I remember the summer vacations of my childhood and the days spent in a wonderful place called Rockport. 

Nearly every July of my childhood, my maternal grandparents, Joe and Ethel Sneed would rent a house in (Key Allegro) Rockport.  The Sneed offspring and their offspring would spend a wonderful month together in our "summer home".

We grandkids were kept in line for the preceding weeks with threats of not being able to go if we didn't behave.  Even the adults looked forward to the event and could barely contain their excitement. 

The days leading up to the start of our Rockport adventure were thrilling and busy.  There was the gathering of the necessary items:  bed linens, pillow, cots, beach towels, swimming suits, cooking utensils, food, ice chests, and of course, the fishing equipment.

There were long distance phone calls from Uncle Charles and Aunt LaVerne in Bakersfield California, informing Nana and Granddaddy that they were leaving for Texas the following morning, and nightly updates as to their progress.  "Countdown to Uncle Charles" began.

The day would finally arrive and we would set out from Refugio in two and sometimes three cars.   We children could hardly sit still.  As we headed toward our destiny, we'd talk and sometimes argue about what we were going to do, and who would be the first to do what when we got there.   If we were lucky, we were in Uncle Charles' station wagon in the lead car.  If we had been unlucky, we were in the car with Granddaddy going 15 miles under the speed limit. 

As soon as we came to the causeway over Copano Bay, we'd roll down the windows and take in the scent of summer.  Rockport has a scent all of it's own:  warm sand, bay leaves, oak, cedar, creosote, sea breeze and oleander.  It was fresh, and invigorating, and once you've smelled it, it stays in your soul forever.

The days spent in our summer home were filled with sugar cookies, crab gumbo, Mrs. Henkehaus' homemade beets, coffee, gallons of Kool-Aide, fried frish, broiled fish, peanut butter and mayonnaise sandwiches and other delicacies. 

There was a million things to do in Rockport:  trips to the beach where Uncle Charles would tease us until Nana made him stop; building sandcastles; tending jellyfish stings with the mud from the bay; sitting on the deck on the Fourth of July to watch the fireworks display; the annual art show where Uncle Joe would show off his painting talent.  There were crabbing and fishing expeditions as well as going to play putt-putt golf.

Then there were the visits from the "Bay City Bunch", Nana's sister, Aunt Bea, her husband Uncle Bill (Gordon), their children and grandchildren.

There was most always a game of cards going.  The adults would play Shanghai practically around the clock.  The cards were always on the table ready to be dealt.  Woe to any child who messed with them.  Being included in the card game was a right of passage.  That was the signal you were considered "old enough".

The very first house I recall was destroyed by Hurricane Celia.  We also stayed in a house, known to us as the "Captains" house several years in a row.  A time or two a condo was rented.  The last house Nana and Granddaddy rented was out on Fulton Beach Road in the summer of 1981.  I was going into my senior year of high school and thought I knew it all.  Rockport had almost lost all of it's charm for me.  That was the summer Lady Diana Spencer married Prince Charles.  I remember Nana waking me up very early that morning so that I could watch the ceremony on television.  "It's history in the making." she said.   At the time, I could have cared less.

Aunt Bea died in '77.  We lost Granddaddy in December '83.  Nana quickly joined him a few months later.  Uncle Charles and Uncle Joe both passed away in 2001.  Mother is the last.  She had tried before her brothers died, to keep the tradition going.  Health and other issues have prevented it.

I never did get to play Shanghai with the "adults" in Rockport. By the time I was old enough, I had no interest.  Life took me far from Rockport for a while.  Now I am closer and I take my kids down for the day.  As soon as we get to the causeway, I roll down my window to take in the sweet scent of my childhood.