Page 22 - Winterling's Chasing the Wind

My mother’s sister, Hazel Woodfield, was a school teacher in Asbury Park. Her present
to me on my birthday was “The Wonder Book of Knowledge”, a book that answered
almost any question an inquisitive kid would ask. My brother Richard and I always
enjoyed staying with her each summer. The boardwalk in Asbury Park was the
“Disneyland” of that era. We especially remembered driving the motor boats, pressing
the accelerator and steering the motor boats inside a fenced area. Next to the lake was
the amusement park with the huge Merry-Go-Round and a ride that went through a
darkened tunnel. It was called The Fun House, but it was very spooky.

In the darkness, we caught flickering sights of scary figures followed by the sensation
of invisible strings brushing across our faces. When we rode the giant Ferris wheel
nearby, we were carried well above the roof of the building. From the lofty ride could
view nearby Ocean Grove and the blue waters of the Atlantic Ocean. Many times at
family gatherings, Aunt Hazel would relate my 4-year old brother’s experience when
the Ferris Wheel stopped with a jerk at the top. He suddenly said, “Oh sh...t”! It was
evident that he learned the expression from our grandfather, Frank Cranmer, at the
farmhouse in Mayetta. I remember my grandmother chastising her husband one day
when he stated that he was going out in the cornfield behind the “sh…t house”.

Our mother’s brother Clinton Cranmer was a school teacher in Paterson, NJ. When he
drove in his freshly Simonized Chrysler to Mayetta, he would stop in Cranford to pick
up Richard and me to visit the farm. As we drove past Perth Amboy, we saw a beautiful
orange-roofed building that had a sign stating that it had 28 ice cream flavors. That was
the first Howard Johnson’s we had ever seen or stopped at.

A few days before Christmas when I was nine years old, I dropped a marble on the
bedroom floor. Reaching down to pick it up, I spotted a set of skis under the bed.
Obviously, I wasn’t surprised when I saw them by the tree on Christmas morning. I was
more excited by my new electric Lionel Train. I often experimented with ways to run it,
even unscrewing the locomotive’s top and just racing the electric motor and wheels off
a stretch of raised tracks that sent it flying across the room.

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