When I was just a toddler, my maternal grandparents moved from Dallas to Seabrook, Texas. We went to visit them at least once or twice a year, maybe even more. And Seabrook was not really that far a drive to Galveston. Of course, you passed through the scenic Texas City with all its refineries, but that's a topic for another day.
Me, with my mom and dad
Those were the days... you could drive on the beach! I don't think we missed a summer between 1962 and 1975. Maybe even later. Of course I got older, and didn't go as often. Then I was off to college. Sometime in the early '80s, my grandparents moved north to Plano, tired of hurricane evacuations, and wanting to be closer to my mother and my uncle.
But, how could I ever forget the endless hours of sandcastle building,
dripping the wet sand, ever so carefully, from fingertips, to make the turrets of the castle.
And anyone who ever visited Galveston in the 60s and the early 70s will never forget the trips to the gas station to get gasoline to remove the tar from your feet. Or what about rinsing off the sand in the car wash that was on the beach. Put in the quarter and run through, squealing with delight as the cold, fresh water rinsed off the sand and salt.
And anyone who ever visited Galveston in the 60s and the early 70s will never forget the trips to the gas station to get gasoline to remove the tar from your feet. Or what about rinsing off the sand in the car wash that was on the beach. Put in the quarter and run through, squealing with delight as the cold, fresh water rinsed off the sand and salt.
4 comments:
that's a great story - thanks for sharing. I have been to Galveston a few times, and always enjoyed it. Though I was an adult.
A wonderfilled trip down memory lane. Thank you for sharing, I felt like I was remembering with you. LOVE the pix!
And my apron of course!!!
x0,
~Lily
Wow, the pics make this a classic post. They remind me of hours paging through family photo albums thinking, "Man picture technology sure has come a long way." And now we're digital. Which sort of makes me sad because it means I don't have them in photo albums anymore. But I DO have hard copy pics of my son at around age 6 buried in the sand up to his neck, with a strong man body a friend sculpted for him. :)
those pictures are pretty great. i especially like the last one.
looking through old photos always brings me good feelings. there was just something about the early years.
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