What Did Summer Mean? - Dr. Ed Iannuccilli
Monday, July 19, 2021
There are so many good things about the summer season, one I have loved since my youth. The sun shines brightly during the day (well . . . most days), and the clear night sky is crammed with stars and planets with the moon as maître d. It’s astonishing, peaceful, pleasant, and relaxing.
On a summer night in my boyhood, Dad might be listening to a Red Sox game, his ear caressing the radio; people were out on their porches, chatting softly in cadence while avoiding the heat of a small tenement, or I was just lying in bed thinking of tomorrow.
It was the most entertaining season for we kids, enjoying it to the fullest because there was no school for two months, no getting up early, no homework, though toward summer’s end many of us had pencil boxes packed and ready for our return to school.
GET THE LATEST BREAKING NEWS HERE -- SIGN UP FOR GOLOCAL FREE DAILY EBLASTIt was my favorite season because the weather allowed for outdoor activities with little fuss (no coats, snowshoes, gloves, scarves). In our safe neighborhood, we were free to do almost whatever we wanted, within reason, of course. The only break was the one for lunch to fill our growling stomachs, and the only curfew was the after supper, “Come home when the streetlights go on.”
The lengthy vacation was time for fun with little to think about save for swimming, street games, kite flying, baseball, the summer shore, outdoor movies, ice cream, lemonade popsicles, cicadas, fireflies, the carnival and more. The heat was our ticket to jump into a pool, drink an ice-cold Nehi orange soda, or suck on a popsicle.
I woke to the sun beaming into my room, the sounds of birds chirping, of Grandpa working his garden, the smell of the grape arbor and the apple tree just under my window. I thought of the warm, juicy tomatoes in that garden, ready for picking, salting and munching.
But what I appreciated most was the days when my parents rented a home at the Narragansett, RI shore. Awakening to the sound of lapping waves and calm days with clear blue skies, we walked to the cool ocean, the hot sand beneath our feet. It was a time to relax with friends and family at the beach and then to have dinner on the deck at day’s end, after a cold shower with Ivory soap and then to don a cozy sweatshirt.
I know now how lucky I was and today, I realize it even more. There seemed to be a decency and civility in our lives . . . little rage, no fury, hardly any anger, no shootings. Our hard-working grandparents and parents offered us a link to happiness and opportunity, and we celebrated it.
From immigrants to our shores, my grandparents among them, came optimism, a future, a nation that seemed together, reflected perhaps in the simplicity of a summer day’s delight.
Summer meant being who we wanted, when we wanted, and with the time to enjoy it all.
Dr. Ed Iannuccilli is the author of three popular memoirs, “Growing up Italian; Grandfather’s Fig Tree and Other Stories”, “What Ever Happened to Sunday Dinner” and “My Story Continues: From Neighborhood to Junior High.” Learn more here.
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