NO DAY AT THE BEACH...

When I was growing up, family vacations and outings were generally limited to day trips and local activities. There wasn't much travel outside the state of Illinois except for the occasional Wisconsin or Indiana border crossings in those days. A day spent at the Indiana Dunes State Park or Wisconsin Dells was a real treat. It didn't really matter where we traveled, we always had fun on those road trips… except perhaps this once. Although, in retrospect, it seems pretty entertaining now.

Maybe it's because we had no air conditioning at the time or that it wouldn't have helped anyway, but the dog days of summer in 1965 seemed to be hotter than usual. Now and then on late afternoons before the sun went down on those hot and sticky days, we would all pile into the family sedan and head on down to the lakefront to cool off. Mom would pack a picnic basket filled with cold chicken or sandwiches, and various deli-style salads for supper. Dad would load up the trunk with a couple of lawn chairs for the adults, a blanket for the kids, and all essential sandcastle-making equipment for the youngest, with a beachball or Frisbee for the older kids. Hearing the waves slap against the rocks and feeling the breeze off the water was very refreshing and something we all enjoyed. This night, however, we never made it there. 

Nancy (age 4)

It was an unbearably hot day in August, and the night didn't hold any promise of cooling down by much. My family climbed into the car and headed toward the lake. As I recall, the vehicle had bench seating. Dad, mom, and my three and a half-year-old sister, Nancy ["almost 4" as she would always remind us], in-between them sat up front. My eldest sister, Natalie, brother, Patrick, and I were seated squashed in the back. It would take about 30-40 minutes or so to get to the beach, a little longer, depending on the traffic. 

As I have already mentioned, part of our meal consisted of deli-style salads [i.e., potato, macaroni, and a creamy coleslaw]. My youngest sister loved rice pudding, so my mother would always pick up a small container of it, especially for her. As soon as Nancy saw the carton, her eyes widened. She had to have it, and since we wouldn't be eating supper for at least two hours, mom gave-in and my sister finished off her special treat before we left for the lake. 

The car ride was bumpier than usual [or at least, that's the way it seemed]. Maybe because it was so hot outside and Patrick, Natalie and I were packed in like sardines, …not to mention stuck to the vinyl seats, but it felt like the lake was a hundred miles away. 

After riding in that car forever with my brother and sister spurring me on, I taunted and teased my baby sister mercilessly, as she leaned over the back of the front seat.  As we all know, teasing is the first rule of the unwritten code of conduct between siblings on long car rides. My mother shouted at me, "leave your sister alone!" followed by my father, yelling, "don't make me have to pull over!" Of course, rule number two of the code is to blame the behavior on someone else. Therefore, my response to both of them was, "Natalie and Patrick made me do it!" Yes, the ride was long, and it was about to get even longer.

Dad was sidetracked by all the commotion going on in the car. He hit a pothole in the street that airlifted my brother, sister and I up off the seat. Of course, my younger sister loved it and squealed with laughter. Well, if there's one rut in the road…there's bound to be more, so after about the third jolt, it wasn't so funny anymore. Nancy's rice pudding…having not entirely digested decided it wanted out. 

Unfortunately, Natalie, Patrick, and I were in the direct line of fire from a hail of the gloppy mess once known as pudding that was inescapable. As my mother tried to pull my sister down onto the front seat and contain the steady stream of Nancy's favorite dessert, …she was caught by rice pudding shrapnel. Poor dad, hollered out "what's the matter now?" which caused Nancy to turn her attention towards him. As she turned her head in his direction, he was hit by the final volley of pudding down his sleeve and pant leg.  

Well, as you might have guessed, an evening at the lake was out of the question. Instead, we ended up at the local Turn Style Department Store, which was the equivalent to Kmart or Target back in the 60s. The entire family had to be completely re-outfitted just for the ride home. 

Whether it was food poisoning or motion sickness, no one will ever know for sure. What I do know is that I have not been able to look at rice pudding, let alone eat it ever since. As for my sister, Nancy... she denies any recollection of the events related here.