It seems odd to me to head west when our destination is east, but that’s how it was. Daughter Catherine and I left for Savannah via Houston on Saturday morning. Much earlier that day son David left northern Virginia in his car for the Savannah airport. He arrived shortly after we did, and after an impromptu tour of Savannah where we accidentally nearly crashed a wedding in one of Savannah’s many parks, made our way on to Tybee Island. Being first to arrive at Tybrisa Beach Resort we had our choice of beds.

Sunday morning found David, who turned out to be our official shuttle driver, hustling back to the airport to fetch his brother Stephen. Later in the day Susanna and husband Dick drove in from Florida. All my children and a spouse were assembled in one place. Needless to say the rest of the day was spent catching up on everyone’s recent activities.

It was Labor Day weekend and a large crowd of holiday revelers filled the beach parking lot early in the day. There was a steady stream of cars touring the lot, looking for a parking place. Few found one, but some had come to enjoy the beach for a while and left, making room for latecomers. Nevertheless the stream continued until nightfall when the music in the nearby pavilion became much louder. At a bit past nine o’clock the music stopped and fireworks launched from the long pier jutting out over the ocean to a fishing platform began their show. Many oohs and ahs were uttered from our group of watchers when a rocket burst into a colorful array of brief points of light in the sky. We watched with delight until the show ended and the music resumed. We felt good to have watched the fireworks from the best of vantage points and to get home by just walking back inside.

There was no way to keep Dick out of the kitchen. He loves to cook for a gang of hungry folks. We ate well during our stay. He was in the kitchen helping out even when someone else was fixing the meal.

The Labor Day crowd was much diminished from the previous day and family members leisurely visited the beach to enjoy the sand and the surf. Even I managed a trip to the beach although I usually read a recorded book while they strolled the beach. Catherine liked to watch sunrise over the ocean and take pictures as the sun rose. She got some nice pictures but was disappointed in not finding the spectacular sunrise she hoped for.

Wednesday was a busy day for our shuttle driver. Granddaughter Ursula arrived early; Stephen left at midday and Ursula’s new boy friend Alex came at suppertime. Dick helped by making one of the trips to the airport

Overall our gathering was a pleasant and fulfilling experience, but for me a trip to Tybrisa Beach is always a bittersweet experience. The place was my late wife Dorothy’s favorite spot. In my mind’s eye I can see her on the beach, surrounded by all of the gulls in the neighborhood, enticed there by her bag of breadcrumbs. I can see the two of us sitting in a beach swing, watching the people pass by. I can see her walking in the surf, being careful that the water is only ankle deep. I can see during our last trip there the scene on TV when checking the weather channel. Instead of the weather report, the horrible scene of collapsing buildings came into view. 

I know it’s hard to believe but nobody turned on the TV while we were there this year. (9-11-’01)