Kate Smith, Where are You?
By Jane Kashlak
Cape May, NJ - If you didn't look at the calendar Saturday evening, you would have sworn it was June. Cars jammed the Sunset Beach parking lot, lining up for a good view of the sunset.
Out on the beach, people set up lawn chairs or strolled and snapped photos.
After days of snow and cold weather, the unseasonable sixties seemed like summer. Everyone had the same idea - let's do a sunset. And where do you go for sunsets?
So we all sat or stood and waited for the magnificent sunset to fade across the sky, turning even the water pink. As sunsets go, this was a real winner.
But something was missing.
For some reason, it just didn't feel like a real Cape May sunset. People waited politely, not sure when to leave. We were missing our cue.
Kate Smith. We were missing Kate Smith.
That tinny, crackling, who knows how old recording of God Bless America, pumped out over the ancient loudspeakers every evening at sunset in the summer, was still packed away somewhere.
In the summer, when Kate Smith's recording ends, the flag has been lowered, the sun has set and it's time to leave.
But without Kate, we all stood around, waiting.
Hurry back. Kate. We need you.