Summer Story
I read the news today-”O’Boy”! I decided it is time to reflect on happy and positive memories once in a while.
To kick off the summer season here is chapter 1 of my Summer Story/ Harold’s Big Ball of String. About once a week I will share a chapter of my Summer Story which may be a brief relief from the tragedy in the Gulf and other events, not pleasant. Regular commentary will continue with other posts.
My Summer Story
Harold’s Big Ball of String
Chapter 1
When I was a kid June was an exciting month for more reasons than school ending . Our family headed to our summer home on a barrier island where we knew nearly all the summer residents and the beach and bay were our playground for the next 70 days.
The summer when I was nine or ten years old was special since that would be the summer when I could cross the streets without having my parents supervising. I would be able to go to the town dock and swim in the bay with all the other kids, unsupervised. Everyone at our beach community could swim like a fish several years before reaching the age when they could cross a street without parental supervision.
My service that school year as a school crossing guard gave me the credentials that assured my street crossing freedom to either the bay or to the beach. Thiswas a summer of crossing the streets and many adventures. It included one special event that is a memory of six decades, vividly recalled every year when the days lengthen and the temperature starts to warm up the ocean.
There was a start of the summer ritual with all the kids who spent their summer sailing, swimming, crabbing and body surfing in the ocean. On that first real summer weekend when all the kids from Philly were arriving for the summer there was a quick change into a bathing suit, shoes were shed and a dash was made down the road to the beach. It wasn’t exactly a dash since everyone still had winter feet and a little caution was needed on that first trip to the beach. A few weeks of barefoot seashore walking was needed to convert to summer feet.
There was no trouble finding our summer friends, since that first day at the beach involved tip toeing into the still cold Atlantic up to about ankle level with exclamations describing how cold it was. The gathering crowd of kids were hesitant to make the conversion from winter city dwellers to wave riding beach kids too quickly. There was always one kid who decided it was time to really start the summer by dashing into deeper water and diving into a wave. The traditional report to the more timid tip toe’rs was “ come on in , it’s not bad once you get wet.
Everyone followed and summer began.
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[...] Almost every day I found some string to contribute to Harold’s big ball and always got a big thanks for my contribution. The summer moved along and the string was part of it but the use was not much of a concern. It was just a part of an event filled summer and not yet a big deal. I had no clue as to what I would learn from that big ball of string later in the summer. Chapter 1 [...]