My Brother was a Rosebud

It was worth trying. My grandmother, Nana -- the most practical member of the family -- and her son, would be the first in the family to venture to Atlantic City. Then, with a little luck, the entire Burk family, except for Dad, would follow. Nana’s mission would be to find a small apartment just big enough to accommodate seven people. The main difficulty was the family’s meager budget. It would not allow for an expenditure of more than twenty dollars a month. And even in the summer of 1921, finding a decent apartment at that price was no easy assignment. But for a strong-willed person like my grandmother, the odds were in her favor.

So, while the rest of the family were merely discussing the dream, Nana and Charles set out from Philadelphia to carry out the seemingly impossible plan  -- a plan that was supposed to arrange things so the whole family might stay in Atlantic City for the summer. The first big challenge would be in getting there.

Even during the brief period that Charles owned it, the battered Ford coupe was the veteran of many breakdowns. Some of these would come without warning: The car would simply slow down and come to a gradual stop; or at other times, it would announce some internal problem with a loud clanking noise before making a bucking-bronco stop. But Charles said he loved the old Tin Lizzy, even if it showed its disrespect by occasionally shedding a wheel or two.   This wheel-shedding business wasn’t so much the fault of the car as it was the man who drove it; for Charles, a writer and amateur musician, was never sure which way to turn the wheel-nuts after struggling to change a tire.

Perhaps we should mention that in the early nineteen-twenties, most states did not bother with drivers’ tests. And although Charles impressed the neighbors by driving around neighborhood streets, his most daring trip thus far had been a brave journey from West Philadelphia to center city, once around City Hall, and then back again to home. Now, however, he faced the challenge of a 65-mile trip to the World’s Playground. And although that’s not much of a stretch by today’s standards, in a cranky car that first hit the bumpy roads in 1915, and was now loaded with bags, bottles and spare tires, it was a daring adventure.

All evening the six Burks remaining at home were unusually quiet, anxiously wondering how Charles and Nana were making out in their adventurous drive to Atlantic City. But the family finally came to life when a young boy knocked on the door. He must have run all the way from Kelly’s drug store, for he was breathing hard when he told my mother, “You have a phone call!”

Since there was only one pay-phone in the neighborhood, we all knew the call was at Kelly’s. Mother gave the boy the customary nickel and followed him to the store.