In 1960, a little over 50 years ago, the year Sandy was born, I spent the summer in Erie, Pennsylvania, with my mother’s parents, Honey and Gramps. They owned and operated a hotel on Lake Erie at the time and they lived in a cottage on a bluff above the beach in a little neighborhood surrounding an oval park.
We visited there this morning and I’m pretty sure that one of these cottages was my grandparents’ cottage.
There was a road that ran along side the bluff, down to the lake. I remember a big wooden staircase that I used to walk down to get to the hotel. The staircase is long gone, but this looks like the place it used to be.