It was the summer of 1989. I took my first trip all by myself to New England and the place of my birth.
Flying into Boston, I picked up a rental car and started my drive to where I would be staying for a couple of days with a relative. The drive was spectacular, and I managed to get lost twice – once leaving Boston and once outside of Salem. I found that strangers were only too happy to get me back on the right path.
I loved visiting the property/beach once owned by my grandfather. The cottage was still there with new owners who restored it to it’s original beauty. So were two other houses – one known as the “castle” where my great uncle lived. The rest of the beach was dotted with newer homes. Lots of them with wonderful views. I wish we had the property today.
Leaving for the coast of Maine proved to be something out of a storybook. I had mapped my trip to take roads off the Interstate so I could stop more easier for ice cream or sightseeing. The day was gorgeous; the views breathtaking.
As I was driving, I realized that Kennebunkport wasn’t that far off the mapped out path. So, off I went to see the lovely New England town that was known for the Bush family spending time at their summer home.
As I drove into the town, I got lost. Completely. Ahead of me was a tour bus, so I decided to follow the bus because what better way to see Kennebunkport than behind a tour bus full of tourist. Right?
The drive was awesome. I wanted to live in one of the houses, stay at one of the B&B’s or the grand hotel with the most spectacular view I had ever seen. That’s when it happened.
Traffic came to a halt. Men were walking everywhere. Men in black wearing dark sun glasses were directing traffic. What? What?
I was going to ask for directions when it hit me why there were so many men in black wearing dark sun glasses. Looking over to my right I saw it – the Bush house with the Bush family inside or maybe on the beach or maybe sailing. I was gobsmacked!
The freakin’ Bush family was in Kennebunkport, and the men in black were Secret Service agents. Yikes!
There was no time to ask questions as the men in black were directing traffic to keep moving, which I did, and promptly got lost again.
Two hours later, I was back on track and made it to my next destination in Maine.
Three weeks later, I was back in Florida having spent my vacation in Maine, New Hampshire, Vermont, and Massachusetts.
To this day, I still think about the places I visited and the sights I saw not just by myself, but with family members I had a chance to visit while on vacation.
I’ve never been back to New England, the place of my birth. I miss it to this very day.
© Catherine Evermore. All rights reserved.