A Family At The Birthplace Of The American Revolution

When we packed ourselves into our brand new Chevy Suburban back in 1991, we were headed to the east coast. And we were traveling in style. Click here to read about the most epic of road trips! 

In June 1991, we arrived in Newburyport, MA (well, Plum Island more specifically), to our mom’s parents summer cottage. The humidity and smell of the sea was over bearing and in my young, 5 year old mind, I recall the oppression and heat that wrapped itself around my small frame. I loved it. We all did.

As a family, we traveled around the Boston / Seabrook / Newburyport / Plum Island areas taking in the sights, walking the Freedom Trail, shopping in the markets and antique flea markets, and learning about how American came to be. 

When we look at this photograph, we’re filled with nostalgia and are reminded of specific moments in time that have been buried beneath an overall memory. As pointless as this shot might seem to the random observer, to us, it’s an impactful moment that shows us as a whole - all together, all doing and looking at their own thing. Together, but each lost in their own thoughts. 

Perhaps our love for our country budded from this trip. Perhaps our parents taking us on this excursion when we were young was done not only to visit family, but to also learn about the history of the United States. Intentional or not, the walks and exploration, just like the one shown here, has stayed with us forever. 

And forever, we are thankful. 

(Pictured from left to right: Ray (our dad), Jessica, Josh, Molly and Jeani (our mom).