Morning Coffee; Episode 10

Mornin’ to ya! I like my coffee black and strong. 

Today, an old picture fell out of a desk drawer. It is, as best I can tell, 72 or 73 years old. It is a photo of my grandpa (my mother’s father), my dad, and my mom. The year is 1951 or 1952.

For some reason, I can’t remember why, Dad and Mom decided on a fishing vacation to Erieau, Ontario. It sat on a small peninsula jutting out into Lake Erie. 

This was the only vacation I recall our family going on, including my older sisters, Becky and Charlene. They were in their early teens. From that vacation onward, our family struggled financially. We never had the money for anything, not even enough for food and rent. 

Grandpa, Dad, and Mom, that's
what real fishermen are
supposed to look like. 
(Circa 1952)

We seldom did things as a family. Sometimes we went to the automobile races. There were the obligatory family gatherings. Maybe it is because of that, I recall so much about the vacation to Canada. My sisters’ memories were, “I remember going there but that’s it.”

I remember features of the small cabin we rented. 

I remember eating wild strawberries that grew near the lake’s shore.

I remember Grandma and Grandpa with us (Mom’s parents). 

I remember a one-wheel trailer we pulled.

I remember wading in Lake Erie only feet from our cabin with my sisters. They watched me.

I remember it was a pebble beach. 

I remember cold lake water.

I remember strong breezes.

I remember crossing the Ambassador Bridge. It scared me.

I remember on our return telling border agents that my name was Skippy Gosses. (I don’t know where that came from?) It caused a bit of a raucous between the guards and my dad. 

I remember my sisters buying a cheap souvenir. It was a picture of a house, with wrinkled aluminum foil behind the window openings. The picture was mounted on a picture frame. Our family had it for years, hanging it where everyone could see it. We liked art.

I remember motorboating with Dad out to just outside Erieau Bay to check on his illegal trout lines. When he saw the game wardens checking his lines, we returned to the cabin. 

I don’t know why my sisters don’t remember more of that vacation. They have now passed. My memory of them is bright. They really took good care of me. I’m sort of thinking they shielded me from the realities of a difficult family life. I don’t think I ever told them thanks.

Just something I’ve been thinking about.