Hood Canal

My brother and I were talking about how neither of us were terribly excited about the 4th of July. I mentioned that when we were kids we would always go out to our grandparent’s place on Hood Canal, swim, go crabbing, sit by the fire and light off Indian reservation fireworks; it’s tough today to compete with those memories.

Seemingly unrelated, I had been thinking about my grandfather a lot this weekend. I realized that not only was Hood Canal my favorite place to go as a kid – a place of happy family memories, but it was probably my grandfather’s favorite place in the world. He and my grandmother had a fantastic house with a great stretch of beach that they were forced to sell so he could take care of his ailing mother.

Coincidence or not, things kept coming up over the weekend that were related to my grandfather. For instance, Biff and I were in a bookstore and she asked me a question about Louis L’amour who was my grandfather’s favorite author.

Later that day I was walking down Broadway – another glorious, summer day in Seattle – when I was suddenly hit by a total sensory overload. For a second there, just for a second, I was at Hood Canal. I could smell the fire on the beach and the briney water spray, I could feel the cold rush of the water and taste that distinctive salt water. It was so sudden and so complete, that I stopped in my tracks. I was so completely back in my childhood for such a short but powerful moment. I’ve never experienced a memory flash that powerful before.

Yeah, you could explain it as the mind culling up those sense memories, especially with those memories on my mind. And I’m not a particularly religious man, but I’d like to think Grandpa Carey had something to do with it. I think that for a second there he wanted me to remember what it felt like to be a kid again out there at Hood Canal.

Thanks Big Guy!