Guy
Boutin's Motorcycle Touring and Travel Pages
Adventures in Sport
Touring with the Honda ST 1100, 1300 and the BMW 1200RT
Exploring North America...One Road
at a Time
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Guy
Boutin's Motorcycle Touring and Travel Pages
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Three years after completing this ride to my childhood home, I felt compelled to rewrite the introduction. The first was somehow inadequate. I come here often to read how my return to Norfolk made me feel, and to review the pictures of the places that mean so much to me. Why, I don't really know, perhaps to reminisce about the great times I had in the home above, where I lived the first 11 years of my life. My childhood was a good one in the quiet neighborhood of Estabrook. My family was loving and close, and I was sheltered from the turmoil that seemed so prevalent elsewhere in the 1960s. I recall playing ball on nearby sandlots, and soldier in the woods down the street. We watched TV on a small black and white set that received 3 channels. All a guy could get back then was ABC, CBS, and NBC, and they went off the air each night at 12am. The son of blue collar workers, ( dad worked construction, mother part time waitress) our lives were mostly void of luxuries, but we didn't know it. My brother, sister and I, never thought much about eating out. That was something you saw in the movies or people did on TV. We ate our family meals each night around the table, and when we finished we adjourned to the den to watch one of the 3 channels on the RCA that was piloted by rabbit ears. We went to Mass every Sunday, and like the song, it was the only day my father didn't work. The rare occasion we did eat out, it was fast food, and we talked about it for weeks after. Friday nights were the highlight of my week, because my dad popped popcorn, and the weekly allotment of Coca Cola was given out. In remembrance of those days, I keep a small fridge in my study, fully stocked with Mountain Dews, Cokes etc. I can pull one out anytime I want, and when I do, I thoughtfully think back to those Friday nights in Virginia. Currently, I am at the absolute pinnacle of my life; secure, free, and enjoying the successes I worked hard to attain, making the years in Norfolk all the more poignant. Funny, after the vast expanses of time, along with all the things I have accomplished, the fact I can have a Coke ANYTIME I want, is one of the things I am most proud of. My school was 2 miles away, and I remember riding the bus each morning and afternoon, looking forward to getting back home and playing outside till my sister called us in for supper. Looking back on my time in Norfolk, I realize how lucky I was. We didn't have a lot of extras, but that was ok. We had each other. My dad was up and gone to the construction site before I was even out of bed for school. The man never missed a days work. I don't ever recall him being sick. I'm sure he went to work many days ill, but since he wasn't paid for sick days, he reported in. Missing a days pay was something that just couldn't happen. It took many years before the impressions of Norfolk fully absorbed, and how those 11 years forged and influenced my life, and into the way I raised my son. I wanted Chris to have the kind of childhood I had, to be surrounded by those YOU know love you so much. To teach the values and work ethic you will need to succeed. My parents didn't sit us down and talk about what we needed to do, instead they lived it. I recall my mother putting on her waitress uniform on Friday evenings, to go work her part time job, turning us over to my dad, (she worked Friday and Saturday nights) who would entertain us till we fell asleep on the couch. Miraculously, I awoke Saturday mornings in the bed next to my brother's, (we shared a room) my father had faithfully removed me from the sofa, and brought me to bed. I tried my hardest to stay awake to see my mother, but had little luck. When I walked the quiet streets of my old neighborhood 3 years ago, I thought about how back then all the people I loved were still alive. My dad, grandparents, and all my aunts and uncles. Many of them are gone now, and I miss them. Presently, I am 49 and retired, my time is my own, but I still think about those days, and how rich and full of life they were. That is why I often come to this journal to read about my visit. My 80+ year old mother is still alive but in declining health, and I don't know how much longer she will be here, making these memories all the more important. I thought about her while I was in Norfolk. My family left Norfolk in 1966, and moved to Alabama for reasons I never fully understood. I was scared to death, because I was leaving everything I'd ever known. I'm sure the fact my mother was from here, greatly motivated the decision. I do know our standard of living improved greatly the day we arrived. The cost of living was much lower here, and my dad took a job in Atlanta making union wages. Add those 2 things together, and we suddenly had a new brick home, in one of Prattville's finer neighborhoods. We ate out like they did on TV (speaking of which we upgraded to a fancy color unit) I went roller skating on the weekends, and I had money to go the store and get a coke. I appreciated all those things to no end. After we moved to Alabama, my dad spent 4 days a week in Atlanta working. I missed him greatly the next few years. My mother bought a cafe, and times were good for the Boutins. While she worked, my sister became the charge nurse in the evenings. Despite having material things, and money in my pocket, I missed the days we had in Norfolk. It took almost 2 years to adjust to the cultural shock of leaving a lower middle class neighborhood to a shiny upscale new environment, complete with manicured lawns, brick homes, and 2 cars in the driveway. I returned to Norfolk about every 10 years after we moved. Mostly visiting a few remaing family members, who did not follow us back to Alabama. This was my first solo trip, and as a result I was able to reconnect with my old neighborhood. I am at a stage in my life where I see things in perspective, and how the quilt of life is made up of many threads. Every child should have the quiet, unassuming childhood I had. I was also in Norfolk in 2004, but that trip did not have the same impact this one did. This tour was a little less about the riding and more about the experience. It also had a distinct historical theme to it. I visited Washington DC, the Gettysburg battlefield, Appomattox, and the home Stonewall Jackson died in. It was great riding. I closed the tour out with a long ride home from Virginia on the last day. Now its time to take a ride with a prodigal long rider returning to the roots of his life. Find out why this tour was so emotional, and follow along as I ride through some great country. Guy
Day 1- Riding across Georgia to South Carolina Day 2- Visiting my old neighborhood Day 3- Across the Chesapeake Bay to the Eastern Shore and Maryland Day 4- Finding a great road in Pennsylvania, and spending the night at the NFA Day 5- The Gettysburg Battlefield, the ride to Washington DC Day 7- Appomattox Courthouse and a long ride back to Alabama Day 8- A short ride home from Gadsden
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