After helping mom put the groceries away and stowing our clothing and items where they belonged, mom told us to change into our bathing suits. While doing that, she made chicken salad sandwiches, putting them into a small cooler with a few bananas. Then filled a picnic thermos with iced tea. Calling to me to get the beach blanket and yelling for my siblings to make sure they had their beach towels, each of us carrying something in tow, we slowly made our way the few blocks to the beach. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
The boardwalk of Sea Isle City was lined on both sides with shops, arcades, restaurants, food kiosks, and an amusement park peer. It even had a hotel, and theatre, and along with the beach, was the town’s recreational meeting place. Day and night throughout the summer, it would be filled with a chorus of children laughing and shouting, running, or riding bikes. Their parents sat on benches or leaned against the railings, socializing with other town folk and vacationers. The sounds of merchants hawking their wares, food or otherwise, the ping , ping coming from the arcades, and the roar of voices screaming on the rides filled the senses. Over the din, the aroma of hot dogs roasting on the grill, curly fries, corn on the cob dripping with melted butter, and thirst-quenching fresh lemonade were like mesmerizers calling our name. We would not complete our vacation without purchasing at least five boxes of saltwater taffy, for ourselves and as gifts for family and friends.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
We would be glad to have these sights and sounds burned into our memory. Unbeknownst to us at the time, two years from now all of this would be gone. In 1962 a nor\u2019easter storm ravaged the town, destroying buildings and bringing the old wooden boardwalk to an end. Many homes were either damaged or destroyed. Ours would be greatly damaged, a promenade would take the place of the boardwalk, and people would re-build, but it would never be the same.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Crossing the boardwalk, we walked down the few sand-covered steps that led to the beach. After touching the sand with our bare toes, and yelping, we quickly donned our flip-flops again. Mom chose a spot for the blanket where she could keep an eye on all of us, not too far from the water’s edge. After spreading the blanket and setting up our items, mom sent me to the beach umbrella kiosk to secure an umbrella and a sand chair for her and have the attendant set it up for us. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
It was now 1 pm, and although we were all a bit hungry, we knew mom would not allow us into the water right after we ate. Whooping and hollering, we ran to the water’s edge, dipping our feet into the water to gauge the temperature. John walked right in, saying through chattering teeth and making a thumbs-up gesture that the water was \u201cjust right.\u201d Then without another word, fearless, walked further into the water, so he could \u201cride the wave\u201d to the shore. Nancy held onto my hand, and we took tentative steps into the water, both of us taking our time to adjust to the water’s temperature before wading in any further. We all knew how to swim. Mom and Dad were swimmers; in fact, that is how they met. Dad was a lifeguard during the summers at this beach, and Mom was vacationing with her family. It was a love of swimming and surfing that brought them together. We had been taking swimming lessons at the local YWCA since we could walk.,<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mom stood at the water’s edge, the surf flowing over her feet. One hand on her big, floppy hat, her white cover-up flowing in the breeze, peering out at us and the sea through her sunglasses. Then, quickly, before she might change her mind, she took off her cover-up, placed her hat and sunglasses on top of them, ran into the swell, then dived into the crest of a wave. Coming up for air, mom laughed, shook the water out of her eyes, and began swimming, keeping us in her eyesight the entire time. After a while, cooled off, she came out and sat down on the sand, using her discarded cover-up as a towel, and stayed to supervise us for a while. A half hour or so later, she called us back to the blanket and had us dry off. Then, she rubbed us down well with Coppertone suntan lotion and had us help to put it on her back. That done, we hungrily ate our sandwiches and drank iced tea.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
For the next half hour, we amused ourselves by making sandcastles with moats and John digging a hole with his hands and had Nancy cover him with it. Mom looked up from the book in her hand, checked her watch in our beach bag, and announced we could go back in the water if we wanted. Just then, we were pleasantly surprised to hear voices familiar to us. We had become good friends with the Bailey family over the years of vacationing here. They also had three children, one girl, six months older than me, and two boys, John and Nancy’s ages. We all helped Mrs. Bailey set up their beach blanket next to us and left our moms chatting away as we grouped together. We spent the rest of the afternoon tossing a frisbee on the beach, kicking and throwing a beach ball, and taking dips in the water together. We had a fun time bringing each other up to speed on what we did throughout the year.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The Bailey’s stayed in their Grandparents’ beach house the next street over from ours and easy walking distance, especially since we cut through our neighbors\u2019 yards. We usually got together at each other’s homes in the evenings on weekends, sometimes for barbecues or to meet up at the boardwalk. We children spent much of our time together, either at the beach or the playground. Mrs. Bailey\u2019s husband could not take more than a week off from work, so he usually came down on long weekends like our father, and both had become good friends over the years.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Before we knew it, my mom called us to get our things together, and we made our way up to the boardwalk, washing our feet at the waterspouts and tiredly making our way home. Mom would not let us go into the house until we had all used the outdoor shower and rinsed off the sea and sand from ourselves and our beach toys, shaking out the beach towels and blanket and hanging them on the clothesline to air dry. We went inside to each take a shower and change. Then, we plopped down on the living room sofa and tried to see what we could get on the TV. I had to play with the rabbit ears for a bit, but it was too early; nothing was on except news and some adult stuff<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mom called us into the kitchen for dinner, and we set the table while mom finished making our plates. It was a simple meal for our first night here. Potato salad, hot dogs, and baked beans. “When your father gets here,” mom began, “we will go to the boardwalk and visit the arcade and rides.” “Remember, this will not be an everyday occasion,” then seeing our downcast expressions said, \u201cYou can still ride your bikes over to the Bailey\u2019s and go to the playground after we come home from the beach; just as long as you are home; by supper time.” Then she told us to help clear the table and afterward gave us each a Freezy Pop, which surprisingly made the long drive from home well frozen in the cooler.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
After we finished our pops, we went out to the screen porch. A lazy overhead fan, blades humming, helped to combat the heat of the day. I sat on the swinging love seat and picked up my Nancy Drew book and continued reading “The Secret in the Old Clock.” I was excited when my mom surprised me with this gift to take along for our vacation. I was hoping that the library here might have a copy, but considering how popular the series was, I could only hope. An avid reader, Mom spared no effort to encourage a love of reading in all of us. Joannie Bailey had finished with the next book in the series and said she would loan it to me when I finished with this one. John was playing with his matchbox cars, making them zoom across the floor, sometimes crashing against the furniture, as he made up stories about them. Nancy was lying on the area rug, her faithful box of Crayola crayons beside her, carefully coloring in the lines of her Sleeping Beauty coloring book.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It was growing dark outside; nighttime sounds drifted in, seagulls screeching at the shore, the sounds of tv programs playing in neighboring houses, someone listening to a radio or a phonograph. The night had cooled, and John and Nancy’s eyes were drooping from the day’s events. Mom called us in to wash up, brush our teeth and get ready for bed. We were too tired to complain and marched up to the sleeping loft. The windows were open, screens protecting us from mosquitos and other flying insects, and the sound of waves crashing against the shore and ocean breeze caressed our skin, bringing the clean smell of sea air. Before pulling up our sheets, we were drifting into La La land, thinking of all the fun things we would be doing in the coming weeks. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The sun was high in a cloudless blue sky, blazing down upon the bleached black top when we finally pulled into the driveway of our Great Aunt Lina’s beach house. It was the beginning of August 1960, and it had been a … Continue reading