Rambling Down the Parkway: TC Ponders the Shore…

Memorial Day is the unofficial kick-off of the Summer season. For folks in Jersey and PA, that often means trips to “Da Shore.” A sentimental TC unveils some childhood memories in this essay. Read on! —the editor

Our family blocked out the last two weeks of June for our Shore visit. Just after school let out and before the summering herds arrived (Think Fourth of July revelers).

Renting a house near the beach made a lot of sense when there are six siblings (with friends!).

While classmates used to travel the Garden State Parkway to Long Branch (exit 105), Seaside Heights (exit 82), even Long Beach Island (exit 63), we Gladues kept on driving.

We passed Atlantic City (exit 37) and Ocean City (exit 25). Kept. On. Driving.

To the tips?

Close. We drove so far that we had actual traffic lights on the Garden State Parkway.

Our “Exit” was 10 — the second light, and we had a left turn (no overpass!!).

Then, a mere 4 miles later, we crossed the bridge, and entered 96th Street. Downtown Stone Harbor.

You Have Arrived…

So depending on the time of day and day of the week, our excursion was a mere 3 hours with a couple of stops.

96th Street was a welcomed sight. It had tons of shops and 2 (two !!) movie theaters. Tons of people too. Understandably so.

Leaving North Jersey meant… we were in Phillies/Eagles territory.

We rented a house for two weeks, always in Stone Harbor, with the exception of one year in Avalon. That year we had a rare storm arrived during that time, Hurricane Agnes.

One of the houses we rented was on 98th Street. It could fit all of us, and maybe a friend or two. We could walk downtown, one block to basketball court and shuffleboard courts. An arcade was 2 blocks away. The beach alone was 2 houses down from us.

Sun Block Anyone??

Avon sold my mother on what we called “Arctic 3000” sunblock. The SPF was… Let’s just say that kids from Madison used to make fun of us NOT looking like we were at the beach for two weeks.

Amusing Myself at The Shore…

Even though I loved playing in the sand —yes, I built shopping malls instead of sand castles— I spent my share of time watching television from Philadelphia.

???

Part of the motivation to embrace “Shore TV” is that we had cable which we didn’t have up north (rabbit ears anyone?). Philly local stations had better kids television. It was no wonder we were pasty white after a summer at the shore (not just from the Avon sunblock).

Fast Forward…

Things changed when my parents brought property. The summer of 1976, the year after my father invested in a 1975 AMC Pacer (buy American), they found a simple 50’s style Cape Cod Pre-Fab house located mid-block on the island, and 8 blocks from downtown.

With ownership came TWO visits a summer: our usual late June and then, we returned in the late Summer.

Why bring up the Pacer?

Well, the house on 103rd Street survived longer than the Pacer. In fact, the Pacer never had the chance. It failed big time during a drive back from Stone Harbor—scarily in the middle of a five lane highway.

[Curious? Read on for more about that “Classic” Pacer]

DIY Dad…

I went to Stone Harbor with my Dad and hung with him while he painted rooms in that house. The Shore, way off-season was cold, empty and very quiet. For year-rounders, nothing was open except a newsstand and TrueValue Hardware store.

The Segue to Truly Retired Living…

My parents had a couple of phases for their retirement.

Phase One took place on 103rd street after closing out our home in Madison. My Dad was actively involved in government and planning for the town. My Mom wrote a weekly column for the local paper (Cape May County Herald). Her reputation as a wordsmith, kept her busy with all kinds of newsletters and editing project too.
Phase Two occurred when they pulled up stakes and moved closer to us just outside of Atlantic City (remember? exit 37/38) into Smithville’s 50+ community.

That’s a Wrap!!

Peg, who will never feel sand (me neither as those days have passed), was intrigued when I showed her the photo of our motley crew on the beach at 98th Street. Like my mother, she started asking a bunch of questions.