From the Vineyard Gazette edition of July 6, 1962:
More than seventy-five fun-loving tots and forty-five interested adults were lined up along an Edgartown dock early one afternoon this week. Each squirmed to get on the Bonnie Jean, of fond memory for her service during the boatline strike two summers ago. She handled most of the transportation to and from the U.S.S. Glennon, the destroyer here for the Fourth of July activities.
The sixty men, women and children who scampered, butted, shoved, jumped, or stampeded their way aboard were indeed proud as the small boat pulled away. Long faces were indicative of the emotions of those that missed the Bonnie Jean.
The sailboats and motor boats, especially the huge cabin cruisers, which filled the harbor for the holiday period, made the twenty-five minute trip to the Glennon exciting. As the Bonnie Jean rounded the lighthouse, all eyes turned toward the Glennon, which suddenly loomed up in the harbor. The deep blue water, the dazzling Chappaquiddick beach, and little white spots scattered on the destroyer’s gray commanded attention.
Gentle sunburns and smiles were plentiful on the visitors, but many tried to enrich their tans by wearing shorts and short-sleeved or sleeveless shirts.
As the Bonnie Jean drew closer, her passengers turned their heads to see what was happening on board. The casualness of shipboard life was surprising to those taught by movies to expect sailors on duty to be rigidly military at all times. Lines were hanging in what seemed to the layman in too loose a position. Other visitors were treking through the ship rather aimlessly. All of the sailors seemed to be enjying life to its fullest, some in relaxed positions, smoking, and a few were fishing. Just as the Bonnie Jean circled the Glennon to tie up to her, a fishing sailor hoisted aboard a fish that was a small sand shark, and was given identifications that ranged from sea robin to scup.
A long line of sailors and civilians was waiting for the Bonnie Jean to finish discharging its passengers.
Calls of “Hi, Larry!” from a band of young girls on the Bonnie Jean to a sailor served to show which of the Navy had already gone ashore as an effective ambassador. The uniforms of the sailors struck many visitors as being quite white, but a visiting ex-Navy man, who thought before the tour that he knew more about the destroyer than his eight-year-old nephew, commented that the white was whiter in his day.
What began as a guided tour with a score of visitors ended up with one sailor talking to one infatuated girl, who did not realize or care that the other civilians had gradually gone their way.
Young boys clambered over a torpedo and through rockets. They climbed through hatches into the seats of the gunners, and although some of the lively youngsters (luckily for the Navy it happens only one a year) no doubt found how to set off the five inchers, their parents managed to see that there were no serious misadventures. Little girls were more interested in the captain’s seat on the bridge, where everyone played skipper.
The adults were captivated by the inside of the ship, especially by the radar equipment. The old timers hardly felt energetic enough to move about the Glennon in the manner and ease with which the youngster maneuvered. To reach another deck, an adult had to climb terrifyingly steep stairs. There was some question whether the more lively boys actually used the stairs.
Suddenly the loudspeaker blared that the Bonnie Jean was about to pull up alongside the Glennon and that passengers who wanted to return at that time should move to one side of the ladder. The faces that had been disappointed at missing the Bonnie Jean an hour and a half before were now gleeful. There was the usual rush to get on the Glennon. The boy who was the first aboard was not ashamed of it and everyone soon knew who had beat the rest.
Again there was a scramble to get on the Bonnie Jean. Some sixty-five squeezed on, leaving several boys, to the relief of others, on the motor boat, for in the hands of one was the sand shark that had been caught not too long before, and in the hands of sea robins.
For those who returned on the Bonnie Jean, the Glennon had been exciting and fascinating. The children loved it and the adults were more intrigued by it than they had thought they would be. All though it was fun to sailors, at least for a few minutes.
Complied by Alison L. Mead