A1A, The Road To Burma Shave

Long ago we took great vacations. Simple trips not ruined by inflation. This might be a column to save especially if you remember A1A and Burma-Shave.

Despite the high price of gasoline the summer vacation lives on. A lot of families will vacation at the beach this summer. Over here, across the Savannah, that usually means a trip to Myrtle Beach, Pawley’s Island, Charleston, or Edisto. When I was a boy, it meant a trip to Florida. I recall Silver Springs, Daytona, and much later tours of Cape Canaveral and days at a house near the sea in Ormond Beach.

It took a few calls to my Mom to resurrect some memories of our long-ago family vacations in the Sunshine State. In today’s era of high-speed interstates and clogs of cars everywhere, trips back then were simpler and a big part of the vacation itself.

Interstates didn’t exist quite yet. We traveled a lovely seaside lane, a highway with an alphanumeric yet poetic name, A1A.

Known also as the Indian River Lagoon Highway what a magical route this coastal highway was. It’s been said no stretch of highway reaches further into America’s history than A1A. It reaches back into my memory as well. Back in the 1950s we traveled that highway. Near Amelia Island state road A1A was waiting.

Along its route we encountered odd little red-and-white road signs, America’s oldest city, St. Augustine and its old fort, an alligator farm, and more. The main thing we kids longed for, of course, was the ocean. When you grow up landlocked every time you gaze out on the sea it’s as if it’s the first time you see it. Nothing beats the sight of the sprawling Atlantic Ocean. “Are we there yet” excitement consumed us.

Henry The Eighth, Sure Had Trouble, Short-Term Wives Long-Term Stubble, Burma-Shave

What we didn’t know or couldn’t know back then was that we were trendsetters. My family took part in the early years of vacationing when it was not yet a full-blown tradition. It was building momentum though. The American tradition of taking a summer vacation would begin not long after World War II ended.

Three things combined to sear the summer vacation into American’s consciousness. Servicemen returning from the war began to marry and new couples would have babies that would be called babyboomers. Post-war prosperity gave families a few extra coins to spend. Some of that money went into shiny new cars. Soon, a blossoming romance with the automobile gave people a way to make road trips. After too many years of doing without so much thanks to shortages resulting from the Depression and World War II, families thronged to Atlantic beaches in the late 1940s and early 1950s.

The summer vacation fulfilled families’ dreams and ascended to iconic status. Cheaper than water gas was a dream too although no one realized it. We joined the throngs heading south.

Dad drove us to Florida in a 1955 chrome-trimmed aqua-white Plymouth Belvedere. The car had no air conditioning and we would leave in predawn darkness to avoid as much heat as we could. As the day heated up we drove down old tarry roads. Traveling through tar puddles sounded like duct tape being ripped up. Segmented highways gave the sound of a travel a rhythm akin to riding the rails.

With great excitement we’d spot a dead armadillo in the road, a sure sign we were in Florida. Mom recalls seeing turpentine cups affixed to big pines in northern Florida too.

Generally we headed to St. Augustine, Ormond Beach, and Daytona. Sunny beaches and cresting waves waited at the end of the trip. Along the way the trip itself built memories of two icons: A1A, Florida’s beautiful seaside highway and those odd little rhyming road signs promoting brushless shaving cream, Burma-Shave. Spaced apart, everyone read them to see what the punchline would be.

Does Your Husband Misbehave, Grunt And Grumble, Rant And Rave, Shoot The Brute Some Burma-Shave.

A1A was like no other highway I’d seen. It is the seashore’s version of the Blue Ridge Parkway. A1A flirted with the Atlantic winding through lush tropical vegetation and serving up beautiful ocean vistas.

She Put A Bullet Through His Hat, But He’s Had Closer Shaves Than That, With Burma-Shave

A deep history runs along A1A, all of which escaped me as a beach-bound boy. During the Civil War Confederates used beach areas there as a salt works. The Southern boys extracted salt from seawater. With that salt they cured beef jerky from cattle raised in Florida and shipped the jerky north to feed Confederate troops.

The only salt that concerned us was twofold: the Morton Salt on the tomato sandwiches Mom had packed and the salt that would cling to our skin after long swims in the Atlantic Ocean. Fast food joints had yet to blight the land everywhere you look and we packed our own picnic-style lunches. Mom would fry chicken and bake a ham for the journey. We took watermelons too. We ate like kings.

We often stopped at a park in Swainsboro as we worked our way south. Elsewhere, we’d look for a good place to pull over and home-cooked food took care of any need we might have had for a McDonald’s, Wendy’s, or Bojangles’ had they existed. It was better eating and better for us. Progress isn’t always progress is it. We looked with great excitement to the fresh seafood we’d get in Florida.

The Monkey Took One Look At Jim, And Threw The Peanuts, Back At Him, He Needed Burma-Shave

We’d stay in little concrete block motels with crank-out windows. Utilitarian with no frills they served their purpose: provide a place to sleep. Perhaps they served others another purpose with the windows cracked tightly shut.

Dinah Doesn’t Treat Him Right, But If He’d Shave, Dyna-Mite! Burma-Shave

Come morning we set out exploring. We toured the old Spanish fort in St. Augustine, a place that impressed me with its star-shaped layout and stout walls. The fort, built from coquina, small seashells naturally bonded together, was soft but durable. Absorbing the impact from cannonballs, the coquina spared the fort’s walls damage. That old fort has gone by various names over the centuries but it’s known today as Castillo de San Marcos National Monument. I loved walking in its large square and checking out its garrisons.

Between St. Augustine and Ormond Beach sat an iconic place called Marineland. It was a big part of the trip, almost as big as playing in the waves. Going to breakfast at Marineland’s Dolphin Restaurant was memorable. Outside stood a large three-dimensional dolphin. Inside glasses of fresh-squeezed orange juice stood on crisp, white linen tablecloths. After breakfast we’d watch porpoises do tricks much as they do in SeaWorld. Florida has long been a ballyhooed land of celebrity dolphins, celebrities who feast on hand-held mullet. What a life.

Another great stop along A1A was the Alligator Farm. The St. Augustine Alligator Farm Zoological Park began in the late nineteenth century as a small exhibition of Florida reptiles and became a quintessential Florida attraction. You had to see it! Ostriches, crocodiles, Galapagos tortoises, monkeys and birds, and many examples of Florida’s native wildlife were there. As we watched men rope and wrestle big gators Mom went into its gift shop and looked over pottery the Cash family hand painted.

If the journey was part of our destination then the red-and-white Burma-Shave signs we saw circa 1955 surely made the trip more entertaining.

The Big Blue Tube’s, Just Like Louise, You Get A Thrill, From Every Squeeze, Burma-Shave

These signs with their offbeat humor were as much a part of the trip as stopping for gas. Not long after we made our Florida trips in the late 1950s change began to work against the quaint little signs. Faster cars rolling down superhighways gave us the monstrous unsightly billboards we’re cursed with today.

1963 marked the last year new Burma-Shave signs blessed roadsides with wit and wisdom. Things changed in other ways too. In researching A1A and Marineland I found a website where people who had gone to Marineland as children returned hoping to recapture their youth. They didn’t. Instead they experienced major disappointment.

Said one, “If you were here in the past and enjoyed it, this is not the same place. Why it’s here now is a mystery. Nothing is here. I took my family and it was miserable. You can either pay a lot of money to watch one (!) tank of people swimming with a dolphin, or pay way too much to be one of those people. That’s all. Everything else is gone.

Said another, “If you visit Marineland today and expect to relive past visits, forget it! The motel, Dolphin Restaurant, ticket office, circular oceanarium, rectangular oceanarium, porpoise stadium and Whitney Park, have been demolished by the owner who assured northeast Florida residents that he would preserve the ‘world’s original marine attraction.’

“Today all you get is a high-priced opportunity to experience a swim with a porpoise and outrageously priced photos of your visit. My recommendation: enjoy what little of the ocean you’ll see along AlA at Matanzas Inlet skipping Marineland altogether.”

Another person said one can easily see the park’s former glory. “The pathways are cracked, the tanks are rusted, and there are more weeds than flowers.” I suppose I-95, that Yankee Flyway, and nearby Orlando killed the Marineland I remember, but in my mind the old park lives on. It’s on A1A. Just follow the Burma-Shave signs.

We made good family trips back then. We saw new sights and built great memories. We ate well. We didn’t rush in and out of fast-food joints. We didn’t buzz through drive-thru windows. We picnicked at roadside parks.

Back then we traveled. There’s a huge difference between driving and traveling. People today drive along interstates from Point A to Point B. In Dad’s two-tone Plymouth we traveled. I don’t recall that Dad drove fast but Burma-Shave had a sign for those who did.

Slow Down, Pa, Sakes Alive, Ma Missed Signs Four And Five, Burma-Shave

Of course Burma-Shave signs blessed many other highways with their amusing presence but for me and my family A1A was the road to Burma-Shave and great memories. What I wouldn’t give to travel it one more time like we did in the old days.

6 thoughts on “A1A, The Road To Burma Shave

  1. Oh Tom! This time you brought the tears. Your story could have been my young life when our parents offered their time and love instead of cell phones and I-pads. Both of my parents are gone and have been since 1988 when my Mother died. This sure brought them back and all the memories that goes with that.
    We would get on A1A in Jacksonville and follow it to Daytona Beach and cut across to Silver Springs. I remember one year we rented a house near the beach in Jacksonville with another family that were friends of my parents. The strange thing looking back was we were from Savannah and spent a lot of time at Tybee beach but the beaches in Florida seemed to more fun. In full discloser here we did move to Chattanooga when I was about 9 and most of those trips to Florida were after that. The Burma Shave signs were in Ga. also as you know and all those two-lane roads from Chattanooga to Savannah had their fair share. The only thing that was a little different from your family trip is my Mother thought fried chicken and pimento-cheese sandwich were made to be eaten together. Ha!

  2. To Tom and to the previous poster, Charlie Smith:

    You have both helped bring back some of my happiest memories. My parents, sister, and I traveled every summer from 1958 through 1969 from Conklin, NY to Daytona Beach for an all too brief vacation. And , yes, my father drove a Plymouth, and my mother fried a chicken to take with us. We once made a side trip to Marineland and once to Silver Springs, also. I have often wondered what happened to Marineland; I should have surmised. But the wonderful artifacts of childhood memories are still with me.

    I remember my mother being delighted whenever we occasionally came across the Burma Shave signs, just as you mentioned. I also now recollect the concrete block motel rooms that you describe, but I had long forgotten until reading your piece.

    I now live in the Florida panhandle, approximately 360 miles from St Augustine. But It just so happens I was in St Augustine yesterday and drove on A1A for a short while. This was the first time I have been in St Augustine in several years. I tried to explain to my wife that my dad had driven the family on this very same stretch of road back when he was much younger than I am today. But I do not think I succeeded in properly communicating to her the amount of nostalgia that memory evoked.

    I seem to recall we traveled down Route 1 from Jacksonville, changing to A1A in St Augustine and then crossing the St John’s River via a draw bridge, perhaps the Lions Bridge located near the fort. But we all know how childhood memories are. I will have to research the route a little more to be sure.

    Those were indeed special times for young families. My father, mother, and sister have all passed on. There is no one I knew who understood what those trips to Daytona were like. So, it does me good to realize others like yourselves experienced the same adventure. Impossible to adequately explain to someone who did not experience it. Thanks again for a wonderfully written piece (Tom) – and a great response (Charlie).
    Charles Cottrell
    Niceville, Florida

    • Tom just from my small contributition that helped bring back good memories for the days of a slower life for someone I get a little of the reason you enjoy useing nostalgia as a subject in many of your pieces. Thankyou for including my post in this comment from one of your readers.  Did you respond to his comments? Are there many times you receive a comment this length of time after you post the articles? charlie

      From: “Tom Poland, A Southern Writer” >To: chasnlex@yahoo.com >Sent: Sunday, February 24, 2013 7:38 PM >Subject: [New comment] A1A, The Road To Burma Shave > >Charles Cottrell commented: “To Tom and to the previous poster, Charlie Smith: You have both helped bring back some of my happiest memories. My parents, sister, and I traveled every summer from 1958 through 1969 from Conklin, NY to Daytona Beach for an all too brief vacation. An”

  3. Tom, this evoked a funny childhood memory — my father, mother, brother, sister and I took many, many road trips throughout my growing-up years. Our car(s) resounded with music, singing, games, occasional complaints (especially if our need for a rest-stop resulted in our getting behind a funeral procession), and we always got a kick out of Burma-shave signs. Once, when our pastor and his family returned from a road trip, his daughter and I (about 6 years old) were asked to recite in front of the congregation a Bible verse we had learned in Vacation Bible School. Annie proudly stood up and recited: “If she don’t kiss you like she uster, maybe she’s found a smoother rooster … Burma-shave”!!! Imagine the laughter of the congregation and the chagrin of her parents. Thanks for helping me remember those precious times with my own family as we traveled the roads of America.
    Cheryl Oliver

    • Tom, great to hear from you! I had one of those strange days yesterday that is a part of southern culture. A family reunion. My job is to make sure all is well with the church social hall we use which is on Ga 15 east of Wrightsville. When I arrived early yesterday morning 2 of the church ladies were there cleaning up which should have already been taken care of but had not and they were flying around like bees. I use that term because old time brown honey bees had built a nest in the wall and were busy doing their thing. The ladies called a man that has some hives to come to see what could be done. He decided to kill them because they were down in a block wall and could not be retrived. I left to get some ice for drinks and to get the food (bbq & brunswick stew) that was my contribution to the food. When I returned many people had arrived and I was met by one of my first cousins and was told we had lost another first cousin that morning. Needless to say I was already into the valium to be able to get through the day since this was one my wifes favorite days and now we have lost a another fmily member. Think goodness for valium!!!. Our day ended up well and my step=son was able to attend and came to the house after all had left and headed back to their homes. Family reunions are great and have been part of the south for many decades. I know of 7 decades from my participation.

      This comment on the Burma Shave signs was one of the funniest I have read.

      charlie smith

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