Welcome to Florida! - Mim memory

For someone who'd never been further south than Washington, D.C. - what a thrill to see the "Welcome to Florida!" off I-95, banked with PALM TREES!  For two gals who'd left the cold north behind us, to be driving without the heat on seemed wildly other worldly.  

We were still weeks away from Thanksgiving, so Mim & I were delighted to find parts of Jacksonville already semi decked out for Christmas, with holiday scenes atop some of the city's tall buildings clearly visible from the interstate.  When we got off to find a Mom & Pop motel for our last overnight before hitting the Cape, discovered a lot of the smaller businesses & houses already decorated for Christmas, southern style.

Was introduced to something that would happen every time we needed a wake-up call at a Mom & Pop - they handed us an alarm clock!   

 

 

 

Four little words - Mim memory

South of the Border.

If you know it, no explanation is necessary.  

If you don't, no explanation is possible.

Thanks thanks & more thanks - Mim memory

Remembering marsh monsters, thinking about driving with Mim down to that first space launch, brought a fresh perspective on my life with my big sis.  She did so many amazing things in her life & brought so many into mine, but there were moments that were, I like to think, more fun for her due to having me along.  

Yes, Mim would probably protest that, might point out that she could have gone down & back by herself, since she did all the driving. (At 17, I was still without a driver's license AND there was the broken ankle.)  I wasn't kidding when I said that Mim always & forever struck me as the human personification of the cat that walked alone.  

But without me along, whether it was making a lunatic dash down to a moon launch or heading up to New Hope or scampering down to the Du Pont for brunch, there wouldn't have been the memories that are only possible with someone else along for the ride.  And that didn't really hit home until remembering riding shot gun in the van, driving along a pitch-black stretch of a major interstate so newly opened it was rare we saw another car, navigating through a totally foreign place with endless marshes stretching out on either side - unseen but felt.  

Precious memories - my thank you gift to Mim for making them possible for her baby sis. 

photo credits - theblondatthefilm.com, far fetched mima & oly

Marsh monsters - Mim memory

Back in 1969, there were still unfinished stretches of I-95, which meant Mim & I saw parts of South Carolina & Georgia that motorists just zoom past today.  

It was on just such a stretch of road that we started looking for a place to have lunch.  I remember pointing out a place to Mim, which she gaboshed - to the best of my memory, there was a blue light on it, which (per Mim) meant "blacks only."  

We went past a sign for Mossy Oaks, which Mim suggested but I gave a thumbs down - had seen a sign for a place called Speck's that seemed even more promising.

Come on - the name should have tipped me off.  Not very Southern.  But I figured, in my fevered teen brain, that Mossy Oaks was probably a tourist trap & Speck's was a place favored by locals.

Forever after, "Speck's" would be a code word for a disappointing experience.  It was awful.  Over twenty years later, when John & I had a spectacularly awful meal at the now defunct East Amwell Diner, I described it as "worthy of Speck's."  

Of course, when we drove past Mossy Oaks, ten minutes down the road, it looked like everything we had hoped for!  

The hands-down WORST section of the drive, to & from the launch, was the portion of Rt. 17 that took us through Brunswick, Georgia.  To this day, I have never smelled anything so bad as driving through that town.  No idea idea at the time why it smelled so gosh awful (combination fabric mills & marshland), but am wincing just remembering the odors.  Driving through the foul stench seemed compounded by it being night time.  And we were already a tad unnerved.


As mentioned, there were still long stretches where we had to get off of & back on I-95.  There were also long stretches of I-95 just opened but still unlit.  No street lamps.  

That was one weird experience - driving on a newly opened super highway without any lights.  Oh, and there was no moon.  We drove through what felt like endless stretches of Georgia with an invisible road ahead of us & what felt like vast swaths of marshland stretching out on either side of us.  

It felt that way because there were.  It creeped us out in a strangely satisfying way.  We knew the spine-tingling experience was only possible for the short time between the interstate opening & the new lights installed, so we savored it as a historic happening that couldn't be replicated within just a few months.  We swapped stories about marsh monsters, having a grand time.  A camp fire experience in Dad's van, heading down to an Apollo launch.

Life was very good.

south of Richmond - Mim memory

Crazy as it still seems, the school gave the green light to my missing a full week of senior year to go to Florida with my sister to see a rocket take off to the moon.  Crazy, because I did not have anything close to a sterling reputation for academic prowesss. My grades were, at best, mediocre.  (At my very best.)  But apparently the powers-that-be thought the experience would be educational enough to warrant the absence.

Which is how we can to hit the road bright & early, Tuesday November 11, 1969.  Just after 9:00 a.m., two totally pysched, rarin' to go daughters bid adieu to one parent, waving like mad from the end of Cherry Lane, then to the other, at Lockhart Lumber on Philmont Avenue. 

 Dad's van looked like this, without the "flames."

A tip of my hat to Dad, who not only turned over the keys to his van, not only made sure it was gassed up the night before, but who basically underwrote the entire wild ride.  Looking back, am mighty grateful he & Mom couldn't say no to Mim - much, on this occasion, to my benefit.

When Mim got behind the wheel, she was possessed.  Our family took leisurely drives, with lots of scenic breaks & stops for meals & nibblings.  Not Mim.  We didn't eat until we had to fill up the car.  

Philadelphia, Wilmington, Baltimore, D.C., Richmond - they all slid past. 

Clear memories of the sandwiches Mom made for us - and Mim saying, "Don't drink that soda, because I'm not stopping until ..."  She meant it! 

When Mim finally stopped for the night, she had me call Mom, with strict instructions on what to say & what not to reveal.  

"So, where are you staying?" Mom asked.

"Oh, south of Richmond," was my honest but not quite forthcoming reply.

Yes, we were south of Richmond - 86 miles south, at a Horne's in Weldon, N.C.  

How wonderful the bed felt when we finally crashed.  We were exhausted & excited & still pinching ourselves that we were out of the grey, cold Mid-Atlantic, snug in the South & headed to the Sunshine State!

 

Oh - did I mention my broken foot?  That my left leg was encased in a cast up my calf?  

photo credits www.suggestkey.com, highwayhosts.org 

"We are go for lift off..." - Mim memory

At Christmas, it was always my hope to leave the BEST present for the last.  That's how it's felt, writing these Mim memories.  Waiting to write about our trips down to watch four launches of Americans to the Moon.  Apollo 12, 14, 15 (with Mom!) & Apollo 17.  Adventures worthy of the term lunacy, unforgettable times with a sister who was an experience explorer, a world opener. 

Who knew one sentence from Walter Cronkite would rock my world?  

Dad & Mom, Mim et moi were sitting on the couch at "The Genzlinger House" (to the right of Beryl & Paul, across from Pete & Louise).  Like the majority of Americans, our attention was glued to our television, waiting for the lift off of Apollo 11, on its way to the moon.

As the Saturn rocket went soaring on its way, Cronkite said, "As incredible as this is to watch in your homes, it can't compare to what we see here, at the Cape."

As he spoke, Mim looked at me & I looked at her - at the same instant - and we both knew.  The two of us were going down.  

It made NO sense.  Then next space launch was during my senior year - in November!  I wasn't the greatest student, yet we absolutely knew that we'd be down for Apollo12.  My teachers would never let me take a full week off! 

Ending this memory right here, at that spark of time in the living room, when the two of us locked eyes with the same absurd thought, ready to countdown the days to 11/12/69!

Showdown at Sundae Times - Mim memory

Our lives were greatly enriched by Mom's three BFFs - Gay Pendleton, Ellen Lear & Gig Cope.  Alas, Ellen moved to Texas (where she was indispensable Gal Friday to the folks managing the substantial business interests of the legendary King Ranch) when I was just a wee child & "Aunt" Gay was super busy being the accomplished wife of an executive bishop.  The left the redoubtable Virginia Cope as Mom #1 "Road trip!" buddy.

And hit the road they most certainly did - several times a month, I'd arrive home from school to find a note from Mom ~ "Headed up the river with Gig!" 

How those two loved to meander up the River Road, which winds along the Delaware through Yardley, Washingtons Crossing, New Hope, Center Bridge & points north.  

Gig was - without trying to be - very Katherine Hepburnish in her manner & absolutely her voice.  And the comparison always deeply irritated her, although utterly spot on.  She had this marvelously impervious - downright imperial - attitude & a similar exaggerated Main Line tone to her voice, although Gig had a slight drawl compared to the Great Kate's clipped style.  And she did not hold back on sharing her opinions.

Although Gig was great fun to have along on outs & abouts, it required developing a pretty thick hide to protect ourselves against her well-aimed zingers.  But her company was worth it.

Smiling, remembering the LAST time she zinged us.  The four of us - Gig, Mim, Mom et moi - were headed to Spring Lake, the Lockhart Ladies' favorite part of the NJ shore, with a stop first at a ShopRite in West Long Branch.

This would have been going on thirty years ago - before the days of truly super duper super markets.  Mim had come across the West Long Branch ShopRite on one of her weekly rambles around the area, following a visit with a friend in Eatontown.  Today, we wouldn't bat an eye at the extensive florist section & bakery department, the gorgeous veggies (not a cellophane-wrapped tomato in sight) & splendid everything.  Did I mention the live tree extending up to the ceiling, surrounded by fresh flowers?  A worthy stop for anyone sort of close to the area.  

Gig could NOT believe it.  Literally - "I cahn't belieeeeeve you brought me to a SUPAH MAHKET," she somewhat grumbled as we walked in.  In rather uncharacteristic form, neither Mim nor I jumped in to defend ourselves.  We just let it pass.

The four of us spent the good part of an hour wandering the aisles.  When we left, the only one to make a purchase was - you guessed it - Gig, who said in a slightly dazed voice as we headed back to the car, "Well, I couldn't belieeeeeve you'd take me to a supah mahket, but it really was somewhat special."  Mom could not believe hearing such an unGiglike admission, while Mim & I just smiled at each other.

Next stop, Spring Lake!

It should be mentioned that back in those days, we'd take a leisurely meander from Bryn Athyn over to that part of the shore.  Instead of taking the main roads (I-195 was just opened) we ramble up through Allentown & glorious horse farms, most of which are now long gone, replaced by cookie cutter housing developments.  

As we drove, Mom was waxing rhapsodic about our traditional first stop in Spring Lake - Sundae Times.  As we got closer & closer to Spring Lake, Gig started leveling her barbs about "Oh, you Lahkah & your slavish love of ice cream," not said in a kindly way.  

Imagine her reaction when we waved at & then I drove PAST the clearly marked Sundae Times.  

 

"You drove pahst!  Ahn't you getting your much tahked about ice cream?!"


 "Oh, no, Gig," I responded, "We like it, but you're our guest.  Since it's not your cup of tea, we'll just stop off at Baskin-Robbins after we drop you back home.  Not a problem.  Next stop - the boardwalk!"

For once, Gig was left totally flummoxed.  She always go away with needling us in her unique, but not very nice style. She was NOT used to being taken seriously, to her verbal barbs having consequences.  And she knew we hadn't said anything that she could take exception to; we'd simply come to a reasonable conclusion based on what she'd said.

"Oh, no," she responded, "The three of you - especially Kay - have been looking fohwad to this.  I insist."

Mom, sitting next to Gig in the back seat, looked her bosom buddy straight in the eye & assured her, "Really, Gig, since you have no interest in ice cream, we'll be just as happy getting some back home," changing the subject to, "I can't wait to show you the pavilions that jut out over the beach..."

Gig was fit to be tied.  She was reduced to sputtering about how all the talk about ice cream had actually gotten HER in the mood for a scoop as well.  

From her front seat perch, Mim turned to add her two cents, "Well, Gig, if you really insist..."  And off to the ice cream parlor we sent, with Gig exclaiming it really was the best ice cream she'd ever had.

The showdown at the Sundae Times was not accident, ditto the silence as we headed into the Shop Rite.  Mim & I had decided the time had come to teach Gig a lesson.  Whatever she said, we'd take her at her word.  She was used to tossing around pointed cracks without any repercussions.  Instead of criticizing her, we'd take her at her word.

The big question - would Mom be able to hold up enough to teach her friend a thing or two?  She responded with actual gusto, totally believable in her assurances that we would be perfectly happy with ice cream AFTER dropping off her BFF.  She had doubted it would work.  But did it ever - over the next 15+ years, we'd include Gig on many a ramble, but not once did she make a crack about something SHE really wanted to do.  All because we took finally her at her word.