Summer vacations: 1940's, 50's and 60's
Jack Atkinson

One expectation many families have is that once a year there will be a vacation. Though they always end up costing more than anyone had planned, we continue going year after year. Years ago, a 90-year-old friend of mine told me that when she was a little girl her grandmother said "Elizabeth, come downstairs and sweep this hall." She responded, "Grandmother, I am here on vacation." My early family vacations were fun and restful, but as time went on vacations were all work--driving, touring, water parks, and theme parks, etc.

Growing up in Garfield our family vacationed at Tybee. We stayed at the Georgeann Inn, an old home on the beach. Looking back I know my father thought we were close enough to Garfield that when the money ran out, we could get back home. Sometimes the vacation was in conjunction with business. The family had a store in Ocala, Florida so we went there to work and see Silver Springs and Ross Allen's Snake Park. My sister got to bring a friend, Mary Ann G. Other years we were lucky to go to Daytona Beach when cars could still drive on the beach. Once we went to Ashville to visit one of the Atkinson's shops, but it was a mountain vacation for a change. This time the "mountains" of N.C. drew oohs and ahs and got the inevitable "pull over, I'm sick." The truth is that we were always a beach family because my grandmother and aunts and uncles lived in Panama City. Vacations often turn out to be family visits.

Along the way my family made at least two trips up North. My mother's brother lived in Niagara Falls and that was our first destination. This was an international vacation because we went over to Canada. My father's brother lived in the Philadelphia area. I got to visit my two cousins and a lot of historical sites, including Independence Hall and the Betsy Ross House. I was under 12 and therefore not old enough to visit my cousin who was in the hospital due to a golf club injury to his head. They bent the rules and I got to see him for five awkward minutes. Remember: At this time I lived in Garfield where I had access only to C.H. Dopson's store and Toole and Cowart's when my uncle, who was the manager of the Philadelphia Woolworth's, offered to take us to the store. I had no idea why that was so special. It was Sunday and the store was closed. He opened the door sending us off to the toy department to pick out anything we wanted. That was a memorable vacation. We also visited my grandmother's cousins in western Pennsylvania in the home of my great, great grandparents.

There is a desire for those of us who are Easterners for the great Western vacation. Years ago, Sam and Margaret Smith packed up and took daughters Sandy and Kim on a long western trip (four weeks and 8,000 miles driven). These trips expanded horizons with mountains, oceans, deserts and vast distances. My Western trip did take place. My dad and I flew to Phoenix, Arizona to drive my Atkinson grandparents back to Garfield. My father hated to fly, but with some fortification he got on the plane, a turboprop and we flew low to the west. There was a lot to see at that low altitude. The drive back east took forever, but I could say I had seen the Grand Canyon. In 1962 I got my second Western adventure. Bill Mathis and I went on a Greyhound bus tour to the Seattle World's Fair. There we were two teenagers from Twin City, and a bus load of senior citizens! We had a month long trip well chaperoned.

Gas was not three dollars a gallon. Tires could be recapped. Cars lasted. Relatives put you up. Those were the times and looking back I appreciate the vacations.--Jack Atkinson is our guest columnist and a resident of Garfield.

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