IS THERE A POINT TO ANY OF THIS?

Every once in a while, my publisher asks me to digress from my legal advice format to embark on some personal journey. I took her request to heart this month, so I left the cold and snowy Pittsburgh area in early March to conduct extensive research for this month’s piece. Off I went to visit the area where my grandmother lived during an influential part of my youth.

When I was a little guy, at the ages 5, 8 and 11, my family traveled to visit my grandmother at Christmas in the historic town of St. Augustine, Florida, which touts itself as the Oldest City in the United States. The three visits kind of run together in my recollection, but some highlights are recounted for you here.

On the earliest of the three motor trips, my mother and I were in one car, following my father and my other brothers in the other car. Our family traveled during the night to avoid traffic, and there were no Interstates back then. I think we were on Route 1 when my mother’s car broke down. She pulled off the highway and hung a white hankie on her mirror, the motorist’s signal for help. Meanwhile, the other car kept hurtling through the night, oblivious to our mechanical mishaps. After a great deal of time transpired, a car stopped and a man came up to our car to render aid.

The guy turned out to be a Georgia State Trooper, who was on his way home after his shift, and he did whatever guys did to get a car going when it breaks down. He got us to the next crossroad, pushed us into a repair garage and woke up the owner. While the mechanic replaced the offending belt or hose, the trooper took my mother and me upstairs to the residence over the garage. There, the mechanic’s wife made me hot chocolate and bunked me down on the couch. In no time at all we were back on the road, at least it seemed like no time since I was fast asleep for most of the ordeal. Today, this kind of activity would probably land my mother in front of some judge having to answer for exposing me to potential highway marauders, but back then people helped each other without looking for rewards.

While in St. Augustine, we stayed at my grandmother’s house in the quaint little part of town that is reminiscent of New Orleans, where we could walk to the downtown area in just a few minutes. Her house was around the corner from a National Guard armory, which had a flag raising and lowering ceremony every day. My father had served in the second World War, which was only a few years past, so each day my brothers, my dad and I walked up to the parade grounds to stand at attention and salute the flag as it was lowered. The best part was the cannon shot that accompanied the ceremony, and you were a real tough guy if you didn’t cover your ears or flinch.

I remember one morning our family packed itself up in the car and drove down to Marineland. This was an early version of Sea World. We were there when I was an 8-year-old, and we went to this huge circular tank to watch the dolphin show. They were dancing backwards across the water, chirping at one another, and performing all of their tricks. Then it was time to feed them, and the trainer leaned out over a platform about 15 feet in the air holding a fish. The dolphins would circle around, build up speed, then leap clear out of the water to take the fish out of his hand.

We were watching all of this when I heard my name called out over the loudspeaker, “Would Chris Abernethy please come to the trainer’s platform?” My mother accompanied me to the platform, where one of the helpers slipped a yellow raincoat on me and handed me a fish.

“Lean out over the railing,” the trainer said, “and don’t move your hand.”
“Just smile,” said another. “The dolphin knows what to do.”

A minute later the big dolphin circled around in the water and came rising up out of the pool to snare that fish from my hand. I got a big round of applause, and was told to wave to the crowd. When I waved, I got another round of applause. So, of course, I waved again. By now they had a big hook around my neck and were hauling me off the platform, but my career as a ham entertainer was launched. I was the hero of the moment. Though she never admitted to it, I am certain to this day that someone’s palm was greased by my Mom to get the trainer to call me out to feed the dolphins.

Returning to the town this year, I located my grandmother’s house. It was, like most childhood memories, much smaller than it seemed when I was a pre-teen. Now it might be a little two-bedroom house, but back then it was a palatial estate. And it had a guest cottage attached to the garage, and I remember when I was 11, my older brother and I got to stay there, while our two little brothers and our folks stayed in the “Big House.” It was very cool to be camping out on our own.

Going back to the places that were influential in your youth can be rewarding and fun. You realize that after 50 years, you tend to recall many more positive things than negative ones, and that can be uplifting in these times. I highly recommend it.

Christopher M. Abernethy has been practicing law in Hampton Township since 1976. He focuses on elder law, which includes wills, trusts, powers of attorney, living wills, and probate matters. He also is proficient in all aspects of real estate law and business law. He is a member of the National Association of Elder Law Attorneys, and the AARP Legal Services Network. He can be reached at 412-486-6624 or by email at cabernethy@aaylaw.com.