Out of the Frying Pan

My Town and Me

David McClain suggested that I write about the town we live in now and some of the people I know, so I thought I’d give it a try.

Cassie Reynolds and the kids and I live in a sprawling suburb in the Tampa bay area. When I moved here in 1978, it was a small town with only two paved roads. It’s changed dramatically since then.

The post office was in the heart of town, on Florida Avenue, in the town’s main business district. It was housed in a small one-story building, maybe thirty feet wide. Now the post office is a mile away and takes up a whole city block. The old post office building is still there, but is a small dentist’s office.

Here's the barber shop, which is pretty close to the dentist's office.
Our boys go there to get their hair cut for five bucks.

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There was a small grocery store down the street from the post office, owned by a local man and his wife, and incredibly, the man’s name was Dewy. Dewy Adair. He and his wife lived in an apartment on the back of the building, just like Dewy Massey had, up in Kentucky. The Adair’s son ran an insurance company from an office upstairs, above the grocery store, and it wasn’t the kind of insurance setup they have now. Premiums were paid directly to him, then if the need arose, he would pay for repairs out of his own pocket. That building now houses a trendy cafe downstairs, and several business offices upstairs.

Here's the building that used to be Adair's Grocery downstairs, the insurance company upstairs. Sometime after this picture was taken, the sports bar became "Eric's New World Bistro." I think it closed, though.

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Also on Florida Avenue was a hardware store, filled from front to back, top to bottom, with every hardware-related item you could think to ask for. It was also owned and run by a husband and wife team. It’s still there, run by their son.

Back in the 70’s, this sleepy town had industry: a packing house, a corner store, a thriving lumberyard, a nationally-known trucking company, a toothpick factory, and a large firm of electricians. Every single one of those businesses are gone now. The properties that they occupied are now either housing developments or strip malls.

There was also a large construction company, run by a man who is in his nineties now. It’s still around and his kids run it.

On the corner of Florida Avenue was a garage with three service bays and an old-fashioned full-service Texaco, complete with a glass case of cigarettes out there between the two pumps. The Texaco is now a SuperGas, and the garage now has six service bays.

At the end of Florida Avenue was the Gulf of Mexico. Shrimp boats used to bring in their catches there. The Gulf of Mexico is still there, but now that area is a county park, surrounded by fancy three-story houses. This is the park that we go to for our evening picnics.

Two pictures from the park mentioned here.

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From another nearby park.
We had Kevin's birthday party in that shelter a few years back.

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Up the coast a little ways is a small pocket of “old Florida,” populated with tiny houses that used to be summer cottages, overlooking the gulf. One of the older structures in that neighborhood is a church that sits right on the water’s edge. It’s no coincidence that my wife and I chose to be married there.

The church we were married in, then another church in town.

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The house we live in is several blocks from the downtown area. When I first moved here back in the seventies, the house was on a dirt road, and across the street was a huge orange grove. People used to hunt for doves, squirrels, or rabbits out in that grove. Years ago, I used to wend my way through the groves to swim in the “Blue Sink,” an actual freshwater sinkhole. The water in that sinkhole flowed underground and emptied into the gulf just west of that church we got married in. Now those groves are gone, replaced by a multimillion dollar high school. Blue Sink is now fenced in and surrounded by a housing development which was ironically named “Hidden Lakes.” Once upon a time that “lake” was hidden, but with the grove gone and that big old fence around it, it’s not exactly hidden anymore.

Behind the grove was an old cemetery. Right after I moved here, I built a platform up in the trees above the cemetery, just to have a place to be alone to think or read. The cemetery is still there, but there’s a YMCA right across the street.

The cemetery.

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As for me, I’ve worked at the same job for 27 years, but I’ve also from time to time taken on second jobs. I worked in construction and was a mechanic. My friend, Brian and I, at one time, were the only two licensed master mechanics in our town.

Along the way I also helped to run a music studio, recording shows for radio, like debates or church bible hours. We also recorded fledgling singers who wanted to see how they sounded on tape, even providing back-up music for them.

As for me personally, I’ve had the same three best friends for over twenty years, a transplanted New York Sicilian named Tony, and two bachelor brothers that lived together, Jim and Bruce. Tony and his wife live several miles south of us and we still get together or talk regularly. Jim and Bruce were somewhat opposites from each other, Jim loud, rambunctious and outgoing, Bruce quiet, reserved, and brainy. All three of these men were gifted with killer senses of humor and have never failed to make me laugh.

Unfortunately, Bruce died last year. It’s still hard to just say “Jim,” because for so long they were “JimandBruce,” as if they were a single entity.

So that’s where I live and who I am.

The highway that runs through town, just a couple miles east of us.

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