I moved to Ocean City when I was twelve and spent nearly forty years living on the island. These aren’t official histories, and I’m certainly not an historian. They’re memories of the Ocean City I knew—the restaurants, businesses, characters, summer crowds, empty winters, friendships, jobs, and stories that made a tourist town a hometown.
I remember when pieces of the Sindia shipwreck were still visible from the Ocean City beach. More than a century after the ship ran aground, its remains are now buried beneath the sand—but the stories, legends and memories surrounding it remain.
September 11 Ocean City NJ is a memory I will never forget—not only because of what happened that morning, but because of exactly where I was when the world changed. For me, September 11, 2001 began with the surf. The waves in Ocean City were enormous that morning. I remember faces approaching ten feet on…
Ocean City isn’t only a summer town. One snowy winter, we grabbed the kids’ bodyboards and headed for the boardwalk—not to ride waves, but to turn a snow-covered boardwalk ramp into our neighborhood sledding hill.
I was standing in the alley behind Voltaco’s when I watched a stranger drive away in Joe’s truck, staring directly at me. Seconds later, Joe came running out and told me a man had put a shotgun in his face. One ordinary closing night in Ocean City had suddenly become a story I’d never forget.
Growing up in Ocean City, New Jersey meant living in a true year-round beach town. This isn’t a story about disliking the shore—it’s about remembering the community that raised me and reflecting on how every hometown changes with time.
