![]() We laughed until we cried for years about that. One time, my directionally challenged Dad made a wrong turn and we found ourselves on the tarmac of Atlantic City airport. I’ve never eaten more delicious sandwiches than those. ![]() We’d depart at 7AM - just after breakfast - and as soon as we crossed the Walt Whitman bridge, my 3 sisters and I would start crying “we’re hungry” and we’d munch on sandwiches all the way down the Blackhorse Pike. My mom would pack a cooler with pepper and egg and lunchmeat sandwiches. ![]() Our version of summer vacation was 3 or 4 day-trips to Atlantic City spread across the summer. When I was young and growing up in West Philadelphia in the 60′s, my parents had no money for vacations and very little vacation time anyway.
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