When I was
quite young my mother would pack us lunches for an all day excursion to Carson
Beach. We would leave West Fifth St., climb Old Harbor St., circle Telegraph
Hill, descend the “Golden Steps” and eventually land at the beach. It was
always best when the tide was all the way out. I would take my pail and gather
as many small crabs that I found in the tidal pools. The older boys taught me
that if I stomped hard on the wet sand the clams would emit a stream of water from
below. So I would spend hours doing just that. What fun. It is amazing what
will entertain a young mind.
The only time I looked up is when a low flying DC-3 airplane was heading for Logan. I used to wave believing they could see me. Maybe they could, I will never know. Other small military planes landed across the Bay at Squantum. You would think with so much interest in marine life and aviation I would have become either a Marine Biologist or a pilot. It was not meant to be. I settled for being a Civil/Environmental Engineer.
The only time I looked up is when a low flying DC-3 airplane was heading for Logan. I used to wave believing they could see me. Maybe they could, I will never know. Other small military planes landed across the Bay at Squantum. You would think with so much interest in marine life and aviation I would have become either a Marine Biologist or a pilot. It was not meant to be. I settled for being a Civil/Environmental Engineer.
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