As my dad and I walked to the town beach, the sounds of summer played like a familiar song: the crash of the ocean, the lifeguard’s sharp whistle and the shouts of kids leaping into the crisp June water. I spotted my nephews, ages 10 and 13, growing like weeds, and on their last day of summer surf camp, they waved back before happily paddling out. READ MORE from The Inertia
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