The First Time I Took Acid
I was about fourteen and still in eighth grade in Ocean City, NJ, the first time I took acid. What started with a small gold-star tab became a summer of LSD, strange nights, and experiences I still remember decades later.
I was about fourteen and still in eighth grade in Ocean City, NJ, the first time I took acid. What started with a small gold-star tab became a summer of LSD, strange nights, and experiences I still remember decades later.
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.
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.