Its was not so many years ago, well or maybe it was, that we made a reservation to stay at the beach for a few days. My sister Linda would fly down from New Jersey and land at the airport in Charlotte. I would drive out to get her and her little baby girl Dara. We would spend the first couple of days just getting to know each other and then go off on our little vacations. Sometimes it would be a trip to the mountains, to Blowing Rock which had its own special magic. One year we didn’t buy a dulcimer, but as we got closer to home, we thought the better of it and drove all the way back to claim it. A moment that is proudly displayed on my living room wall today. Other times we went to the beach. Before the days of the Internet or VRBO, I really don’t know how we made reservations let alone found our way there, but we did.For a couple of years we stayed at my supervisors beach house in Edisto. That was when I felt like I had hit the big time. We had a whole week thanks to my part time job at Sears which paid me work a week’s vacation. We also supplemented our income by taking tours of time share properties in Myrtle Beach. Linda and I would sign up to take the tour and listen to the speal for an hour for which they would pay us 10 dollars. That’s right 10 silver dollars!!! We thought it’s was pennies from heaven. We didn’t have any money, or anyway, none to spare but we lived like kings stopping for boiled peanuts at roadside stands after getting off the highway. I loved those homemade signs in big red letters screaming Boilt P-Nuts!!! And then inside the stand there was a sign overhead that said… We don’t care How you did things up North!!!
Sometimes we’d find big ripe red fresh tomatoes and of course those white trucks with side painted signs proclaiming Fresh Shrimp!
Tess and Linda made the most delicious meals with noodles and boiled shrimp and sliced tomatoes with mayonnaise on white bread. Then there was the time we found a bakery or something where they sold us a Key Lime Pie. My mouth squenches up just to think of it. A whole key lime pie.
I can’t leave these memories without honorable mention to Fred, who, unbenonced to us and totally uninvited, showed up waving and saying good morning to us from the deck of the neighboring house. This cause immediate chaos and confusion as to what to say or do. I, taking on some assumed role as the protective brother, went over to have a talk with him. After the first few minutes of admonition and protest, I found myself riding around with Fred in his convertible telling him in essence what a great guy he was and apologizing for any inconvenience I was causing him by asking him to leave.
Last night we watched yet another Nicholas Sparks movie reminding me that Fred had a kind of sympathetic hero character about him. Especially now, after 40 years where most everything has been forgiven and forgotten and both Dara and our Lauren have grown into the most capable and responsible of adults.
Anyway, we’re all grown up too and getting old. We pretty much took our youth for granted as most people do but now, when it hurts to move, we can look back and say what a wonderful life we’ve had together and thank god for boiled peanuts, boiled shrimp, key lime pie and all the memories they gave us.
Thank you, Miss Bertha, for reminding us of a simpler time.
Hidden Gem! Well not so much hidden as easily overlooked. Exploring the area and coming back from Fort Fremont, I thought back to memories of stopping at roadside stands for boiled peanuts, fresh tomatoes and local shrimp. Just then I spotted this tiny little white cinder block building Bradley Seafood. I streamed right by it but decided to stop in my tracks and turn around. Bertha was just the sweetest person carrying on a lively conversation with the a patron from the only other car that stopped and when she got her plastic bag of fresh shrimp I followed suit and bought a pound along with a jar of cocktail sauce. I thanked her and asked her name again as I was leaving; Bertha, she replied, Bertha Bradley…. I'm sure there is a great story there. How did this place come to be? What is the history here? How many generations have established themselves on this little sacred spot? Maybe I'll ask and learn more the next time I stop by. Meanwhile the biked shrimp was delicious and just like I remembered it.
Pete and Tess
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