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My parents brought me here and then I brought them here. The park has changed a little bit but everything else is basically just the same as it was when I was nine, or when they were nine.

Asking for quarters for the telescopes on the pier and parents saying no.
Looking into the buckets of the people fishing, watching the fish flop around.
Dodging seagulls and pigeons.
The loudspeaker calling out orders from the roof of Ruby’s Diner.
Peeking through the cracks into the water underneath.
Standing at the very end of the pier, sometimes getting lucky and seeing a whale or a seal or a pod of dolphins playing close.
The creak of the swingset. The splash of the showers.

It all sounds the same, it all smells the same, it all feels the same.

I remember when you could eat on the roof at Ruby’s. I remember thinking a vanilla Coke was just about the best thing in the entire world. I remember my stepdad challenging us to tie cherry stems into a knot in our mouths, and how I always could. I remember my sons begging for more time to climb the triangle structure, always wanting to go higher and stay at the top. I remember pushing my daughters on the swings forever and ever. I remember when the line to the bathroom was out the door and around the corner, and I was about six, and my mom marched us past the entire line and into the stall no one wanted to use because it had no door, and she held a towel up for me so I could go, and I figured everyone in there must think we were the smartest people in the world. I remember in high school when I brought my boyfriend/husband here and he spent his first paycheck on a long black flowery dress for me.

I remember so much and yet on this day it all overlapped and seemed like it never happened, like it wasn’t me and it wasn’t them in those memories. It can’t possibly have been us, because those people aren’t us now and they still exist don’t they? Somehow? I felt heavy with all the experiences I have had here, heavy with time and age, with shock that so much life and tragedy and happiness has passed and the swings are still creaking, the speaker on top of Ruby’s is still calling out orders, and the kids are still climbing higher, and higher, to the top.

 

Swing from Tara Whitney on Vimeo.

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27 Comments

  1. “I remember so much and yet on this day it all overlapped and seemed like it never happened, like it wasn’t me and it wasn’t them in those memories. It can’t possibly have been us, because those people aren’t us now and they still exist don’t they? Somehow? I felt heavy with all the experiences I have had here, heavy with time and age, with shock that so much life and tragedy and happiness has passed”

    I haven’t watched the video yet but this had tears forming in my eyes. This is why the one thing on my bucket list was to work with you because you GET it.

    xoxo

  2. Well, then. That made me cry. Your babies are all grown up . . . And so, actually, are mine! Where did that time go? (The days are long, but the years, short…as they say.) Beautiful captures, my friend . . .

  3. My Grandparents had a duplex on the Balboa peninsula – I grew up going to the bay on “G” street .. walking downtown or riding my bike to pick up 2 loaves of bread from the bakery for our sandwiches .. and eating 4 or more slices on the way back… the walks to the pier and the walks to the jetty … watching the boats go by on the bay … seeing Buddy Ebsen on his boat and yelling “Hello Mr. Ebsen!” and him smiling and waving back… waiting for “Fun Zone” night .. riding the small Ferris wheel – playing the “poker” game where you rolled the ball down the ramp and it was exciting when you got the tickets so you could claim a prize… eating frozen bananas … dipped in sprinkles…getting our annual bathing suits at the little store downtown.. going with my grandfather downtown to look at the “fishes” at the Pavillion .. stopping at the drug store for a paper (and he would usually buy me a comic book)

    When my grandparents retired and then sold the duplex we started having our family vacations in rentals in Newport beach .. we’d still go down to downtown Balboa.. Up until 2010 .. I had only missed two years of beach time – I was 51 at the time..(and I moved to AZ in 2004!) … I think the last time I was there was 2012 – Boy oh boy .. I miss the beach (I have three pictures in my craft room – of the Ferry, the Pavilion, and the Ferry sign…

    Thank you for bringing up the memories!!!

  4. Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?

    The bittersweet poignancy as your memories play side by side with this moment is palpable. Oh man the tears flow.

  5. What an incredibly moving and beautiful post. I admire your honesty & treasure your talent. I’m with Monica … you’ve been on my Bucket List for years & posts like this remind me why. Thank you.

  6. Of all the photos, and of all the stories I shave read and poured over, this post is one of my favorites. It hit me right in that spot where the tears flow. So beautiful Tara. So beautiful.

  7. tara- I have been your fan for a really long time without commenting but this post is just so special! I love the way you document and write about your family (and other families!). So beautiful.
    I am curious how you organize and print the photos of your family (Into albums, books, etc). It’s something I find challenging so I always like hearing how other people do that. Thanks for all the inspiration!

  8. Yes. Just yes. Except for me it’s the Seal Beach pier. Bonfires and first kisses and pushing 2 year olds on the swings and watching them grow up running down the pier.

    Beautiful photos, beautiful words.

  9. where did the time go? I just said out loud, ” that CAN’T be Tara’s kids! They’re still just little, aren’t they?” Wow! You’ve done a wonderful job Mama. Even a stranger can see that.

  10. Hey Tara… I follow your work since forever and I’m pretty sure that I already saw this post but I’ve just stumbled on it today… oh man… what to say? I also have a very special place here in Brasil that I go since I was I little girl and now I take my little girls there… I can FEEL ya, every single word…. They grow so fast… we grow too fast… You’re such an inspiration for me! Keep rocking ;)
    Carol

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