LIFESTYLENOSTALGIA I Was There...
There are not too many times in life when you can utter those words about something that made history, but this was one of those times.
By ROBIN STOLOFF
Outside Atlantic City’s first casino, Resorts International
IT WAS A PLEASANT DAY IN MAY 1978. I HOPPED INTO THE back seat of the car with my friend, excited the day ahead. My friend’s mom was at the wheel as we headed down the shore for an adventure. We were two giggling teens from the suburbs of Philadelphia, but even we sensed that there was something special was going on. This was the big time. We were going to Atlantic City for the opening of the first casino in the United States outside of Nevada. When we arrived, I was astounded at the number of people
waiting to get inside Resorts International. The line, which wrapped around several times, was packed with well-dressed, eager patrons ready to try their luck. The men were required to wear sports jackets and the entrance fee was five dollars. As my friend’s mom entered, we wished her luck and tried
to peak past her and the throngs of visitors to get a glimpse inside. If only I were a little older. How I wanted to go inside! But, just seeing it, just being around it was enough. I thought to myself, someday I will look back on this and say, “I was there.” Flash forward about eight years... little did I know that this
town would be my new home. It was my first job out of college, I was with the local NBC station and living in Ventnor, a block from the beach. I was finally old enough to get into the clubs and casinos. Somebody pinch me! I truly could not believe that I was living at the shore. I
could walk to the beach, I could jog on the boardwalk, I could splash in the ocean. This was the place I had looked forward to every summer. I had been coming to the Jersey shore since I was a baby and instead of the expression “sand in my shoes”, it would be more appropriate to say I had “sand in my baby booties”. My fondest memories are of that day each summer when
we would prepare for that two-hour journey to New Jersey. My dad would strategically load the station wagon with suitcases, beach chairs and beach toys. No matter how hard we tried, we always packed too much and left too late. My brother and sister and I would sit and the back and misbehave, as siblings are required to do on a trip. We also did our duty as children by asking the quintessential question every parent loves — “are we there yet?” — about fifteen minutes into the trip. That was a question, however, that you did not have to ask
when you finally travelled over the bridge and saw the sparkling, beautiful bay. The back-seat bickering stopped, the windows came down, and the ocean air filled the car with excitement. You could feel it from your toes to your head. “We’re almost there!” When our feet hit the sand, we could barely contain ourselves as we kicked off our sandals and raced toward the ocean, leaving mom and dad to lug arm- fuls of beach gear. Those were some of the best times of my
njlifestyleonline.com LIFESTYLE | Spring 2012 11
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