Sand In My Shoes

‘Sand in my shoes’ was an expression generated back in the work-scarce days of the nineteen thirties implying an excessive amount of foot-travel to get away from the unemployment areas. It was how a lot of folks felt when unable to secure employment and who were thus forced to move on to other parts of the country looking for that elusive, ideal job; or any job that would put a roof over their heads and food on the table. Moving on was done mostly without the benefit of a vehicle, the primary mode of transportation being your two legs and feet, spawning another term, ‘Shoe leather express.’ Where today we see a family of four with a like number of automobiles parked in the driveway, back then most homes had no cars in that parking area and the bread winners walked to work and all walked to stores, churches, schools, parks, picnic areas and other places where communities gather.

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I thought about those days when Hampton Beach, NH was host to the first ever Master Sandsculptors’ Competition where magnificent sand sculpted structures were hand molded on our very own beach. As I walked among the many fine productions I did indeed get sand in my shoes, but in contrast to the nineteen thirties version, I did in no way want to get away from these things of beauty. In some ways I guess that these sand sculptures were probably born in days of less affluence when a trip to the beach was a treat that seldom occurred. And when it did, filling a small pail with moist beach sand over and over again and stacking those conical sand bricks until some identifiable shape could be determined was more than likely the way most of our master sand sculptors got their starts in this fascinating manner of ‘employment.’ These edifices that were born of skilled hands were infinite levels more difficult and exacting than the puny and sometimes unrecognizable shapes I tried to manufacture whenever I was lucky enough to get to go to a beach. As you might suspect, we didn’t have very many of them in the mountainous areas of central Pennsylvania where I spent my early years. Some lakes had tiny sandy beaches but nothing compared to Atlantic City the place where I first saw a beach on an ocean and first tried my woefully inadequate hand at sand castle building. I was fortunate enough this time to be present when the ‘workable’ construction grade sand was delivered to our beach; two hundred tons of it spread over an area of several hundred square feet to be pulled together, moistened, tamped, shaped, molded and sculpted into astonishingly beautiful exhibits. I watched with amazement and keen interest as the dozen or so master sandsculptors from places as far away as South Padre Island, Texas, Treasure Island, Florida and other sites near and far, as well as several from Ontario and Quebec, Canada, honed their masterpieces from the waiting sand. To be there to see these extremely talented people mold and almost breathe life into animals and human figures with the care and patience of master surgeons was awesome. The peripheral and attendant articles such as discarded oil barrels, used auto tires, simulated broken parts of destroyed buildings sculpted in support of their main attraction, while smaller and sometimes nearly unnoticed, were of equal significance to their overall theme. From the overall first prize display of two carpenters building what appeared to be an old bridge support piling from the early days when such items were constructed from huge and heavy oak beams, to a not too attractive nor svelte bathing beauty sprawled on the sand and eating a drumstick from a nearby turkey on a platter, the beauty was definitely in the eye of the beholder. I overheard one woman spectator opine as she looked at the “Princess”, the name given to the aforementioned bathing beauty, “She’s so ugly she’s beautiful!” The winner of the second prize, which also was the unanimous choice of the Sculptor’s Award, from all of the sculptors present was called, “Our Mother Cries.” It depicted the sculptor’s vision of Mother Earth standing holding our planet in her hands in tearful sorrow at the damage that its people have done to the environment with carelessly discarded items abandoned and allowed to rust and foul the earth which she, Mother Earth, so dearly loves. Third prize and the winner of the People’s Choice Award from viewers voting was the “Frog Kingdom” a happy and whimsical presentation of some very happy frogs going about their daily chores in their own little universe. It was a thoroughly wonderful event that made ‘Happy Hampton’ even happier for residents and visitors alike. I can’t wait for next year when hopefully the event will be bigger and better and we’ll get to enjoy these accomplished artisans and their wondrous works of art again. Seeing them is a rare treat; but helping to organize the event was really the ultimate thrill for me.

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