When I was growing up in Falmouth, Massachusetts, my Dad had two jobs. In the winter he was a music teacher, and in the summer he was a “Summer Cop”. He started that by directing traffic on Main Street, but as he aged and got a little bit of seniority he moved inside to the desk.
It was a great job for him as he could play the organ for weddings during the day and then answer the police phones and dispatch cruisers at night.
One of the things I enjoyed was delivering Dad’s dinner to the Police Station. Mom would cook our dinner and we’d eat. Then she would put a hot dinner on a foil plate, wrap it in tin foil and we would take it to him at the station. Dad was always happy to see us, even if things were crazy, and they tended to be in the summer.
One thing I knew very quickly was to stay out of trouble because everyone knew Jim’s kids, and due to his connections with the police, he would be the first to know!
One day my parents got a call. Did they know where their three children were? Well, they knew we had gone up town, but in a beach resort town, they weren’t exactly sure.
It turns out the three of us had rented a little buggy where two people peddle it and a small person (me) could fit in the middle.
That day we drove all over Falmouth, down by the beaches and even down Main Street! What a time we had! My sister probably has more memories of that day, as I was very small. (5 years younger than her and 7 years younger than our brother, Dickie)
They grew into their teen years and more often then not didn’t appreciate having a kid sister around. But oh, how I longed to be with them, like the old days.
Time goes quickly, you know. Before we knew it, they were all grown up and as a family, we faced my brother’s early death to cancer.
Makes me happy that at least I had some of those early years to enjoy.