Sunday Drive on the Blue Ridge Parkway

Sundays in my childhood were reserved for Church, family dinners and a drive in the country. Mass was something I endured, dinner was always great but the drive was the highlight of the afternoon. My grandfather always drove a Packard and my Dad loved his Chrysler Fury, which we kids referred to as “The Yacht”. They were huge cars with backseats that held 4 or even more if the youngest ones sat on somebody else’s lap. That would be me.

In the winters we would drive to Ocean Ave and “walk the boards” as they say. The shops were all closed but the Boardwalk was filled with families just like us strolling along . There was usually a guitarist sitting on a bench somewhere and in my memory his melody fills the background along with the ocean roar and the occasional scream from a happy child chasing gulls along the shore.

On other days we would head out to the NJ countryside in search of wildflowers in some field or perhaps a roadside ice cream stand. Mom loved to look at old houses & barns while my Dad loved the yard sales. We kids loved the adventure of finding a tree swing somewhere or a field with horses. Western NJ is filled with horse farms mostly associated with racing. But it’s awesome farm country too. Nothing better than a NJ tomato in the peak of summer, or corn from a roadside stand. They call it the Garden state because it really is.