Of course, passports aren’t all that’s necessary to go traveling, at least not in the early sixties. My own experience of all the shots I had to get can best be summed up with this story.
When I was back in the US, Hawaii in fact, around the age of nine, I had an ear ache. It seemed I had some sort of infection and that was back in the day of prescribing antibiotics for just about everything. Probably not a good idea, but generally, in about 5-10 days you were better, with or without the shot I suppose.
They also used to give you the shots in the bum if you were child. Not my favorite thing, but there you go. In any case, the nurse began to talk soothingly saying I was going to feel just a little sting, like a bee. I smirked. The nurse, questioning my lack of participation in her fantasy was addressed by my mom. “Go ahead, just give him the shot. He was a human pincushion at age four. It’s fine.”
It’s true. I had a lot of shots to be allowed overseas.
My dad too. I suspect my mom did as well…but I’ve no proof nor memory. Here’s my dad’s vaccination card proving he’d been poked, prodded, and pincushion.
Slower, cheaper, less useful…