I love this crisp air, not that crummy Florida humidity - that was just impossible. The beach was hours away from Gainesville, and even there you’d get eaten alive by bugs, not to mention all the young people in their tiny bikinis playing their loud horrible music and being obnoxious. George hated the cold, and he was small, even more so near the end, so we had to move back to Florida - again - while he was alive. A stiff breeze could have sent him into the water!

​

Not me. I’ve lost a lot of weight, but I’m round and close to the ground. Ha! Now that my cataracts are gone, I can see again, too. What a joy to be able to see again the delicate shades of browns and blacks on the feathers of the pipers scrounging for their food when the water recedes, flying away when it comes back, and the orange beaks of the cawing seagulls trying to get the crabs from the diners at the hotel, the smooth polish of the inside of the oyster shells, the roughness of the clam shells and even little pieces of sea glass glinting in the wet sand when the water recedes.

The water on my toes is too cold for swimming but is exhilarating. My heart beats a little faster. If I could pitch a tent and live on the beach, I would. Less housecleaning, that’s for sure!

I remember when Mother and Daddy first brought us to Milford Beach when I was a little girl - probably not more than five or so. It was a big outing and one of my first times in a car, too! Bumping along, feeling the breeze. I loved it! But then that first smell of salt air made me squeal with happiness. We had just moved to Seymour, near the Naugatuck River, and the factories made a terrible smell and filled the river with brown foam. In the winter, it froze over in those days so we could skate - at least at the pond. I always preferred winter because of that. The air smelled fresher, and our woolen sweaters kept us warm. I was a good skater, even when I was little, it made me feel free as a bird.

But the summers were terrible. No one complained about the pollution in those days because the factories meant jobs, and we didn’t even know what pollution was even though we all hated the smells. We all looked forward to the evenings when the smokestacks stopped belching all that black smoke and sulfur into the air. Did we have a car yet or maybe it was Uncle Sammy who drove us? He had the pharmacy in Salisbury and was always doing better than everyone else. He didn’t give himself airs, though. He did his best to help us all out. Everyone loved Uncle Sam.

As soon as we got to the beach, and I saw all that white sand, I ran into the water full tilt. No one could catch me! Mother had dressed Dot and me up in these little outfits she had made us special that were as cute as the dickens, but I didn’t care. I just jumped in the water like I was born to it. Everyone shouting behind me to slow down and wait. Me jumping around in the waves - shocked by the cold of the water but happy as a clam! Mother had told me a story about mermaids once at bedtime, and I decided I was one right then and there. Daddy rushed out to get me. Mother flapping her arms like a helpless duck. She was already too large to run, never mind catch up with the likes of me! My word that woman was as big as a house. I gained weight, too, I suppose, but not to that extent! How she and Daddy managed to make Georgie the next year is beyond me, but the Lord does work in mysterious ways! Or maybe she was still slender then? Memory does play tricks on you at my age.

Ward ran in after Daddy and taunted me as Daddy was bringing me in. I was kicking like a banshee, and Daddy was trying to be serious about it all because Mommy was so upset, but I could tell he was laughing inside, a tiny smile on his face. I could tell secretly he was impressed with how strong I was. “Calm down, Dickie,” he said. “You’re going to send me to the hospital!”

Ward kept saying “Girls can’t swim! Girls caaaan’t swiiiim!”

I cried bitterly and stopped fussing long enough to say, “Yes, they can! Can’t they Daddy. Can’t they?”

“Yes,” he said, looking hard at Ward as if trying to will him to stop talking and giving him that if you don’t stop, I’ll smack you look, so Ward shut up. “Yes, they can. You can. Just let Mother get you into your brand new bathing suit so she doesn’t have a cow. OK, Dickie, can you do that for me?”

When we were at shore, I stuck my tongue out at Ward when I knew no one else was looking. We weren’t meant to do that kind of thing, and if I was discovered, my mouth could be washed out with soap. That was a fact, and I knew it. Ward tried to get sand on me, but I ran to Mother who was changing Dot’s diaper in the car and said, “I want my bathing suit! I want it now! Phew Dot smells!”

She said, “Young lady, I’m busy and you have been a very bad girl so you need to hold your horses and maybe - only maybe - will I put on your bathing suit.”

I cried with rage when I watched Ward just strip right down to his underwear in front of everyone and run into the ocean just like that.  “Boys are so lucky! I hate being a girl!”

“Elizabeth Whitbeck, you are stretching my last nerve,” said Mother.

Daddy swooped in to pick me up, pretending to be angry, but he brought me to a place where I could change and handed me my bathing suit. “You better watch out,” he said, even while he was chuckling. “Your mother’s on the warpath.”

I ran out with my suit and went back into the water, flapping around happily.  Daddy came into the water, even as I could hear behind him Mother saying, “Charles Henry Whitbeck what are you doing? You are spoiling that girl rotten! I’m the one who has to live with her all day. For heaven’s sake!” But the water was loud, and she was muffled by the ocean breeze and the sound of the waves. I knew she wouldn’t come into the water. I was safe here.