Today is the Fourth of July, and I am recalling the year we traveled to Kiawah Island in South Carolina with Aunt El and the kids. As you recall, for several summers previous to that year, we rented the beach house on Long Beach Island from Mona from Verona. We had a great time hanging at the beach, swimming in the cold New Jersey ocean, and meeting that famous crab on the beach. (Remember Part of Your World?)
We changed our vacation venue after reports of medical waste washing up on the beaches surfaced in the news. Based on some articles in the “Asbury Park Press” and the ages of all of you in my old photos, I believe 1996 was the year of our first migration south to avoid the medical beach trash.
The journey was not uneventful. Chris got carsick—I believe hurling the contents of his stomach into the radio. I remember being car-bound twice because of those typical South Carolina afternoon sudden monsoons—once at a rest stop outside of Charleston and the second time on the island.
Kiawah has bike trails winding throughout the island. On the 4th, we all met at the Town Center, where we were given materials to decorate our bikes. You all had a wonderful time adorning your bikes with crepe paper and flags and then riding in the Kiawah Island parade.
We returned many times after that Independence Day vacation, but never, during the thirteen years since we have lived in the South, have we ever returned to Kiawah for a beach vacation.
What is wrong with us!