This set of random photos came from an envelope my father labeled “Cannon Beach.” Most of the pictures in the envelope were of a trip my parents took with my kids to Cannon Beach, Oregon. I’ve written before about other trips to Cannon Beach—most recently we were there for a family reunion with my husband’s side of the family in 2015. I also spent my twelfth and fifteenth birthdays at my step-grandfather’s cabin in Cannon Beach.
I didn’t make this trip with my parents and children. But when I looked at the photographs, it evoked better—and simpler—times.
I’m not sure what year they made this trip. My son caught up to my mother in height when he was about ten, or maybe eleven. That means these pictures were taken before 1992. I’m guessing 1990 or ’91. Any earlier, and my daughter would look younger than in these photos.
Kids on the beach 
Kids in front of Haystack Rock 
Kids playing in the sand 
Kids with my mother in front of Haystack Rock 
Kids by a waterfall on the beach
In those days, I put my kids on an airplane and shipped them to my parents every summer for a couple of weeks. It was good for all of us. They spent time with their grandparents and developed a love of the West. My husband and I got a break from being working parents.
There was no way to get to Richland, Washington, where my parents lived in those years, without taking two airplanes (usually transferring in Denver or Salt Lake City). In their younger years, airline personnel had to accompany my children from one flight to the next. Once my son was old enough, the kids could make the transfer on their own. Son was good at getting around airports, and daughter (though younger) could be trusted to hang on to the boarding passes.
Those truly were simpler times. Little airport security in the pre-September 11 era. Paper boarding passes instead of cell phone screens. No worries about pandemics on board flights, and no quarantining at the destination.
This summer, my husband and I wonder if we will get any vacation at all. The most we can hope for is probably a weekend within driving distance. And that only once we feel comfortable eating at restaurants and sleeping in a hotel for a couple of nights. So far, we haven’t eaten at a local restaurant since early March. The world is a far different place than when I could put my kids on a plane (two planes) to travel halfway across the continent and trust they would arrive safe and healthy.
What do you remember about past summers?
There you go. “[B]etter—and simpler—times,” indeed! That’s why my credo has become “writing of yesterday for the reader of tomorrow because life today makes no sense.” Thanks for the nostalgia! 🙂
I remember when we went to Silver Dollar City just after 9/11. It was like we’d gone back in time. So relaxing. Perhaps we’ll try that again this summer.