Mom-Mom Gets Lost in North Wildwood

This past summer 2011 my Mother (Mom- Mom ~ Gee-Gee Marie Van Blunk) got lost in North Wildwood, New Jersey. My Mother is 81 years old and has been coming to this Blue Collar Riviera since the early years of World War II. She punches-up this point the best way—with a story: She went to the beach one day during those years wearing a light colored bathing suit…At the end of the day the suit was soiled with heavy oil which came from sunken convoy ships in the Nazi U-Boat patrolled North Atlantic…

Mom-Mom enjoying the bay views

…My Mother has a thick head of grey hair and a solid physique that chronically aches and creaks but almost always keeps her upright and moving forward whenever she desires to do so…Or when a family service is required. For the most part she still does her own shopping, banking and other weekly errands on foot. Aside from my own 56 year old welfare, she inquires and comments about that of her children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren on a routine basis. We also gossip regularly about what’s left of our old 2nd street South Philadelphia neighborhood and the remnants of our immediate/extended family. On occaission she tells me family secrets, anecdotes and lore dating back to the turn of the last century. And it is all very good stuff as plain and simple as it is…But my roundabout point is this: Great- Granny Marie suffers in no way, shape or form from dementia or any other serious mental or psychological impairment. The day she got lost in North Wildwood, she just got lost…The big difference was the day she got lost she was pushing her sixmonth old grand-daughter—Everly Faith Van Blunk—in an open stroller…

...Some old friends had rented a house on 14th Street for a couple of weeks and near the end of that stay they had a classic lateafternoon barbecue. All of those invited had grown up together in the city and also spent time together as children, teens and young adults in The Wildwoods every summer. In young married life we continued to spend time together at the shore. Then we started to bring our infants and toddlers with us. Later still, we brought our adolescents and young teen-agers along as well. Through these years it was mostly the beach, the waterparks, crabbing trips and the Boardwalk that we all shared at least once or twice a season. Later in the summer evenings we’d have some drinks and inevitably reminisce about the freespirited often raucous golden summers behind us. Now in our mid-fifties we still try to get together at least once or twice a summer to re-capture the Wildwood magic with stories and laughter and it always works in spite of the wisp of melancholy that might come at the end of such nights. And that’s what the barbecue was all about…I don’t really have to tell you… Like some massive harmless cult we all do it more or less the same, year after year, until finally there are no more years or none of us left to gather…

…My work schedule would not allow me to attend the barbecue but many of the old gang were there including my brother Bob and his wife Jennifer. You might say their six month old baby girl Everly was a new and special guest. My mother was the oldest attendee and she knew all of the others, some from when they were in grade school with me…So it was a cozy/comfy South Philly in North Wildwood scene, mid-August height of summer…Then my mother decided to take her Grandaughter for a stroller ride through the neighborhood in the soothing late afternoon light.

…Mom-Mom enjoyed looking at some of the older single “seashore homes” that she first encountered on her walk. They reminded her of many good times all those summers ago when she was a little girl, a bony teen, a young woman, wife and mother…Then the old buildings began to dwindle along with her reverie and a very different kind of landscape began to appear rather quickly. They were big concrete buildings that killed much of the natural light and turned it into dank shadows. All of this struck my mother as unnatural and vaguely ominous…Why bring on the night any sooner than need be?

…She pushed the stroller a few more blocks and things became less familiar. Baby Everly, kicking her feet, was awake, alert and pleasant. A panic was slowly rising in the psychological distance but Mom-Mom beat it back by admitting to her situation. She realized that all she had to do was find other people but thus far none were on the streets in this barren concrete canyon. They didn’t appear to be in any of the buildings either. Not even on the outdoor balconies. There wasn’t a beach towel or bathing suit hanging from the railings. But Mom-Mom kept pushing the stroller like a lost sailor (with precious cargo) on an endless asphalt sea…Then she spotted an older “Seashore House” in-between all the new buildings. People were on the porch with children and dogs. Fried flounder was in the air. Beach blankets were draped over the porch railings. They were familiar flags that went along with a familiar scene. It might as well have been a lighthouse. Without hesitation Mom-Mom approached the summer porch dwellers and announced to them that she was lost and asked, “Could you call 911?” Baby Everly was still kicking and sucking her tiny pink thumb…

Epilogue When Mom-Mom didn’t return to the barbecue soon enough all of those present went into gear. My brother Bob went into high alert then def-con three by crisiscrossing the immediate neighborhood then marching up and down a large section of the Boardwalk. Several of our friends went out (on foot or by car)—Posse Style—looking for Mom-Mom and Little Baby Evy. It was like a short seashore version of John Ford’s classic film, “The Searchers.”

…One of our oldest friends, Mike Morley (cousin to Cozy), called the police and reported the situation. The police responded in a professional but routine manner that Mike found wanting. He repeated, in his view, the seriousness of the situation. They said they would get on it. And they did. They shortly found Mom-Mom and Baby Evy and everybody got a happy ending for a change. Back at the house the police explained something to the BBQ Ranch Searchers that they already knew: It happens all the time, all summer long, every summer…Mom-Mom, Aunt Pitty-Pat or Uncle Ernie get bored at the party. They ask to take the latest baby snookums out for a stroller ride for a breath of fresh air and some exercise…And they get lost in an old once familiar neighborhood that just isn’t old or familiar anymore…This trip must be like somekind of reverse or warped mirage of memory and the mind. Some call it progress or success. Others call it sad. And there are others still, like my Mother, who simply get lost in that eternal place where the past and the present intersect…

Mom-Mom enjoying a precious moment with baby Everleigh	Mom-Mom and Everleigh at the playground
Mom-Mom at Everleigh’s christening	Mom-Mom with her great-granddaughter on the boardwalk tea cups