Summertime is traditionally a time for families to go on vacation. That was definitely true for my family while my brother and I were growing up. My family was considered middle class, my Dad worked for IBM, and my Mom was a housewife, though when she and Dad met, they were both working for IBM, and she was actually making more than he was! Rather unusual for a woman in the 1950s, but that was the case.

Typically, we stuck to the eastern seaboard for our vacations. Family was either in the Hudson Valley, central NY (Syracuse) and Ohio, though after some of our older cousins got married and moved away, we were able to visit places like Baltimore and even further into the south to make contact with them. The furthest north we went was Maine one summer, Kennebunkport to be exact, before a certain Presidential family made the area famous. Too, we went on several trips sponsored by Dad’s employer, traveling with other IBM families and making an expensive trip more affordable.

Even when we weren’t traveling, we managed to have a good time at our house. Our property had everything we needed to have a good time, and my parents’ foresight of keeping the trees around the house made a good shady area to play in, and I had a rather large sand pile to use my Tonka trucks in. Fortunately, in ’71 a family moved into the neighborhood that had 5 boys, 2 of which were my brother’s age and mine. So, instant playmates. The older brothers joined in for baseball, softball and football, also kickball and we managed to have a really good time in our neighborhood for many years. I often wonder when I revisit the cul-de-sac if the bones of the old treehouse are still in the woods behind what was the Mays’ residence, or the camping area that we made under the very large spruce behind the rock wall still has some remnants of the items that we undoubtedly left there. After 50 years? Possible.

One of the places that we went often was Cape Cod. It gave us the opportunity to experience the Atlantic Ocean, and there were many things to do for families in the area. I’m not positive this is the correct picture for the time that I got caught in an undertow and was almost dragged out to sea. Fortunately, in that area there were lifeguards, and one of them saved me from drowning. Still very grateful to that fellow, I expect he’s well into his 80s or 90s now. I doubt he remembered me; I certainly remembered him.

Another favorite location were Vermont and New Hampshire. The proximity of Canada from either state was a draw for my parents, since both played golf. Us kids were content staying at the hotel where we typically rented, there was plenty for us to do while they were gone, and many college students made money as ‘camp counselors‘ keeping an eye on groups of kids from out of state, and making a bit of money for the trouble. I remember several of them fondly, they were from different parts of the US, but some were from the immediate area. We all had a good time, and our parents were able to scoot across the border (remember, this was the 1970s, all you needed was your state driver’s license to get across, nothing more) play 18 holes or more and be back before dusk. Definitely a good time had by all.

Honestly, I just had to add this picture. It just says a lot about me and my brother, that has sadly been lost to time. My brother and I are separated by 11 months exactly. Every year on the 3rd of July, we’re one year apart in age until the 3rd of August. It always tickled me having that conundrum. Someone would ask my Mother “How old are they?” and Mom would inevitably answer “2 years” because of the difference in years of birth, ’63 & ’65. But there was that quirk in the background and it just reminded me of how close we really are in terms of age.

We always had fun together. And were fairly inseparable for a long time. That’s not really the case now, because well, reasons. But those kids in that picture are having a blast. And seeing them does make me smile.

Happy Summer, All.