In the late 80’s my mom drove a sandalwood Ford Taurus station wagon with a seat that popped up in what we called “the back back.” It was the premium spot for long journeys like the one to the Jersey Shore so we had to take turns sitting there.
Growing up, we didn’t go on vacation like most families. My father worked all the time so it was my mother who took us on short trips to visit my grandmother and her two sisters who spent the summer in Wildwood.
Helen, Sis and Ann rented a small two bedroom apartment at the Sunnyside Motel on 13th and Surf. When the three of us arrived it was definitely close quarters. One double bed, two twin beds and a fold out sofa allowed just enough room for the six of us.
Upon our arrival I'd walk a few blocks to the Little Giant Market for a loaf of bread and a game of Donkey Kong. My grandmom always made sure we were well fed and had a good time. Pizza at Mack’s, Curley’s Fries, Sea Shell Ice Cream and Samuel’s Pancakes were all consumed on a daily basis. On occasion we would have to get fancy and go to Ed Zaberers or Duffy’s on the Lake, but she also made sure she treated us to a day at Raging Waters Water Park as well as several rounds of miniature golf at Hassles.
We would hit the beach, but never for more than a few hours. My brother and I both preferred the boardwalk, not for the rides but for the games. Each night we’d spend our allowance playing games and earning tickets, which we’d cash in for prizes. Sometimes we’d spend an entire summer saving for one big item like a Sony Watchman. Inevitably there would be a surplus after attaining said item which left us with a plethora or trinkets like Chinese finger traps and plastic kazoos.
My mom always felt better about us spending our money on something that would yield us something rather than waste it on the crane game, which we did play our fair share of, especially the summer when the coveted prize was a large white plastic mug with a California Raisins logo printed on it.
On the last day of our visit we would go to the boardwalk and stock up on fudge and saltwater taffy before making the long trip home during which I would listen to one of the two cassettes I owned, Bruce Springsteen Born in the USA or the Beach Boys Greatest hits Volume 1.
I’m happy to reminisce on these times, but sad for the reason I have done it on the past two anniversaries of my brother’s passing. They say a picture is worth a thousand memories, but I think that just one memory is worth thousands more.
Growing up, we didn’t go on vacation like most families. My father worked all the time so it was my mother who took us on short trips to visit my grandmother and her two sisters who spent the summer in Wildwood.
Helen, Sis and Ann rented a small two bedroom apartment at the Sunnyside Motel on 13th and Surf. When the three of us arrived it was definitely close quarters. One double bed, two twin beds and a fold out sofa allowed just enough room for the six of us.
Upon our arrival I'd walk a few blocks to the Little Giant Market for a loaf of bread and a game of Donkey Kong. My grandmom always made sure we were well fed and had a good time. Pizza at Mack’s, Curley’s Fries, Sea Shell Ice Cream and Samuel’s Pancakes were all consumed on a daily basis. On occasion we would have to get fancy and go to Ed Zaberers or Duffy’s on the Lake, but she also made sure she treated us to a day at Raging Waters Water Park as well as several rounds of miniature golf at Hassles.
We would hit the beach, but never for more than a few hours. My brother and I both preferred the boardwalk, not for the rides but for the games. Each night we’d spend our allowance playing games and earning tickets, which we’d cash in for prizes. Sometimes we’d spend an entire summer saving for one big item like a Sony Watchman. Inevitably there would be a surplus after attaining said item which left us with a plethora or trinkets like Chinese finger traps and plastic kazoos.
My mom always felt better about us spending our money on something that would yield us something rather than waste it on the crane game, which we did play our fair share of, especially the summer when the coveted prize was a large white plastic mug with a California Raisins logo printed on it.
On the last day of our visit we would go to the boardwalk and stock up on fudge and saltwater taffy before making the long trip home during which I would listen to one of the two cassettes I owned, Bruce Springsteen Born in the USA or the Beach Boys Greatest hits Volume 1.
I’m happy to reminisce on these times, but sad for the reason I have done it on the past two anniversaries of my brother’s passing. They say a picture is worth a thousand memories, but I think that just one memory is worth thousands more.
