Dave, Sue, John, and Peggy cling to an inflatable raft in the bay at Newport Harbor next to our house.
Peggy and Sue play in the muddy sand by the water.
David and Sue play in the sand by the ocean.
We spent summers at the beach. Grandma and Grandad would rent a house in Newport Beach, down in Orange County. We rented the same house every year, for most of the summer. Grandma continued this tradition after Grandad’s death, and I think we spent summers there through most of the 1960s. It was in Newport Harbor, on a little island, surrounded by waterways for people in boats to navigate out to the ocean and back. The house had a short pier leading down to a dock on the water.
We didn’t have a boat, but we had paddle boards, inner tubes, and other water toys. Peggy and I used to paddle all around the marina, checking out all the boats. It was quite a maze.
Every year, we stayed in that house all summer. Peggy and I would spend our days in the water, going down to the ocean beach to play in the surf, going out on the Newport Pier or the Huntington Pier and trying to catch little fish on a dropped line. Sometimes we’d go down to the Balboa Fun Zone and spend our nickels on rides and games, trying to save up win tickets to get good prizes.
The “back yard” of the house was a concrete patio with a large picnic table. There was a big barbecue grill off to one side, and lots of chairs. People would come visit us all summer, and we’d cook fish on that grill. We had some great times there.
On Sunday mornings we had church in the house. We’d pray, sing songs, read the Bible. Grandma would help me prepare a devotional talk from some resources she provided.
In the evenings when we didn’t have visitors we’d play bingo or some other games. Grandma used to wrap up little prizes in paper to award the winners. When I got older they tried to teach me to play bridge, because they needed a fourth player, but I never really caught on.
This is a map of Newport Harbor – the red arrow points to the location of the house we always stayed at. (Click to enlarge for viewing.) It was on a tiny triangular island, called “Newport Island,” but it isn’t labeled on the map. We kids were allowed to paddle around the island on our inflatable rafts, but not to go past the big bridge that led into the main part of the harbor.
I loved being in the water, and would spend hours floating around that harbor.
People would come down from all over LA and Orange counties to visit us while we were there each summer. We typically had our meals out on the back patio, and we’d grill fish on a big barbecue that was installed out there. The weather was always good. This meal is with Walter’s son Merrill Jessup and his family. I think I must have taken the picture.
This was a special event, with both sets of grandparents present. I was the center of attention, because I was taking off for a seven-week trip to Europe with a group from my high school. The year was 1968.
These photos were taken in 1962 on the little pier that led from our back patio down to the dock for our house.
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