As an adult, I find the expression trite now. But as a child, I thought it a truly magical destination. It was the boardwalk in Wildwood - the only place I ever wanted to be. Its path was infinite, impossible to conquer in a single night from Sportland to Fun Pier.
To this day, I can still smell the creosote that permeated the air on a humid August night. I can recall walking with my parents, wondering where all those rides, lights and arcades had come from. Who put them there, and why?
To me, they were eternal; they had been there forever. They were never born and would never die. From the Flyer roller coaster and the Pirate Ship on Hunt's Pier to the Jumbo Jets on Morey's and the legendary Haunted Castle on Mariner's Landing, they were all there just for me.
I remember the indescribably powerful aroma of the Nut Hut and the hypnotic call of the Monster Wheel; the free samples from Laura's Fudge; a slice at Mack's; and the forgettable garishness of the Aqua Circus marquee. I remember wondering what the sign meant that proclaimed "Inaugural Walk." And I watched the Tram Car, thank you.
I can recall staring out into the darkness at an ocean I could only hear and not see, an ocean that seemed miles away to a small child even in daylight. I remember being sad that the fun I had on the beach with my brothers that very day had vanished into the night, and would never come back.
I wanted to step on each and every plank as I walked along the boardwalk, just to say that I did it. Just so I could know that I had experienced everything I could in those seven days of summer.
Jimmy Gimpel
Philadelphia
Look for other Shore memories on the Metro Commentary Page this month.
