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Carol Ratcliffe (Gairo)
A LOVE STORY
By Carol Ann Gairo
It was a hot day in August. Mother and I had just returned home from a ten-day cruise to Haiti, Jamaica and Nassau. Although it was wonderful, exciting and picturesque, especially Paradise Island, it was also exhausting. We didn’t want to miss out on the land excursions and the many tropical sights too beautiful to miss, so we were really tired when we returned home.
Mother suggested, “Hey Car, how about we go down the shore for a week to recover from our trip?” What 15 yr. old girl would turn down another vacation especially at North Wildwood, NJ.
I said, “Sure,” and started packing again. Meanwhile Mother called the Manor Hotel and made reservations for us. Thankfully the drive from our home in Elkins Park, PA to North Wildwood, NJ was only 1 ½ hours.
Wildwood was a family vacation spot along the Atlantic Ocean with powdery white sandy beaches, miles of boardwalks with rides like the Wild Mouse roller coaster, water parks, games of chance and all kinds of fun food from cotton candy to pizza.
After we settled in our room, Mother told me that she was going to go down by the pool and have a drink and a smoke (Old Gold cigarettes) prior to dinner. I took the opportunity to walk one block to the boardwalk and soak in the sun, ocean breeze and the fun vibration of all the activity on the boardwalk that I remembered so well from prior visits to the shore. I walked about a mile to one of my favorite arcades and watched the challengers scream with delight when they won a prize or numerous tickets from playing skee-ball. Those tickets could then be redeemed for bigger prizes. I walked back to our hotel and enjoyed a delicious dinner with Mother. What fun . . . good food and I didn’t have to do the dishes afterwards.
Then Mother suggested that we go to the show at the hotel that night featuring Paul Anka. It was 1961 and although Paul was only 20 years old, he had his first number one hit “Diana” at the age of 15. He was already known as a top entertainer and song writer. I always loved music and looked forward to the show. It was enjoyable. The only disappointing feature is I learned Paul is quite short in stature. But his singing and command of the stage with a full orchestra made him seem twice as tall.
I think we both slept quite soundly that night.
The next day Mother said she was just going to hang around the hotel and relax by the pool. I put on my black lace bathing suit with matching black lace jacket and gathered up my blanket for the beach and a towel, Coppertone and my latest book titled How to Speak Italian. The entire crew on the M.V. Victoria cruise ship was Italian and I enjoyed listening to them talk.
I told Mother I would be on the beach at 23rd Street should she be looking for me. I could hardly wait to find my spot on the fine sandy beach and headed for the rolling waves of the salty water, which made everything more buoyant.
Shortly after entering the water I noticed a heavy-set male teenager surf diving near me. Then I heard a voice call out, “Hey Whale!” I hate to admit it, but he did look just like a whale diving and I started laughing. Now that caused a problem because I was in water over my head and I challenge any one to try and swim and laugh at the same time . . . can’t be done.
Then I heard another voice say, “Hey Jim, you got the girl laughing.”
I responded, “Yes but I can’t swim and laugh at the same time.”
Jim answered, “Well stop swimming.”
That’s when I explained that I was in deep water and that wasn’t an option. I did swim in to where I could stand and finally headed for my blanket to recover. Jim followed me there and saw my book and mentioned that he was Italian. He then asked permission to sit with me on my blanket. He was tall, slender and very handsome with black hair, dark brown eyes, a beautiful tan and a bright white smile that would make any girl thrilled . . . providing she wasn’t blind.
I learned he was only down the shore for the day. He got a ride from some acquaintances for the price of kicking in on the cost of the gas. When he asked me out on a date that night to go dancing on one of the piers . . . I looked at him closely and saw he was already shaving and had chest hair.
I answered, “I’m sorry but I think you think I am older than I really am.” I was 5’ 7” and had already developed by 15. Mother’s nickname for me was jail bait. “I’m only 15,” I explained.
He smiled and said, “That’s okay . . . I’m only 17.” He was starting his senior year at Father Judge High School and lived in Somerton, a suburb of Philadelphia. I told him that I would have to get permission from my Mother first, but if she said, “Okay,” I would meet him at the boardwalk entrance a 23rd Street at 7 PM. Back then girls didn’t date boys they weren’t formally introduced to, but Mother gave me the green light to meet this handsome Italian boy.
After a quick dinner, I combed my long brunette hair into a French twist so it wouldn’t blow in the wind on the boardwalk. I put on a pretty white cotton shirtwaist dress and matching small white heels. I was looking forward to seeing him again. As I approached the boardwalk I could see him waiting for me at the top of the ramp and his warm smile letting me know he was happy I could make it. He took my hand as we started walking towards the pier with the dance party. Jim said, “Do you really want to go there? There are a lot of young kids there running around and I rather walk the boards and talk with you.” How could I say, “No,” to someone who would rather spend time with just me. We walked the boards and stopped in front of a movie theater playing The Guns of Navarone. We heard a melodical, almost hypnotizing beat coming from the theater. We didn’t know if it was native drums because at the time we didn’t realize the movie was a WWII movie and not a western. Later we learned it was the sound of a salt water taffy machine as it was spitting out tons of tasty sweet treats from the store next to the theater.
After the sun went down, it got cooler and Jim would wrap his arms around me so gently to keep me warm and comfortable. We walked the boards some more and split a Coke. It was a good thing I didn’t ask for more because the reason Jim didn’t want to go to the dance is he ran out of money, but didn’t want to admit it or take the chance I would leave. It was getting late and we walked back to the old black car his friend had, but his driving buddies weren’t back yet. Jim asked for my telephone number and address so he could see me after we both returned home. But the only thing I could find to write with was my Luvalee Pink lipstick. So on a piece of scrap paper I wrote my information with my lipstick. Then he gave me the only thing he had that he won . . . a red miniature stuffed striped poodle dog. It was a really cute toy dog with legs that moved and I knew he wanted me to have it to remember him by.
He went to give me a kiss and it was the best kiss I had ever received. I could feel my heart pounding. I wondered if he could feel my heart beating out of my chest? Since his friends weren’t back yet, he suggested that he walk me back to my hotel. We held hands and we felt so comfortable with each other. Almost as if we had always been together. Who knows maybe we were in another life. He kissed me again Good Night. I didn’t know how long it would be before I would see him again, but I would count the days until I would melt in his arms.
After I returned home Jim called to see if he could come visit me at my house? He didn’t have a car yet, but a friend was willing to drive him the 14 miles from his home to mine. Once again when he arrived, we hit it off immediately and his friend waited patiently while we made plans to see each other again.
Every week day after school Jim would take two buses and walk or thumb it 4 miles on busy roads without sidewalks to get to my house. He would fall asleep on the sofa in our recreation room in my basement waiting for me to return from school. He typically ate dinner with us and then my Mother would drive him home or back to the bus stop. When he got home he would signal me on the phone with two rings and hang up. That was the signal for me to call him back. I had unlimited phone service. Then we would talk for another hour. On the weekends he caddied at Philmont Country Club to make money for the upcoming bus rides.
When he finally got a car, we would start to say “Good-by” and kiss each other “Good Night” almost an hour before my curfew of 11 PM, because it would take that long to finally part. I would look at my face in the foyer mirror after he left, only to see how flushed I looked from the added adrenalin caused by our passionate making out. I tried to avoid my parents’ eyes until my face returned to its’ natural color.
Three months after we started dating, Jim accompanied my family to the Philadelphia Airport, to bring my grandmother home from Florida. While waiting for her flight to arrive a Navy officer in his dress whites sat down next to me when Jim went to the Men’s room. We talked a bit, but that shocked Jim when he returned. In response to seeing me interacting with someone else, Jim asked me to marry him on the ride home.
I replied, “If I still feel the way I do about you after I graduate high school . . . I will.” We dated for 2 years with lots of drama like my mother and I running away from home in the middle of the night, because of my violent father’s threats. I couldn’t initially tell Jim about our escape plan because my father would just follow him to find us. Jim wrote me a 14 page letter in desperation, but realized he had no idea where to send it.
After I was able to contact Jim, my mother became mentally ill and was committed to a mental ward with 14 shock treatments. Jim was afraid she would try to run off with me again once she was released. So we tried three times to elope to Elkton, MD, unsuccessfully.
Thankfully after I finished high school, our parents gave us permission to marry and we had a small wedding one month after I graduated. The day we married in our Easter outfits, Jim couldn’t wait for my father to walk me to the altar. He raced half-way up the aisle to take my hand. We started our life together in a modest studio apartment. That night back at our apartment Jim showed me the slip of paper with my name and address in lipstick that he kept from that first night. We still have that paper today. We moved to larger apartments and finally a row home as our family grew. Eventually we moved to the Pocono Mountains for a better quality of life for our family.
Jim and I have always loved being together and sharing life’s challenges that came with 3 sons born in the first 4 ½ years of marriage and moving to new areas. Even at 17 and 15 years old, when we asked each other, “If money was no object . . . what would you want to do?” Both of us would respond, “Travel.”
During our 55 years together we have been fortunate enough to travel this beautiful country starting in a pop-up camper with our children traveling to Florida to full-time RVing in a 36’ motorhome in retirement. Throw in a few cruises to the Greek Islands, Venice, the Caribbean, Hawaii, and Mexico; we have enough wonderful memories to last the rest of our lives. Yes we aren’t as physically capable as we were when we first met, but our love is even stronger for sharing a life of love and respect. We still kiss each other “Hello” and “Good-By” and tell each other that we love each other every day. Our Love Story continues by celebrating our 53rd Wedding Anniversary this week. We will never know what day will be our last together in this physical world . . . so we are going to enjoy each and every day, hand-in-hand . . . The Present!
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