Return to Ocean Beach

Waves from the incoming tide carelessly slap the weathered post and beam foundation of the pier at Ocean Beach. The now-familiar sound jerked at the memory of when Andy first saw an ocean. That day was just six months ago.

An effervescent blue sky, deep as the color of Texas grass sage- growing wild on the endless prairie- guides Andy as he walks the remaining street blocks to the Danceland Coliseum on the Connecticut coast. Tonight will be Andy's first social event of any kind since joining the navy as a sailor six months ago in Dallas. It hadn't been a difficult decision to enlist, quite frankly, no decision at all when every other option ceased to exist with no work available for itinerant farm boys without prospects and a tenth grade rural education attained in a small, one room schoolhouse in the Rock Creek Community.

"I want to see you so bad, but if we never again meet in this world I want us all to meet in the next." were the greivous words written in a letter to Andy from his older sister, Sarah. An abundance of love in every letter from family helped make the bitter truth of hard times back home seem almost palatable.
Time seemed to stand still during basic training, allowing Andy to catch up with his peers in manners and social custom. He'd worked hard to lose the west Texas twang in his speech. Looking back, he felt a hot rush of embarrassment for that ignorant boy whose existence seemed like a surreal dream. Someone he had heard about but had never met and who seemed now a separate being from himself.

The concentration of these memories aided the impetus of a vigorous stride when suddenly the salt air in a cool, Atlantic breeze jolted Andy back to the reality of his purpose this evening. He could see the impressive Coliseum in the distance and was approaching the boardwalk. The shops on the boardwalk are closed now but there is a little time to look through some of the windows, lighted by a full moon.

Faded, thick, southern pine wood planks bordered by glorious white crystal sand , flavored the strength of the experience for Andy. He felt a powerful connection to the moment by means of the surroundings. The kind of connection one is lucky to feel maybe twice in a lifetime. Was this some ancient pentameter exacted by an ancestral primaeval force? A unity of purpose and motive with a supernatural drive? If so, Andy welcomed it.

Stopping to check his reflection in one of the shop windows, Andy didn't immediately recognize himself. Startled by this, he reviewed the features of the figure standing before him. The benefit of three square meals each day along with the physical training created a lean yet substantial appearance that now defined his 5'11" frame. The blue naval service uniform detailed a newfound fitness and muscle tone. A pride swelled in Andy that he had never known before, alien yet wondrous.

Andy knew that he wanted to keep the memory of this distinct moment with him forever. He was owed this, at least. Then he abruptly remembered all the other failed wanting of his life. Andy had wanted his mother to live, but she still died of tuberculosis when he was three and dad had died last year. Hard fought for crops had failed, the farm was repossessed, and his remaining family now separated. All had occurred, in spite of his tremendous wanting of an opposite outcome.

So he pressed the memory as hard as he could into an imaginary snapshot in his mind where he willed it to stay forever. Something dormant in Andy had now surfaced, affecting his normally easy going nature and pleasant demeanor. Not at all certain how to label the emotion, nor how to care for it, he tried to tuck it away quickly for later examination and thought, then continued walking toward the Coliseum.

Continuing to narrow the distance to about fifty feet between himself and the Coliseum. Andy could see the couples and singles pouring in through the double doors at the entrance. Many enlisted men he knew stood outside smiling and laughing together in anticipation of the evening festivities. In polite fashion, each one smiled and nodded a healthy "hello" as Andy's right foot nimbly secured the first step in the short climb to the platform leading to the doorway and through the threshold.

Each acknowledgment seemed to Andy as an eternal stamp of acceptance to a rank outside that of his current Seaman First Class. A rank that requires no special insignia or stripe, posing no personal limits in that regard. Entering the great Coliseum he was handed a program detailing the events and dances scheduled for the evening. The program was small, made of heavy parchment and bound in the left corner by a blue silk tassel. The ornate script lettering on the outside cover read:

Dance
in honor of the
Commander Submarine Force, U.S. Fleet
and Staff, and
Officers and Crew of the U.S.S. Bushnell
"Danceland", Ocean Beach
Monday, June 22nd, 1936
Dancing 9.00 p.m. to 1.00 a.m.
Music by Harry Neilan and his Orchestra

Andy held the program tightly as he looked around the crowded, noisy ballroom in an effort to regain his bearings. This is real, not some imagined third rate dream he reminded himself. The door to the future is open now and he was on the other side, ready to experience all that may come his way. Just then, a fellow enlisted friend motioned to him to join a table of seamen and their dates. Andy felt relieved at the invitation, then with confidence quickly sat down, blending right in with the company and conversation. He hadn't ever really been so far removed, after all.