I have never really traveled very much. However, I was able to drive to NY with one of the Vista workers that shared our home back in the late sixties. Suzanne was an English major from Manhattan, Debbie an English major from New Jersey. I thought that they were so cool. They were smart, beautiful, with long, straight, dark hair- which remained straight because they ironed it almost everyday. I couldn’t believe that. I actually curled or braided mine to make it do something besides hang straight. Suzanne and I left from Huntington in her powder blue, VW Beetle. I thought that was a cool car too. We had to beg Dad to let me go, but those young women could talk him into things that I could not.
We ate at Howard Johnson’s, which I’d heard of but never seen. We saw Amish people traveling in wagons on the highway, right along with the trucks and cars. I felt as if I was visiting another land or something. And finally we made it to the Big Apple, I later heard it called. The traffic was horrible. There were yellow cabs everywhere. People were running here and there. After traveling a long time on the “city streets” we arrived at Suzanne’s parents house on Long Island.
I felt very nervous by the time we got to their house. I wanted them to think that I was a good girl and not an ignorant hillbilly from WV. They surprised me by the easy way they talked with me. Suzanne shared some of the stories about her experiences with my family and I enjoyed this so much. I never thought that our family was anything special. Of course the goings on at our house were a little different when the girls were present, especially the way Dad would conduct himself. He was nicer when they were there to witness how he treated us. As I watched how Suzanne’s family looked upon her, I was jealous. Jealous because my family wasn’t like this one. In later years I learned from Suzanne that she never really got along with her mother, but I didn’t see it during that early visit.
Her parents were entertained by my accent. I didn’t feel as though they were making fun of it, just enjoying it. I particularly remember how peculiar they thought it was for me to refer to a paper bag as a “poke.” Before that day I didn’t realize that other people didn’t use that word for a paper bag. That was a jolt for me. Hey, I was a bit different, I thought. So, they said things that sounded a lot different from me too.
It was close to Christmas and we went into the city (New York City) for dinner on one of the nights of my visit. It was a really nice restaurant. Lots of napkins and silverware, way more than I had ever seen on a table. Suddenly, one of the lessons from my Home Economics class came flashing back from my memory. I think the teacher talked about a dinner fork and a salad fork and a certain way to eat the soup. Oh Lord, I hope that I remember some of it, I thought. We had steak as the main course. This too was a little different for me. I don’t think that I had ever had a piece of meat quite that large on a plate just for me. I patiently picked at it while waiting for the other dinner guests to tear into theirs. I took my cues from Suzanne, who by now realized how lost I was in the process. Dinner came and went and I felt like my Fairy God Mother had worked some of her magic for me on this night. I felt very special.
The next day, it was time to see the sights. We got on the subway in order to travel back into town. This too, brought about a new experience for me. In WV I would think nothing of looking at a passerby and smiling at them. In NY, on the subway, this is not something that should be done. First of all in NY, unacquainted people don’t look directly into the eyes of strangers. Well I did and this Latino man started yelling something at me, which I did not understand, and Suzanne pulled me over close to her and we moved away from that area of the car. Yes, that was a life lesson.
The most enjoyable venture of the trip was the day we rode the Staton Island Ferry out to the Statue of Liberty. We didn’t get off the boat and walk up to the statue, but it was still a grand experience. There She stood, tall and strong, waiting for those who would come into the harbor seeking refuge. I thought about how I felt about seeing her and I was already an American, how must the immigrants have felt? It was freezing cold that day, especially on the Ferry. Suzanne took a picture of me standing on the deck of the boat and I still treasure it to this day.
I have been able to visit a few places in Eastern United States. I have fished in most of the places I have visited, because I have traveled there with one or the other of the two husbands that I have had. This is not a bad way to travel or to see a place. The eyes of a fisherman see things that others may miss. I have loved fishing and the fishermen.
Now, about that place that I would like to visit. That would be Greece, with it’s cool Mediterranean breeze and its’ white beaches, engulfed in the history of man. Cobblestone streets where farmers meet to display their finest treasures from gardens in the countryside. Sipping cool wine from a nearby vineyard with a man who adores me. Could it get any better than that? Maybe someday I will get to make that trip or maybe I will travel there through the eyes of a character in a romantic novel, read one summer on a beach in South Carolina, whichever it is I know that I shall love it.
