 |
|
 |
 |
Santa Cruz Beach, 1949
This is picture of my Mom and Dad with
my sister and brother at the boardwalk in 1949. I especially
like the shirt and tie on my Dad!
Monica Kenneally |
|
 |
|
I Remember When, 1964
I was just a little kid, but I remember the Fun House on the
Boardwalk with the giant wooden slide, the spinning disc, the
wavy walkway, and basically the wonderful atmosphere of the Boardwalk.
I remember my big sister taking me to the Boardwalk when you
could actually go "Under the Boardwalk" as the tune
goes.. I loved going under the Boardwalk, because it was nice
and cool under there, and I could rest from body surfing on my
boogie board. Of course, after an hour of surfing, my big
sister and her friends liked to smoke cigarettes under the Boardwalk,
unbeknownst to our parents!
When I was 12 years old, my big sister talked me into going
on the Giant Dipper. Needless to say, I was terrified to
death, and lost one of my flip-flops!
I am now 47 years old with an 11 year-old daughter, and I can
STILL ride the Giant Dipper.....with my arms up the ENTIRE ride!
I still have that wonderful feeling of nostalgia when my family
and I visit the Beach and Boardwalk. From the old rides
to the new ones, from the indoor arcade to the tide rolling in,
from the candy apples to the FREE Friday night concerts.....I
love you, Santa Cruz Beach and Boardwalk!
Robin |
|
|
|
Summer Vacations, 1950s
 My
earliest remembrances of the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk are of my
family's annual summer vacations in the mid 1950s.
My mother and little French grandmother would rent connecting rooms
at a small motel on Riverside, just a block from the Beach Boardwalk
(the motel is still there) and we'd spend each day of our week at
the beach, playing on the Boardwalk, getting tan, making sand castles,
and trapping sand crabs in our bucket then releasing them. I remember
that bubbles would rise from the sand after each wave telling us
where to dig to find the sand crabs, which we called sand fleas.
A highlight of a week's stay would be a ride on the Giant Dipper,
which seemed at the time to be the tallest and most thrilling structure
on earth.  More
frequently, we would get a ride in something more sedate like the
tunnel of love or some other dark ride which for teens was a chance
to make out, but for us kids was a fantasy world. Or, we'd
walk through one of the fun houses. The arcade was filled
with small souvenir shops and carnival styled games of chance. Popeye
was my favorite character, so when we got treated to a souvenir
at the end of our annual week, I chose a corn cob pipe to the distress
of my mother and the delight of my grandfather who kidded her about
how I was sure to turn out.
The early '50s was the dawn of television. Motels would promote
the fact that they had TVs and a heated swimming pool; now considered
necessities. So, my mother picked those that had these luxuries. Each
Friday night, my father and grandfather - who worked together in
the City - would arrive to watch the Friday Night Fights, as the
women sat around the kitchen table talking in French so we kids
wouldn't understand (right!) while listening to music on the radio. We
would play board games or cards (Old Maid, Fish). I can still
hear the play-by-play of the ring announcer, mixed with music, the
hushed talk of the women and our arguments over Chutes and Ladders.
Also in my recollections are the sounds of tropical big band music
(Hawaii, Cuba,Brazil) that I remember wafting from the Cocoanut
Grove on Saturday nights.  Occasionally
my folks would join others from their fashionable generation to
dance or listen to big bands. There was always some sort of
exotic cocktail (rum and Coke in an ice-jammed tumbler garnished
with mint and a cherry) to precede their annual soiree at the Cocoanut
Grove. To settle our distress over their being out for the
evening, they'd pour us pre-dance treats of Roy Rogers or Shirley
Temples. We reasoned that we'd let them go dancing at the
Cocoanut Grove any night, as long as we were treated to sparkling
syrupy drinks with cherries in them.
On weekends, the Suntan Special would arrive, filled with beach
goers to play at the Boardwalk and listen to bands that would play
on the bandstand. Then, the train's olive-brown coaches would
wait for the black engine to huff again, bellow its whistle and
carry the cocoa-butter-scented revelers back to the Peninsula. I
loved that train and the adventure it conveyed.
We'd buy fresh fish on the Pier and chocolate covered bananas and
salt water taffy on the Boardwalk, but memories like these, aren't
for sale. They are, however, still available for free at the
Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk.
John Poimiroo |
|
|
Grandparents on the Pleasure Pier, 1917
Tish
Denevan |
|
My grandparents were regular
visitors to Santa Cruz thoughout their lives. They took the train
at least once a year from downtown San Jose through the Santa Cruz
Mountains to spend a week at the beach. If you lived in San Jose,
you just natually spent time at the Boardwalk and the beach. A
tradition observed faithfully for over 100 years by my family.
The middle couple
are my grandparents Minna and Will Carey.
This
photo is taken from the pleasure pier about 1917. Will's father,
Patrick Carey, was familiar with Santa Cruz from having worked
as a lumberjack in Zayante right after his discharge from the Union
Army in 1865. |
|
|
|
Sisters, 1925
My mother and her older sister pose for the
camera at a Boardwalk photo concession in 1925.
Tish Denevan |
|
 |
|
|
 |
|
