August 1976, I made my first visit to Cape Cod with my wife’s family. That was quite a transition for an old southern boy who grew up making family trips to the beaches along the North and South Carolina coastlines. But with each subsequent visit, Cape Cod continued to hook my heart.
After a seven year hiatus, thirty two family members returned to the Cape in late July. We descended upon Falmouth. Disappointment never intruded.
From our first glimpse of the rugged Bourne Bridge to the last spoonful of clam chowder at Pier 37 Boathouse, we made the most of our week.
Scrunched in three houses, our daily treks to the beach required the logistical precision of a military landing. But once there, we appreciated the well maintained beaches and the attentive lifeguards.
We loved our outing to watch a Cape Cod League baseball game as the Falmouth Commodores battled the Hyannis Harbor Hawks. It was clear from the attendance that your citizens appreciate what this league brings to each community.
No matter where we ventured, the merchants and local residents were polite and helpful.
On our last morning, some of us took the short hike to The Knob. We were not disappointed with the spectacular water views.
And in all honesty, I think that is what I admire the most about the character of Cape Cod—the capacity to hold and preserve cherished land.
I pray your hearts never let go of that gritty grip.
Author’s note: This post was submitted to the Cape Cod Times as a letter to the editor. I thought the editor/s might take a complimentary letter about the hospitality we experienced while vacationing there. Clearly, I thought wrong. Be safe, Bill
might be baloney 