I turned 60 a couple of weeks ago and the older I get - the more I think. When I met my wife in 1976 I was living in New London Connecticut (where we still live). I was born only about 15 miles north in the city of Norwich, Connecticut. I lived with my parents until I was 30, then moved to New London. I found out much later that my grandfather lived in New London when he first came to this country. So that was one piece of the puzzle and I knew what was drawing me to New London.
Around the same time I visited Provincetown for a couple of weekend stays and of course it was "love at first visit." My wife is from Long Island - bright lights, busy highways, etc. How was this 'ol country boy going to compete with that? I told her about this little place I knew of and would take her there one day. Our first trip together to Provincetown was in 1977. I had taken the wrong road and was on Route 6 instead of Commercial St. We ended up at the Point and I swore to her when I was there years before there was a great town right on the water - there must have been some catastrophic happening for all that to disappear. It was very late at night so we turned around to look for a place to stay. It was summer time and all the places were full. We finally found a place on 6A with little cabins big enough to sleep and shower. I had eaten a quart of fried clams during the day in Plymouth and we were both beat from the "just a few mile" trip (I promised) from Plymouth to P-Town. We just started to relax in the bed when we realized it was about six feet from the road and the tractor trailers were driving by all night with deliveries for the Town. It was right then that the old wooden slats fell out of the bottom of the bed and down to the floor we went. Still on the mattress - but in a shock. Not a very nice night. But the next day we did manage to find that little town. I think we stayed two nights. The next year we stayed three nights. Then four nights. Then we graduated to renting a condo from someone for a week. We did that a few years and finally bought our own time share in 1988. We've been there every year since 1976 missing only one when health problems prevented us from going.
I know there are probably a lot more people who have been there a lot more often over a lot more years - but something makes me go back every year. About twenty years ago - I found out why. I found yet another piece to my puzzle. I've attached a photo of my dad who visited Provincetown in 1930. He was 25 at the time. It's not hard to figure out where he's standing. He passed away twenty years ago this February. It might be that me finding your site is yet another piece of my puzzle. Finding it made me think of him in that old photo and made me write all this. Each year when we go back - I think I should take a photo of myself standing in the same spot - but then I decide to not do that. Maybe I'll find that piece of the puzzle one day and know why.
-- Fran DiCarlo, January 26, 2005
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... I found yet another piece to my puzzle. I've attached a photo of my dad who visited Provincetown in 1930. He was 25 at the time. It's not hard to figure out where he's standing.