Personal Narrative: Summers In Cape May

Summers in Cape May
As I sat in my elementary classroom that first day of school after summer break, the teacher asked us to raise our hands if we went away during the summer. I quickly raised my hand and smiled feeling gitty. When it was my turn to say where I went that summer, I blurted out in a proud voice, “I went to Cape May” At that point the teacher would look at my puzzled and said, ‘Oh… you mean Cape Cod.” And before I could disagree she was on to the next student. ”Cape May, New Jersey, the southernmost tip of New Jersey. It is exit 0 (zero) on the highway,” I thought to myself and itched to shout it out. The teachers mistaking my vacation spot for another went on for all my elementary school years but it did not bother me, it made me feel good that I had a special place that no one else I knew had seen or even knew about.
I spent every summer in Cape May as a child and still go there as an adult. As a child the journey down to Cape May in our bright orange and white VW Bus was the first part of the adventure each summer. All five kids, two parents, my Grandmother, and a second cousin (we picked up along the way) were piled into the van for an 8-10 hour trip. My Father drove and Mom sat shotgun. After loading the luggage (each child one backpack of stuff) we would push and scramble into the car
“We’ll see,” she answered. All of us kids worked frantically to unpack the car and put the luggage in each person’s bedroom of the house they were staying at. We stayed on my Grandfathers (Grandtom) properties when in Cape May. He had a large Victorian house (called 909) for him and my Grandmother (Granddot) and their guests and next door was a smaller but still grand Victorian house (called 907) for his children and their families and friends- that is where I stayed. There was a tennis court behind GrandToms house and a large garage with a one bedroom apartment above behind