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9
(Cont. from p.8) CAPE COD VACATION
Yesterday, June 20, 1974, Willie and I drove Pint over to Bab's to deliver two chairs and some small tables to Elizabeth to take to Atlanta with her to help furnish their apartment. (This was where having Pint a wagon proved very convenient.) Just for the fun of it, I asked Bab what she could remember of the Cape Cod vacation although she had already told this to Willie some time ago. Also I asked her if she thought it was in 1937. I was glad I inquired because it elicited some interesting additional information. One reason the bathing was so frustrating was because almost all the beaches were private and it was difficult to even get to a spot where you could [[underlined]]see[[/underlined]] the water's edge. The common, low-caliber atmosphere along so many of the highways was accentuated by a multiplicity of beer joints and hot-dog stands in the towns. Moreover, as Bab recalls it, the historical places were not emphasized so that you missed a great deal that might have elevated the experience a good deal. As for the time having been 1937, at first Bab thought she must have been older than nine. However, after going through the same process of elimination that I had, she concluded that it was 1937--in fact, it had to be. But then she proceeded to add something to the record that we now remember but had forgotten completely. The return trip was made via New York City. It appears that we drove from Chatham to New York on Saturday and probably put up at the Hotel Commodore for the remainder of the weekend. I remember that I had looked forward to introducing the children to the marvels of New York City, not the least of which I considered to be the Empire State Building. I could scarcely wait to show this fantastic structure to them. So, one of the first sightseeing items on our agenda was to load onto a Fifth Avenue bus, sitting on the open upper-deck, and ride down Fifth Avenue past the Empire State Building. When we reached it, almost breathlessly I told Bab and Rog to look up. I expected nothing less than gasps of utter astonishment. They looked up. Their expressions scarcely changed. Then Bab said, "Why, I don't think that's so high." It was probably one of the greatest balloon-prickings of my entire experience. And although I could see the amusing side of it, still it disturbed me by indicating that I didn't understand my children very well and probably because I didn't see as  much of them as I should. Willie remembers having dinner outdoors "on the sidewalk" and I believe this must have been at Chateau Richelieu, one of my favorite Italian places, and just across the street from Radio City. I remained in New York for business reasons and Willie drove the children home Monday, stopping in Scranton at the Hotel Casey that night and continuing home the next day via Route 6. And so, for a vacation concerning which there was no diary, no notes, no letters, and neither snapshots nor movies (still a mystery), we have managed to come up with a pretty fair account.