I have been reading in my 1982 journal and this date, thirty years ago, the Atlantic Ocean got the better of Dad. We were at Carlina Beach, North Carolina, back then, just wrapping up a week at the beach.
In the morning, Dad and I went out to look at the lake and Sugar Loaf to look at the old Confederate positions from the Civil War. When we got back, we went swimming one last time in the ocean. This is where I pick up that day:
"We all went swimming one more time this morning. The ocean has been very rough ever since we got here and it nearly claimed "Surfer Bud." Dad had gotten out further than he deemed safe and decided to ride a wave back in. Unfortunately, he picked the wrong wave. I had been going over the top of waves, but decided to go under this one as it looked particularly violent. It grabbed Dad and threw him with the awesome forse it possessed headfirst into the bottom. This gave him a concussion and hurt his back badly.
At first, I thought he was just kidding, but soon noticed the pain was real. He scared me badly. At first, he couldn't see anything, but gradually the sight came back. I was more worried about the pain in his back. He refused to let us call an ambulance and walked back to the cottage. After he took a shower, we took him to the Federal Point Medical Center, but it was closed so we went back to the cottage, finished packing , and Mom drove Dad, Andy and Chris back to Goldsboro. (The Prince Reunion was the next day.)"
I Sure Remember This Event. --RoadDog
"Big Red" Returns to Route 66
1 hour ago