Holiday Weekend

Cape Cod, Massachusetts, July 1963. Mom's knitting bag is nearly within reach.

A Quick Trip to Provincetown

Provincetown, Massachusetts, July 1963. It's a touristy place.

The Life Box (Part 24)

Suburban Chicago, August 1964. I record my memory of the ride on the big boat.

Expectations

Hyannis Port, Massachusetts, July 1963. When we visited the area near the Kennedy Compound, I assumed we would see some famous people. Mom consoled me.

Still

Cape Cod, Massachusetts, July 1963. Summer will continue for three weeks, but the season ends.

The end of the tour.

Provincetown, Massachusetts, July 1963. It's a small tour boat.

Not Alone

Cape Cod, Massachusetts, July 1963. Dad's not far away.

Summer Lane

Cape Cod, Massachusetts, 1962. My Dad's twin sister, Jonė, and her husband, Kadis, have arrived.

Thanks to my Toronto Cousin for making this photo available to us.

We are leaving now.

My Parents took a month-long vacation each summer. Who takes off four consecutive weeks from work these days? My Mom and her medical partner made an arrangement for the annual holiday when they started working together. Extended vacations were more common where my Dad worked because things at the lab moved slowly in the summer.

I can't imagine being away from home for a month; after all, I start to anticipate the return almost as soon as I reach a destination. I don't recall whether my Parents paid bills in advance or what steps they took to secure the house. I do remember how Dad and I picked up the pile of mail that the Post Office had held during the interval. Oh: our dog, Gigi, spent the month with the woman who had given her to us.

We often stayed in places that had no phone service, so if something had happened back home, we were be difficult to reach. There were no televisions, and many of our (mountainous) destinations had spotty radio reception. As a result, we infrequently caught the news. We were in the Badlands, for example, when Dad saw a headline about the Richard Speck murders. I was glad we weren't in Chicago because I reasoned that if Speck hadn't been caught, then I would be hiding under my bed. We were in Austria in 1971 when we saw a German-language edition of TIME Magazine announcing "Satchmo is Dead."

My Best Friend and my paternal Grandmother, Tatjana, sent letters to me. I anxiously checked the mail at our lodgings each day. By the time the vacation ended, I was ready to go home.

Cape Cod, Massachusetts, July 1963. The best part of a vacation is its end.

Dunes

Cape Cod, Massachusetts, July 1963. Dad wore that polo shirt so often that when I look at this snapshot, I remember his scent.

What's in your bucket?

Cape Cod, Massachusetts, July 1963. I've stored my treasures.

Shaded Knitting

Cape Cod, Massachusetts, July 1963. Mom explains something to me while while she knits at the beach. Mom's hat might look familiar to you.

Splashy

Cape Cod, Massachusetts, July 1963. This photo is unusual because neither Mom nor I like being in the water. There are some images that suggest the opposite, but I don't remember ever enjoying a swim.

Staying bundled.

Cape Cod, Massachusetts, July 1963. Mom again has taken steps to shield me from the sun. That hat appeared earlier here.

Fireside

Cape Cod, Massachusetts, July 1963. Dad again must have used the self-timer for this shot because he looks like he raced into the frame just before the camera snapped. That happened often.

Summer Rental Cottage

Cape Cod, Massachusetts, July 1963. Here's another view of Mom's Buick, "The Swan," parked in front of our rental cottage.

Pilgrim's Tower

Provincetown, Massachusetts, July 1963. We've driven from our rental cottage to spend the day in town. I remember two things about the visit to Provincetown: (1) a lot of time passed as I watched Mom browse in a yarn shop; and (2) we ate lobster chowder, and I didn't like it.

Concert in the Park

Toronto, Ontario, Canada, July 1963. On our way to Cape Cod, we've stopped in Toronto to visit my Dad's twin sister, Jonė, her husband Kadis, and their daughter, my Toronto Cousin.

General Manners: Rinse off the sand before you go into the cottage.

Cape Cod, Massachusetts, July 1963. Dad runs his feet under the shower after a day at the beach.

Busy Beach

Cape Cod, Massachusetts, July 1963. Mom's knitting under the sunbrella, and I am digging around in the sand. I never understood the appeal of sitting on a crowded beach.