Our family was not really very good at beach vacations when I grew up. Mostly we visited relatives. Dad would load up the old Chrysler and drive on toward California up through Laramie, Wyoming so they could stop off and say Hi to Mom’s brother Daryle and his family. In one trip in the fifties I remember there were no Interstates to speak of. Just big old two lane highways that made passing a bear.
As I remember Dad did 95% of the driving. He would make a job of it driving 800 at least a day. There were no convenient rest stops along the highway so we had to scurry into the sometimes questionable gas station rest rooms. At that time gas stations didn’t sell cokes, Twinkies and chips, but sold their core competency – gasoline and service. Once you drove over the rubber tube the bell would alert the gas station attendant to hop to it and serve you. He would hurry out to greet you, flip open your gas cap and start pumping gas. While the gas was filling up all your windows would be washed, oil changed and a smile to boot.
Boy we have come a long way. Dad would get out of the car to chat with other folks getting gas and carefully watch that his car was being properly serviced. Then off we would go to the next stretch of highway.
We didn’t stop to see stuff much. Mostly just drove and drove toward our destination. We didn’t plan how far we could drive as this was a marathon after all. Mom would read the map and Dad would decide if we could make it to the next town and look for a motel. Places were seedy I’m sure by today’s standards of lodging. Dad would do the negotiating for price and Mom would check out the room for cleanliness before the deal to stay there was struck. We didn’t die of germs so I guess everything was reasonability acceptable.
One trip in the early 1950’s when I was under age 10 we went to California and stopped at Dad’s Aunt Freda and Uncle Elmer Johnson’s house in Pasadena. I think Uncle Elmer worked in the railroad. Aunt Freda was a housewife. They had lots of trees with the most beautiful flowers. Much different from the farm country in Greeley. Aunt Freda was a real trend setter. They had of all things a television. Of course, we didn’t have just an extravagance at that at our home in Greeley. The radio was the main stay.
I was mesmerized and haven’t stopped being glued to the TV set from that day forward. The TV was a big oak piece of furniture with a glass screen about a foot square. The picture was black and white. I enjoyed the children’s shows early in the morning. I’m sure Mom and Aunt Freda enjoyed having me quietly sit and watch it too. That was the big time with Ed Sullivan and Jackie Gleason. Not my Mom’s favorites, but we watched them as Dad liked them. I remember my Grandma, Anna, loved to watch boxing. Go figure.
We stayed in Aunt Freda’s guest room. My dad was a pretty hefty guy most of his life. He sat on the foot of the bed rail to put his shoes on and cracked the rail. He was so embarrassed for breaking the furniture due to his weight. I remember he tried to pay for the bed rail or repairs, but Aunt Freda would have nothing to do with that. He is probably still trying to pay from his grave.
Another highlight was going to Disneyland. This was about the first year it was opened. It was a delight to behold. I had my photo taken in front of a big ole whale with my goofy hat that went quack, quack. I still have the hat with my name embroidered on the back. There wasn’t the same branding push through the media as we have today as most families didn’t even have TVs yet and for sure the internet was just a dream to come some fifty years later.
Dad had some old silent movies he played for us at family gatherings. One of them must have been the original Mickey Mouse character totting around in a cartoon clip. He was one skinny mouse. Not the cute cuddly chubby mouse that we know today.
We probably went to the beach to stick out toe in and squish some sand between our toes while carrying our shoes walking along the surf.
When I married Stan my vacations to California changed to years of visiting various beaches along the coast. He grew up in New York and vacation to him involved beaches. Next week we are going to Cape Cod with our son’s family. His 10 month old daughter Anya has already learned the fun of sand in her toes and the salty taste of ocean water.