Just off of Cooper Road in Voorhees is a bunch of condos crowded around Sunshine Lakes. Being a strange kid, I found it awesome that my grandmother remembered going on trips there when she was in her teens and twenties (which would have been in the 1930s). They’d hop in the cars in Philly, and soon enough, would be pulling up to the lake. She even showed me some pictures.
Setting the mood:
“We turned right soon after passing a giant Wise potato chip Owl sign and a New Jersey Transit bus stop, and drove down a dirt road which cut through the pine forest on both sides. Down a distance there was the ticket booth, a wooden painted white booth in the middle of the road where my Dad paid for the carload… The lakes in Jersey were brown. The beach had deep sand, very grainy and rough, not at all like the fine sand at the shore. The swimming area was wide and roped off so that you could not swim out to the middle of the lake let alone to the other side. The lake was large, taking up the view, and the swimming area was large enough for the crowd. The horizon was pine trees. Seclusion. There were several diving platforms, wooden planes built on concrete pillars that you could swim around, but the platform was not high enough for a tube to fit under. Teenagers sat on them and younger kids jumped or dived off of them.” ~ Janet Gibson, Pennypack Park: A Collection of Essays (not my grandmother)
Taking the Wayback Machine to 1939 – Sunshine Lakes
Setting up at the picnic tables.
Oh, and don’t go hiking there, it’s private property. And not really much of a hike anymore anyway.
I’m not good at staying on track with themes, you should be lucky I lasted this long!