Sounds like your family has a long history in the area, too - with your GG Grandfather and all. I wonder if he knew back then how big Houston’s port would eventually become.

Glad you got to enjoy the experiences like I did… ah, memories!

Drop by again sometime, Kimberly!

Tell them how just after they were engaged their Mimi and Pop went on the ferry to Galveston with Dad’s (Pop’s) married sister and BIL for chaperons.

Mimi thought the dock was sinking when the ferry started. Pop didn’t understand why, until several years later (I was 2). They went to visit Mom’s family for the first time - and crossed to PEI on one of the big ice breaker ferries. Apparently I was the only person on board that enjoyed the crossing - due to heavy seas. I turned somersaults the whole trip.

Going back further in time how their Great-Great-grandfather was the city engineer that oversaw the Port of Houston becoming a deep water port after the 1900 storm.

It also made me think about coming from two families closely connected with the water made water safety a routine. For example my sister was a teenaged rebel. She and some friends slipped off to Galveston one day. Mom found out because she heard them arguing. Sis’s friends had swam out from the shore - and 3 days later Sis was furious about their stupidity. They had swam past the 2nd Sandbar and could have been in real trouble - fortunately the tide was going in not out.

Sams last blog post..Life is Like a Float Trip on a River that a Superhero Won’t Save You From

Ah… close eyes, deep breath… yep; I’m there… |-)

My favorite ferry ride takes me to a small town just across the river. The town’s culture is nothing like my hometown city. The folks are easygoing and relaxed. Secretly, I want to be one like them.

Many people from the city ride the ferry over to the small town, and the townsfolk enjoy visitors from the city–just as long as they only visit for a few hours and then return on their way.

They townsfolk know they have a great place to live. If too many city folk invade their town, their way of simple costal living could be at risk. The problems of the city belong in the city and not in their town.

I visit this secret town as often as possible. The culture is a breath of fresh air, and I would never want to do anything to change its character. Instead, I try to bring a piece of the small town culture back to the city with me. If anything needs changing, it is the city.

During my many visits, I have met a few very friends. They recognize me as I walk down the fairy ramp, and then they shout out my name. As friends, we do not judge each other. We sit, talk, joke, and share in a drink of life, as it happens moment to moment.

But, not all is perfect. A small, but vocal, group of locals fears that my frequent visits have a sinister motive. They wonder: Why do I visit so much? Am I a commercial developer that wants to turn a quick buck by turning their town into a tourist metropolis? Am I looking for some type of fame and glory? Do I want to be mayor and change everything? Some think that I must have some hidden agenda.

The truth is much simpler. I visit because I like them and consider them my friends. I feel at home with them.

Maybe they will see that beneath my petulance, I am really one of them. Maybe they will understand that I want to share in their experiences.

I keep my visits brief, but I always savor the time spent with them while returning back to the city on the ferry ride. I bring back with me a small part of that small coastal town culture to cherish and remember as I go through the mundane routines of city life.

Every so often, a city friend will not that I seem to have a little extra bounce in my step. They ask me where I have been. I answer with a half-truth. “I have been to a Spa for a massage. You ought to try it. You will feel new again.” I don’t want to give my secret away.

Thanks for the encouragement!

Brad Shorrs last blog post..Words for Nerds - Portmanteau