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It’s the origin we were talking about not the definition. Your description is from the same Wikipedia page I posted the link to (you forgot to use quotes though). The origin is farther down on the same page.
We all know Benny and Shoobie are slurs used by locals, we are talking about where the names came from.
I heard it was that the train line ran Bayonne, Elizabeth, Newark and the acronym formed the basis for the term. Bensonhurst is in Brookyn, and I don't really see Brooklynites coming to New Jersey beaches when the Rockaways would have been a subway ride away.
I never actually heard the term until I was an adult, though, because I didn't live down here then.
We used to go to Conn during the summer. It was easy: Beachies and Townies We were both, since we'd go there on the weekends in the winter and vacations.
Ha, very interesting. So, basically, nobody really knows!
As I said, I never really heard the term growing up. When I was very young, I remember a week in Wildwood at a motel, and there is a picture of us as kids on the beach. The back of the picture says "Beach Haven". The photographer (probably my Dad) is standing with his back to the ocean. The only thing on the other side of the beach is a fence and some sand dunes. Early Sixties. I do vaguely remember a musty-smelling cabin of some sort associated with the beach.
The shore and the heat didn't work well for my father, who wore artificial legs with woolen "stump socks". When I was six, my parents bought a lot at a one of the new lake communities in the Poconos, and ever after, that was our vacation spot, not the beach. My mom took us to the shore maybe one day per summer, but just for the day.
Ha, very interesting. So, basically, nobody really knows!
As I said, I never really heard the term growing up. When I was very young, I remember a week in Wildwood at a motel, and there is a picture of us as kids on the beach. The back of the picture says "Beach Haven". The photographer (probably my Dad) is standing with his back to the ocean. The only thing on the other side of the beach is a fence and some sand dunes. Early Sixties. I do vaguely remember a musty-smelling cabin of some sort associated with the beach.
The shore and the heat didn't work well for my father, who wore artificial legs with woolen "stump socks". When I was six, my parents bought a lot at a one of the new lake communities in the Poconos, and ever after, that was our vacation spot, not the beach. My mom took us to the shore maybe one day per summer, but just for the day.
I'm amazed that your dad could be on sand. It can be tough with two legs at some beaches. Nothing on Long Beach Island is or was a flat walk to the ocean. There was always a dune in the way. My family started vacationing there in, I think, 1960. I remember the fencing with nothing behind it. There were empty lots in Surf City where we rented.
I'm glad that that your mom took you to the shore for the day.
Mom was an LPN who worked desk for a one man band. One patient was an amputee who had a lot of problems with his stump. She could get doc to see him on holidays. She'd guilt him into it. The guy had terrible insurance. He'd come to our house, remove his leg and sock, and mom would decide if he needed to go to the hospital or see doc the next day. I remember that he had to eventually stop wearing a leg. He had a lot of problems, but it was mostly about cash. Bummer. He was a really nice guy.
I'm amazed that your dad could be on sand. It can be tough with two legs at some beaches. Nothing on Long Beach Island is or was a flat walk to the ocean. There was always a dune in the way. My family started vacationing there in, I think, 1960. I remember the fencing with nothing behind it. There were empty lots in Surf City where we rented.
I'm glad that that your mom took you to the shore for the day.
Mom was an LPN who worked desk for a one man band. One patient was an amputee who had a lot of problems with his stump. She could get doc to see him on holidays. She'd guilt him into it. The guy had terrible insurance. He'd come to our house, remove his leg and sock, and mom would decide if he needed to go to the hospital or see doc the next day. I remember that he had to eventually stop wearing a leg. He had a lot of problems, but it was mostly about cash. Bummer. He was a really nice guy.
Yeah, the sand and the beaches didn't really work well for him, which is why we ended up in the Poconos.
Plus, Dad had been a Boy Scout and a scout leader before the war, and he loved the woods and nature. Also, the lake community at which my parents built a house had an indoor pool, so my dad could swim.
Yes, the stumps can have problems. My father had what was called a stump revision at 78. After 55 years, the bone had become infected to the point where it was best to remove a couple more inches of it. It was extremely painful, but he wanted it done because he had not been able to walk for a while and was stuck using the wheelchair. He got around pretty well and had this gizmo on top of his van that picked up and stored the wheelchair once he was in the driver's seat (he had hand controls for braking and acceleration in addition to the normal pedals), but he wanted to walk again.
He had the surgery in July that year, then in September he began physical therapy three times a week in anticipation of getting a new pair of legs in January. At the end of October he came home one day and said he'd had to stop physical therapy early that day because he didn't feel well and thought he might be coming down with the flu. Around 2 a.m., he went into the kitchen in his wheelchair to get some juice from the fridge, and my mother heard a loud thud and found him on the kitchen floor. 911 was called and he was able to communicate with them when they got there, but he died shortly after on the kitchen floor. It was a heart attack.
I will always admire my Dad's courage, his refusal to feel sorry for himself, and the fact that he died determined to walk again. That was in 1999. My father was an electrical engineer, and when I see people with the artificial legs available now, I always think how amazed and thrilled he would have been with today's technology in that area.
Yeah, the sand and the beaches didn't really work well for him, which is why we ended up in the Poconos.
Plus, Dad had been a Boy Scout and a scout leader before the war, and he loved the woods and nature. Also, the lake community at which my parents built a house had an indoor pool, so my dad could swim.
Yes, the stumps can have problems. My father had what was called a stump revision at 78. After 55 years, the bone had become infected to the point where it was best to remove a couple more inches of it. It was extremely painful, but he wanted it done because he had not been able to walk for a while and was stuck using the wheelchair. He got around pretty well and had this gizmo on top of his van that picked up and stored the wheelchair once he was in the driver's seat (he had hand controls for braking and acceleration in addition to the normal pedals), but he wanted to walk again.
He had the surgery in July that year, then in September he began physical therapy three times a week in anticipation of getting a new pair of legs in January. At the end of October he came home one day and said he'd had to stop physical therapy early that day because he didn't feel well and thought he might be coming down with the flu. Around 2 a.m., he went into the kitchen in his wheelchair to get some juice from the fridge, and my mother heard a loud thud and found him on the kitchen floor. 911 was called and he was able to communicate with them when they got there, but he died shortly after on the kitchen floor. It was a heart attack.
I will always admire my Dad's courage, his refusal to feel sorry for himself, and the fact that he died determined to walk again. That was in 1999. My father was an electrical engineer, and when I see people with the artificial legs available now, I always think how amazed and thrilled he would have been with today's technology in that area.
What a great example to his children.
My daughter had a job in Ocean City, NJ that involved loaning out specially designed wheel chairs for beach access. We have come a long way in recognizing the needs of people with limited mobility.
My daughter had a job in Ocean City, NJ that involved loaning out specially designed wheel chairs for beach access. We have come a long way in recognizing the needs of people with limited mobility.
Definitely! I've told the story before of my sister and I going with my father to shop for our mother's Christmas gifts when we were teenagers (he was color-blind and one year got her red plaid pants and an orange jacket. It was awful and hilarious, too.)
He drove around Paramus Park while we scouted for an open parking space close to the door, then when we saw one, we leaped out and ran over and stood in it, waving other cars away and not letting them in. People got mad, and we would yell back that our father had artificial legs and needed a spot near the door, and we wouldn't move out of the spot until he was able to come around with the car. ADA and Handicapped parking spots were still a few years away.
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