Oh, I was there in 1959, and I recall two regular activities quite distinctly. My dad would park his car in front of a big old barn with us kids in the back seat, go in, and return with a case of 4 gallon jugs of red wine. Also, we’d go out to the coast, make our way down the cliffs to a small beach where my dad and his friends would dive for abalone, submerging with a gunny sack and a tire iron to pry those giant snails off the rocks. Now there’s a meal worthy of a post on Casemates!
Oh, I was there in 1959, and I recall two regular activities quite distinctly. My dad would park his car in front of a big old barn with us kids in the back seat, go in, and return with a case of 4 gallon jugs of red wine. Also, we’d go out to the coast, make our way down the cliffs to a small beach where my dad and his friends would dive for abalone, submerging with a gunny sack and a tire iron to pry those giant snails off the rocks. Now there’s a meal worthy of a post on Casemates!