In one of my blogs last week I mentioned an incident in which my cousin Liz and I drove a scale model gas engine Tin Lizzie through the screened porch of my childhood home on Pokonoket. My recollection of the event was that it happened when we were about 10 or 11 years old.
However, my cousin Liz corrected me and reminded me that we were more like 15 and 16 and certainly of an age when we should have known better. This could explain why I postponed getting a driver's license until I was 20.
To confirm her data, I looked in an old scrapbook. Remembering Liz's family was stateside (Navy people) and that she was at the airport to see me off to CA when I went to visit relatives (the Hammack family) with my grandmother that summer, I thought it would set the record straight. I did find these pictures confirming it was 1967. It was July of 1967, actually, making me just shy of 16. Oh well, so much for being an innocent little kid driving through the screened-in porch. It still was funny, although Dad might not remember it quite that way, having to repair the porch and all.
The pictures I found are not the best quality. They are now about 40 years old and probably taken on my Brownie, or maybe we had Instamatics by then. I hope you can see them enough to make out some interesting details.
Gram and I were the only ones flying. Here we are at the gate, in Logan, back when we couldgo right to the gate to say goodbye. It wasn't so long ago, really. But, if you will notice, everybody is dressed up for a trip into Boston to the airport. From the left, Becky, me, Cousin Liz, Gram and Mom. Dad must have taken the picture.
Becky was there to see us off, too. She would have been almost 7. Gram and I actually wore corsages for the flight. Gram in her white gloves and hat, as any good New Yorker would wear while traveling. I was wearing a skirt and even nylons. Matching white purse, lovely hairdo-going for the Twiggy LuLu look, probably. I begged my mother to let me get my ears pierced because EVERYONE in California would have pierced ears and I wanted to be hip like my west coast cousin Valerie. She finally gave in.
Here is a picture of me with my Aunt Edith, Gram and Uncle John in front of the Golden Gate Bridge. They are all gone now. Gram died in 1983. I was lucky to have one last visit with my aunt and uncle in the late 90s. They died just a few years later.
We went to visit friends of the family in Carson City and then went to Disneyland. These two guys from the Carson City people took my cousin Valerie and I around in Disneyland. We wore dresses to Disneyland! By the way, Valerie's ears weren't pierced.
So, there you have it. I guess my internal chronology is a little messed up. I might not have been as innocent as I thought I was when it comes to that porch incident. And having pierced ears back then, according to Mom, meant I was a little on the cheap side. Thank goodness I was traveling with my Grandmother. I hate to think what might have happened if I was out there on my own in San Francisco during the summer of Love!
Actually, there was this little trip cousin Valerie and I took to Haight- Ashbury one night. We missed the last bus home and had to hitchhike back to their house. A hippy couple picked us up in a VW bus that was painted with psychadelic flowers. But that's a story for another time!
Have a great day.