Hi Dad:
Here's something to add to the family tree if feel it belongs there.
Laura

Grammie (Elaine) Atkinson
Grandpa (Fred) Atkinson

Grandpa (Fred) Atkinson owned a lobster boat named the “Four Sons”. The one
I remember the most had a huge steel lookout tower that could be climbed on.
His boat was docked at the Green Harbor Marina.  He was always tinkering
with the engine and fixing traps and ropes.  When he brought us out on the
ocean, we would help him bring up the traps, spot the buoys, and fish off
the back of the boat.  He would let the grandchildren steer the boat, and
the ones who were too small to see, he would lift up.

One particular time, Shae and I slept over at the beach house.  We were
pretty young at the time. I recall a room upstairs with two beds, and a rope
edging to the room. This room had one window that you could view the ocean.
We would bounce from bed to bed until Grammies voice would say: “What are
you girls doing up there”. We quickly giggled: “Nothing Grammie.” That was
our clue that we’d better go to sleep.

The next morning, Grandpa made breakfast…two sunny side up eggs and toast.
I had never seen sunny side eggs quite like this, and bluntly refused to eat
them. I remembering him asking me: “Well, if you aren’t going to eat this,
then what do you want?” I requested: “a ketchup sandwich”. And that’s
exactly what arrived on my plate: two pieces of bread with ketchup
in-between.

I once asked why Grammie and Grandpa didn’t share a bedroom at 7 South
Street.  Grammie told me it was because Grandpa snored like a chainsaw. I
believed her.

Most every weekend my parents (Rick and Paula Atkinson) would bring a Dunkin
Donuts coffee down to Grammy at her consignment shop or down to Grandpa
Green Harbor Marina. While they were visiting with Gram, my sister Shae
(Sharon) and I would be scouring through the latest treasures that Grammie
had for sale. There were always buckets and trays of costume jewelry for
Shae and I to sift through. In the 1980s, the jewelry trays were filled with
rhinestone treasures and costume pieces. Or if for some strange reason the
store was closed, my mom would “set” Grammies hair. This tradition
continued for years and years.

When I was about 10 years old, I discovered a pair of ballet toe-shoes,
which Grammie sold to me for $3.00. She sold them to me on one condition:
“Laura, be super careful dancing on your toes.” I promised I would. I
promptly stubbed both my big toes in an attempt to be “on pointe”. I should
have listened.

Grammie was always ready for a card game. Being asked to go to the dresser
drawer to get a fresh pack of cards was quite the honor amongst the
grandchildren, mostly because we knew that we would find a shiny quarter
being slipped to us for running that simple errand. They were famous for
giving each grandchild a dollar and shipping us off to the penny candy store
to buy some treats.

One of my earliest memories was playing underneath Grammie and Grandpa’s
kitchen table with my cousin Sean. (The table had a foot rest area) Sean
and I would reenact the car chase scenes from Hawaii 5-0 or pretend that we
were invisible hiding there when Grammie or Grampa called for us.

I don’t ever remember Grammie or Grampie walking on the beach, only up at
the house, on the porch or sitting on the seawall. I remember binoculars
always near the window.

I took my first 35 mm camera photo of Brant Rock beach at sunset not
thinking that black and white film won’t capture color. Grammie told me of
all the pictures that were taken there before, of cousins and aunts and
uncles who I never heard of before. She would tell me about when the
seawall was constructed and how they were the first house on the front that
actually built stairs to get down to the beach. When I showed her my first
photograph, and said that I didn’t like it and was going to through it away,
she said to me: “No dear, this picture is fine. Sunsets aren’t always
about color. Keep this in your photo book.” I did.

One very hot night, all of the aunts, uncles, and cousins were together for
a lobster feast. July 4th bonfire parties were fun and wild, and I remember
tons of laughter. The cousins (Sean, Sherri, Christine, Jennifer, Shae and
myself) would often times hang out on the porch linking the main house with
the apartment. We would play “Truth or Dare” or sing, or just chat. The
four brothers were quite the pranksters with each other. Shae and I made up
a song and a poster board about “Frank Perdue” because one of our Uncles was
“caught” with a forbidden fork at the Medieval Manor and was required to eat
chicken without using his hands. The end of the evening was spent playing a
very competitive game of “Trivial Pursuit” around the kitchen table. I
don’t remember what team actually won that night, but I remember very lively
conversation.

After my son, Zachary got to be a little older and taller, he stood next to
Grammie (who was then shrinking because of osteoporosis) and innocently
whispered to me: "When is Grammie going to grow up? I am almost as tall as
her!" I think Grammie was amused.

The door on the house of 7 South Street was never locked.