Every year my dad taught summer school. He was an English teacher at a local high school, and I don't know how he did it. I was a science teacher, and when summer rolled around, I collapsed for the first three weeks! He would arrive home about one in the afternoon, and we would be chomping at the bit for his return. We waited with swimsuits on for the daily foray to the shore. On the short trip there, my sisters and I would call out the landmarks as we drew near.

"I see the toll booth!"

"I see the anchors."

All things that brought us closer to Jones Beach. One sight we loved was the water tower, (top center). It was built because they needed height to get water pressure at sea level. The movement from three major parkways meet in a traffic circle blend at its base. When we got there we set up our spot. There was an umbrella to put up for mom, and an old-fashioned drink dispenser to put in the shade. We spread out the blanket and beach towels and raced to the water.

Sometimes the sea would be so rough you couldn't go in very far. My dad would bring us out as far as we dared go. He was an excellent swimmer and taught each of us how. While mom was coerced into donning a suit, she never went in the water. She hated the beach but endured it for us. After a swim, we baked in the sun. No one even thought about the dangers, and my mom ended up with skin cancer and my father died from it.