Barnegat Light
We used to go to the Jersey Shore every Easter weekend with Jack, Marcia, Katharine and Patrick. We stayed at their house in Barnegat Light on Long Beach Island – a very retro place with plaid swivel armchairs, wood beams, a large stone fireplace, and perpetual sand in the carpet. The garage and guest bedrooms occupied the first floor; I remember the tiles down there could be rather cold and uncomfortable in bare feet unless it was summer when they felt cool and refreshing.
The real action, like jelly bean hunts, took place on the second story. In the back were the bedrooms, but the front of the house was all windows with a deck overlooking the dunes and the ocean. It was basically one huge, open room with endless nooks and crannies in which to hide brightly colored pieces of sugar. Thorough though the five of us were in tracking down those jelly beans, you could still find some months later, in the deadly heat of August when they practically melted to the touch.
Along with the requisite bunny and miscellaneous candy, we always used to get a new jump rope and rubber balls, paints and a fresh book of painting paper in our baskets. Tommy probably got baseball cards, and maybe some comics. He must have been so bored during those weekends. Meghan and Katharine were practically one and I adored playing with Patrick who was so little, just a baby really.
At some point we would take a walk on the beach with the moms, wishing it wasn’t just spring but summer so we wouldn’t have to wear sweaters and jackets. Daddy and Jack no doubt took those opportunities to drink scotch and solve the world’s problems. I don’t know if Jack smoked cigars, but Daddy certainly did back then.
And we always went to mass on Easter morning. It could not have been easy to tear us away from our chocolate and toys, dress us in our finest and then convince us to be quiet and still for at least an hour. There’s some funny story about Patrick at mass one year but I can’t remember exactly what it is. I’ll ask my mom tonight.
The house is gone now, and Marcia died several years ago. We don’t see the Corrigans much anymore. Back then this seemed an impossible development, but life is funny that way.
The real action, like jelly bean hunts, took place on the second story. In the back were the bedrooms, but the front of the house was all windows with a deck overlooking the dunes and the ocean. It was basically one huge, open room with endless nooks and crannies in which to hide brightly colored pieces of sugar. Thorough though the five of us were in tracking down those jelly beans, you could still find some months later, in the deadly heat of August when they practically melted to the touch.
Along with the requisite bunny and miscellaneous candy, we always used to get a new jump rope and rubber balls, paints and a fresh book of painting paper in our baskets. Tommy probably got baseball cards, and maybe some comics. He must have been so bored during those weekends. Meghan and Katharine were practically one and I adored playing with Patrick who was so little, just a baby really.
At some point we would take a walk on the beach with the moms, wishing it wasn’t just spring but summer so we wouldn’t have to wear sweaters and jackets. Daddy and Jack no doubt took those opportunities to drink scotch and solve the world’s problems. I don’t know if Jack smoked cigars, but Daddy certainly did back then.
And we always went to mass on Easter morning. It could not have been easy to tear us away from our chocolate and toys, dress us in our finest and then convince us to be quiet and still for at least an hour. There’s some funny story about Patrick at mass one year but I can’t remember exactly what it is. I’ll ask my mom tonight.
The house is gone now, and Marcia died several years ago. We don’t see the Corrigans much anymore. Back then this seemed an impossible development, but life is funny that way.
posted by Katie at
8:58 AM
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