When I was about 7 years old my father drove the family from Brooklyn to Miami Beach via Route 1 on a rare vacation. In those days the Interstate Highway System was just beginning, so my father had to drive approximately 1,300 miles each way (2,600 miles round trip) in our black Chevy Bel Air with traffic lights and stop signs along the entire route. I have no idea how Dad safely completed that long drive with our mother nagging him the entire way, plus two restless boys in the back seat, who often fought with each other.

We somehow made it to Florida where we spent several days at a local Miami Beach Motel with a swimming pool surrounded by beautiful Palm Trees. Compared to the Asphalt Jungle of Brooklyn, we thought our Motel was in the middle of Paradise. We of course had the time of our lives.