Message in a Minute Collection

That’s her, sitting proudly, with a bit of sag and lean, across the harbor from our campground. The Queen Mary, grand ship of the mid 20th century, sporting 3 stacks and riding high in her berth. Paul and I were privileged to ride the queen over the Atlantic Ocean in August of 1964—a fabulous ending to a fabulous European honeymoon-the very fabric of dreams.

The ship was declassified in 1967 and moved to Long Beach, CA as a moneymaker and publicity stunt. It is now a hotel and restaurant, and is open to tours and available for conferences. Our son and daughter in law and two grandsons now live in Long Beach, so time did not permit our taking a tour, but we’d love to look once again at the great interior filled with mahogany woodwork, mirrored lobbies, art deco appointments and broad decks once again to check how accurate our memories are 40 years later.

I remember riding the train from Paris to the docks of Cherbourg to board the great ship. We actually had a bonus day in Paris, thinking we were to leave one day earlier. When we realized our mistake, we took off for more sightseeing in Gay Paree and sat once more around the Round Pond watching children sail their boats and feed the pigeons.

I remember walking up and down the staircase (that encircled the elevator shaft) in rolling seas. Sometimes the stairs were level as the ship pitched in the high waves. The Atlantic is not a forgiving sea and the week was stormy.

I remember our daily walks on the main deck, fighting hard against the tremendous winds and the elderly Englishman, walking with his cane and cap, gasping at the power of the wind as he tried to navigate around the bow of the ship.

I remember taking meals, very British in nature in the vast dining room often shared with a couple that were also on their honeymoon and having been married on the same day in June. Just as I had done, the woman just graduated with a BS degree in Speech and Hearing Therapy and minored in drama. They were going to live in Manhattan as well, but we have unfortunately lost touch.

I remember having to dress up, long dresess and gloves, shirts and tie for dinners aboard ship and a formal dinner “with the captain.” We had a suitcase filled with clothing specially meant for aboard ship sent to ourselves in Paris. What an adventure going to the custom house to find and claim the item and take it back to the hotel.

I remember listening to live jazz in the dining room after dinner as the ship tossed and turned. Our chairs slid, drinks on the table slid and spilled, and the band finally gave up and left the stage.

I remember sitting in the bar and posing for the ship’s photographer. We picked up our black and white photo the next day tacked to a large board with all of the portraits he had sold the night before. The photo sits in our scrapbook, a bit yellowed, but in tact.

I remember feeling very green for much of the trip and constantly going above deck to try to combat the nausea. Paul was just fine however, and sought out the pool deck to take a swim. He tells about finding the lifeguard as green as his new wife, clinging to the side of the pool area. Paul never gives up--he found a shower to chase and a steward to fix him a sandwich. It remains today that I turn green in rough seas and his stomach is made of steel.

I remember arriving in New York City and passing under the Statue of Liberty on a sunny and lovely day, disembarking and being met at the dock by my brother Arthur and sister in law Natalie.

Yes, there she is sitting alongside the wharf, sharing the limelight with a submarine and other Long Beach attractions. We have been told that her interior is a bit shabby and that perhaps we should think twice about a nostalgic tour. Perhaps we should just take out our old slides and scrapbook fillers and be satisfied with that. We did hear a rumor that the Queen will undergo a face lift in the near future. Perhaps that is the perfect time to walk on her decks once more and be so thankful for the riches of the last 40 years. Live and be well.