Sara Scully – My Story
I watched the 70s perched atop the bathroom vanity, eyes riveted by my cousin Kathy Kelty applying layers of eyeshadow in a light-up Hollywood mirror, I could not take my eyes off her as she became more and more beautiful, with the release of each hot roller her blond locks bounced beyond her shoulders. My mind filled with imagining the glamourous disco she was going to.
I felt the 70s circling my mother in her argyle leather and mink car coat, brushing one little hand over it as I trotted round and round her hips while she gabbed with the bank teller.
I heard the 70s out the car window of our wheezy diesel Mercedes as we drove past New Hope’s Prelude. How I wished I was old enough to go in there. My outfit was planned; Adidas sneaker roller skates, lip gloss, hair up in two pony tails with satin bows and red satin pants to match, like Olivia Newton John. “I got chills, they’re multiplying…” The car radio drowned out the club as we rode by. Lines of people waited to get in there.
I smelled the 70s at the Village 2 pool, surrounded by men in speedos slathered in Ban de Soleil and cologne, punctuated by clouds of cigarette smoke; grilling hot dogs at the snack bar. I did cannonballs in the pool while they lounged, oblivious to us kids, even ones like me listening in on their conversations. They soothed their hangovers with sun and more brightly colored drinks.
Last night FACT revived one of the many 70s clubs that reigned glamourous (and unlicensed) in our sleepy town. January’s, short-lived but not forgotten. I cannot imagine it was the same, but how we all danced to make it so.
New Hope has changed so, so much. SUVs and helicopter parents fill the Village 2 pool now and the Prelude is now a bank. But we will never forget what was, and banks be darned, we will never stop dancing!
(Photo – Daniel Brooks, Philip Nicolosi, Robert Ebert, Annelies van Dommelen, Louis Licitra, Debra Kaplan Garvey, Billy O’Connor, Steve Lau, Margaret Ann Bledsoe, Lauren Johnson & friends.)