Just me and the chicken
Growing up in Gaston County in the early 1960s wasn’t easy because we were very poor. I was raised by my grandmother and grandfather. Somehow my grandmother would save up enough money to take us all to Myrtle Beach.
We would take everything we needed to eat. We’d pop a big bag of popcorn. My grandmother would fry a bunch of chicken. She would put a portion of the chicken in an old shoebox. We rode an old Trailways bus to Myrtle Beach. All of us couldn’t sit together. It was my job to look after the shoebox chicken resting on the seat beside me. The bus stopped in a little town in South Carolina, and a woman got on the bus. She asked me if anyone was sitting with me, and I said no, only me and the chicken. The woman looked at me kind of strange and moved to another seat.
The room we rented was across the street from the Gay Dolphin Park. The motel was called Shallow Cove. It was $6 a night, and it was the best trip I ever took.