A Banana Barge
July 4, 2002
J. Glenn Eugster
Fontana Free Press
One day in 1958 the Stazweski Girls--Sophie and Stella, took Jay and Joe's kids--Claudie and Stash, for a ride. It was a hot night in July and a ride in the car was one of the surprises that always came with a trip to Elm Street--formerly called Mongaloosa Lane.
The girls told the kids they were going to Glen Cove for a "Banana Barge." The children from a beautiful but quite remote rural-outpost named Laurel were bright, but not altogether cosmopolitan at this point in their lives. Barges were boats and they thought they were going to the coast to see a boat used to transport bananas.
Riding in the back of Sophie's tri-brown-color-automatic-powerglide-1953 Chevy was always exciting and never predictable--Stash had fallen out of the back-seat of a moving car when he was younger and never trusted adults after that experience. Sophie was a tentative driver who took the wheel because Stella wouldn't. "You've got to be a little crazy to drive around here you know," said Stella, reflecting on those crazy-hazy-lazy-days of past summers.
The trip to Glen Cove was loaded with honks--the Stazweski girls were attractive and single, and many of the cars that weaved around the slow moving sisters didn't see the two country kids hunkered down in the back seat. "Guys would see us and they'd wave, honk and blow us kisses," recounted Sophie in her unpublished notebook. "They tried to get our attention until they saw the kids in the back," she said.
The group arrived at a small commercial store with a glass front and white walls. The parking lot in front of the store was bustling with activity. With a lurch, a jerk, and a couple of curse-words, the group deftly slid into a parking spot, cut the engine and Sophie headed for the counter with a sense of purpose. The country kids sat nervously wondering where the banana boat was and why we had stopped at this place called Carvel?
Sophie returned to the car with cylindrical containers, long red plastic spoons, and a fistful of napkins. "This one's for you," she said as she passed out the containers to everyone, cool to the touch, and heavy with the weight of whatever was in them. The country kids pried the tops of the containers off to find, vanilla ice cream, fruit, nuts, bananas, heavy sweet syrup, and who-knows what else in the mix. "Dah, what is this?” said Stash. "It's a banana barge, and it's delicious," replied Stella.
The evening was hot and the ice cream was so cold it made our temples hurt as we shoveled this amazing concoction down their excited little throats. As Claudie and Stash dug into the cylinder it seemed to go on forever. A banana barge--the name didn't make sense but once the lid came off it didn't matter, was a sweet, cold, smooth, creamy, crunchy, delicious mix of everything a kid could ever dream of on a hot night in July. Inside the container made the visit to Carvel seem like a trip to someplace cool and tropical at the same time.
With vanilla ice cream lines around their mouths, chocolate syrup drips on their shirts, crumpled napkins everywhere, the group headed back to Elm Street, with an image of Glen Cove--oh wonderful Glen Cove, etched in their minds forever.
July 4, 2002
J. Glenn Eugster
Fontana Free Press
One day in 1958 the Stazweski Girls--Sophie and Stella, took Jay and Joe's kids--Claudie and Stash, for a ride. It was a hot night in July and a ride in the car was one of the surprises that always came with a trip to Elm Street--formerly called Mongaloosa Lane.
The girls told the kids they were going to Glen Cove for a "Banana Barge." The children from a beautiful but quite remote rural-outpost named Laurel were bright, but not altogether cosmopolitan at this point in their lives. Barges were boats and they thought they were going to the coast to see a boat used to transport bananas.
Riding in the back of Sophie's tri-brown-color-automatic-powerglide-1953 Chevy was always exciting and never predictable--Stash had fallen out of the back-seat of a moving car when he was younger and never trusted adults after that experience. Sophie was a tentative driver who took the wheel because Stella wouldn't. "You've got to be a little crazy to drive around here you know," said Stella, reflecting on those crazy-hazy-lazy-days of past summers.
The trip to Glen Cove was loaded with honks--the Stazweski girls were attractive and single, and many of the cars that weaved around the slow moving sisters didn't see the two country kids hunkered down in the back seat. "Guys would see us and they'd wave, honk and blow us kisses," recounted Sophie in her unpublished notebook. "They tried to get our attention until they saw the kids in the back," she said.
The group arrived at a small commercial store with a glass front and white walls. The parking lot in front of the store was bustling with activity. With a lurch, a jerk, and a couple of curse-words, the group deftly slid into a parking spot, cut the engine and Sophie headed for the counter with a sense of purpose. The country kids sat nervously wondering where the banana boat was and why we had stopped at this place called Carvel?
Sophie returned to the car with cylindrical containers, long red plastic spoons, and a fistful of napkins. "This one's for you," she said as she passed out the containers to everyone, cool to the touch, and heavy with the weight of whatever was in them. The country kids pried the tops of the containers off to find, vanilla ice cream, fruit, nuts, bananas, heavy sweet syrup, and who-knows what else in the mix. "Dah, what is this?” said Stash. "It's a banana barge, and it's delicious," replied Stella.
The evening was hot and the ice cream was so cold it made our temples hurt as we shoveled this amazing concoction down their excited little throats. As Claudie and Stash dug into the cylinder it seemed to go on forever. A banana barge--the name didn't make sense but once the lid came off it didn't matter, was a sweet, cold, smooth, creamy, crunchy, delicious mix of everything a kid could ever dream of on a hot night in July. Inside the container made the visit to Carvel seem like a trip to someplace cool and tropical at the same time.
With vanilla ice cream lines around their mouths, chocolate syrup drips on their shirts, crumpled napkins everywhere, the group headed back to Elm Street, with an image of Glen Cove--oh wonderful Glen Cove, etched in their minds forever.
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