The Travels of Jerry Smith and Raggedy-Ann

And then she began to cry. And the women could hear her cries and they came over and took her away from the men and consoled her and cuddled her. And finally she was safe at last and she fell asleep.

Days passed; months passed and Jerry began to walk and talk, mumbling, mushing words. And almost every Sunday Ruby and Ralph took their little baby to the beach. It was a family outing, a family get-together, a time for fun and games. There was Aunt Nora and Uncle Bob, and Aunt Ruth and Uncle Harry; a really funny man; round and fat like Santa Claus. They all loved Uncle Harry and then there was Uncle Mark Zeboney, a big, strong Irish man and mother’s brother, Uncle Cliff Harrison and his wife with the flaming red hair; so red it could start a fire in a haystack. And Charlie and their kids, Roger and Steve and Aunt Martha and Uncle Carl. They all were a part of Sunday. And they all loved the beach, the warm sun, the blue water and golden sand. All were great swimmers. And they played volleyball, tossed the football and when they got sweaty they raced for the ocean; dove into the tall white caps and raced for the giant swells and mountainous waves.

And little Jerry inherited this same love for the ocean. She was always happiest near the water, or in the water: The sea and sand drew her like a magnet. The wild, tall waves did not intimidate her. They beckoned to her. The ocean’s sometimes cold temperatures meant nothing to her: She would go racing into the sea whether the water was a freezing fifty-five degrees, or a warm seventy-two; whether her into the sea whether the water was a freezing fifty-five degrees, or a warm seventy-two; whether her diaper was hanging to her knees, or waving like a flag off her tiny bottom. It didn’t bother her. It seemed as if her heart beat to the rhythm of the sea.

She learned to swim when she was two. Her father carried her out to where the water was deep. Holding her by her tummy, he told her to kick her feet and paddle with her hands. She laughed and the seawater almost choked her.

"Keep your mouth closed," he said, and he pursed his lips.

She laughed.

Then he gently let her down into the water. Her little legs began to kick, her hands paddled faster and faster and then her dad, released his hold on her and she paddled away. He stayed beside her. Watched her carefully. Finally she got tired and he scooped her up out of the ocean and held her in his arms. Her little face was dripping with water, her jet black hair lay pasted against her face and her dark eyes sparkled.

Her dad smiled. "Like it, honey?"