The Remedy It was the winter of 1966. We were heading north. Traveling up the eastern seaboard of America; following the same route and at the same speed as one of those yearly, August hurricanes that blow in from the warm equatorial Atlantic Ocean. The eye of this storm contained four siblings. Two in the middle, one in the back and one in the front. We all knew our places in the light blue 1962 Mercury Comet station wagon. My 17 year old brother was “riding shotgun” in the front seat, next to my father. One sister was in the back seat, next to me. The other occupied the flat space behind that. Swoosh ... swoosh … swoosh. The sound of passing cars on a wet road seemed endless. We would drive all the way to New Jersey from North Carolina on this road trip. As a military family, we were accustomed to road trips. California to south Carolina, South Carolina to New Jersey, Texas to north Carolina. Always in a car. (Except for the plane trip to and from Hawaii when my father was stati...