Aruba, 1991
Picture it, Aruba, 1991. My mother happened to find the only historical landmark on the 70 square mile island, and by God, we were going to that landmark. My mother finding the local history on any given vacation was like her own personal shot glass collection. As much as we hated to leave the pool, our walkmans and the virgin daiquiris, my mom made us all pile into one of Aruba’s finest rental cars (which isn’t saying much) and forced us to make the drive to the “other side” of the island. This was the side of the island with no resort hotels, no fruity drinks, no casinos, no one to hear our screams. It might have been the outer ring of hell. There was nothing. It is important to mention that our trip to Aruba was at the very beginning of the island building up its tourist business. There were not very many hotels to begin with and next to nobody was visiting. I have no idea what is on the other side of the island now, but th...
