Gleaning Facebook: Loss of Innocence

We've all that moment growing up haven't we? 

From our neighbor Bill Cox, whose parents were our across-the-street neighbors from 1976 till the 1990s:

Reading Raymond Atkins article in the RNT the other day made me reflect on the summer I was 10 years old.

My mother always worked very hard to provide the best of everything she possibly could for me. My father was a hardworking man also, but had a very different idea of what a 10 year old boy needed and wanted. Well, my mother decided I needed to go the 1965 World’s Fair in New York City, as well as see other thing included in the tours itinerary.

My mother could not possibly save enough money in a few years to send us, and my father did not see this as a need. So my mother started saving her S & H Green Stamps for this trip, and early one June morning in 1965 we left the Greyhound bus station on 4th Ave. bound for NYC and a side trip to see my aunt, uncle and cousins in New Jersey. (Cousin Larry still says that Uncle Jimmy was in the Mafia.)

When We arrived at our Hotel the Sheraton in downtown NYC, this 10 year old Georgia boy, who had never been west of Forney, AL or north of Summerville, GA, was awe struck. The huge buildings that blocked the sun, the fancy dressed people, cars everywhere. It was more than I could take in. But in the hotel room there was a card with the best surprise of all…. It promised the next morning we would have in our room a CONTINENTAL BREAKFAST. Well at 10 years old that meant something special to me. See, states are large, countries are huge, so CONTENTAL had to be double humongous! I could not wait for the slab of bacon, fried and scrambled eggs, sausage patties, biscuits and gravy, grits, waffles and pancakes, home fried potatoes, muscadine jelly, the list of different foods just went on and on. Then a big ole Double Cola to wash it all down.

The next morning, as excited as I had ever been waiting on Santa Claus, a knock came at the door and our breakfast cart was pushed in. I flung the stainless steel covers and white liens off the plates only to find an orange, an apple, and a few red grapes; a doughnut or two and some sweet, flat looking things I now know are Danish Pastry; a small pot of coffee (as of today I still do not drink) and some apple juice.

This was the single biggest disappointment in my young life. To be promised a continent of food only to be given islet.

So Raymond, when I read about your continental breakfast experience, it really took me back and the bad thing was there was no raccoon or armadillo to fight over the scraps.

The lesson I learned has served me well over the years; especially in 1966 when I didn’t get my pony for my 11th birthday.