The year was 1983, my thoughts were short, my hair was short. It was baby Mama Burgher’s first trip to Kennywood, a 3 month old babe with her parents, grandparents, and aunts and uncles. My Grandpap P’s Union Railroad picnic became an annual tradition for baby Mama Burgher during the years she grew up in the Burgh. Although those first years primarily consisted of train rides and the carousel, they were memorable.
As I grew, my ventures expanded to the baby swings and cars. Oh how I loved going to see the garbage eating lion in KiddyLand! Days that were too hot for my little self, I would veg out with my grandparents under the carousel while my brother was off enjoying, learning to love roller coasters and thrill rides (which I to this day could care less about).
The older I got, the more excited I was to watch for the yellow arrows, leading us to fun. Looking back, I know why we only got to go that one time of year, but I didn’t understand it as a kid. Eventually, in my teen years, I fundraised my way to go with clubs, band, and youth groups. Times were still fun, and memories were still made.
Potato patch fries with cheese (eventually with buffalo chicken strips).
Dodging the moving walkways in Noah’s Ark.
Soaring through the sky on the swings.
Swooping down in the paratroopers.
Jamming to DMB on the Musik Express.
Riding the Racers with my band director and realizing why I hated coasters.
Playing skee ball, fish pond, and duck pond.
Cotton candy on the ride home.
Peeling soaking wet clothes and shoes off after the Raging Rapids.
Today, as we drive across the Rankin Bridge, my heart and mind will remember what it’s like to be a kid again, and my eyes will watch in awe as A and E enjoy my work picnic with my parents and family. I cannot wait!