2001-04-29 - 17:56 M DST

THE WONDERING JEW

Back File

Heather and made a trip to Tampa, Florida recently, (the Tampa Bay area back then has always been remembered by me as an area of snakes, Palmetto Bugs, Fiddler Crabs and Big Ben spiders), to visit the surviving mate of next door neighbors to us back when we lived there. They had three kids and we had four, the kids became playmates and we became friends and fellow Rummy players.

While we were there Heather and our friend shopped around and found packages of the dried ingredients for Spanish Rice at a specialty store (when we lived there stuff like that was on the shelves at any Publix or Winn Dixie), and Heather got the recipe for Spanish Bean Soup from our friend. She had always made it for us, Heather never had to.

Our oldest, a boy was seven years old when we went to Tampa, his sister was three and her sister two and the youngest was passenger on the trip to Tampa in his Mummy's tummy. So basically we did a lot of child rearing those years down there.

We had three of them to a reminiscent Tampa feed today, serving food they loved and well remembered. There was meat in the Spanish Bean soup, Spanish Rice yellow with saffron, a green salad and various things to drink, coffee, tea, iced tea, and various carbonated drinks. All in all Heather turned out a great meal, much enjoyed by all.

Talk at table was very reminiscent of those days when we lived in Tampa. Youngest son brought out the memory of me teaching him to swim in the waters off of Courtney Campbell Causeway. He also remembered that the power plant I worked at was in sight north of there. He remembered more than I did, he said that the day he was finally successful in learning to swim I got a Sea Urchin or something similar stuck in my hand - my memory refreshed. There were covered shelters over picnic tables there and we would go early enough to get our favorite one. We had our meal picnic style, with iced cold drink and did what we wanted to. Usually there was swimming involved and relaxation for Heather enabling her to catch a breath. Fishing occurred too, no big catches but enough to make the boys happy.

There was no way to put these memories in their date order, they came out spontaneously, bit by bit.

Having a decent job and four kids made things financially tight for us. I got an early morning paper route delivering the Tribune. The oldest, a boy was old enough to be of help to me and would get up early, help roll papers,load them and deliver them. He soon learned how to throw papers from his side of the car too. He learned every stop and learned how to deliver when our papers came to the station late. We would make a quick run through, throwing the papers to our early risers and then backtracking to deliver the rest of the route. We had it memorized to the extent that we could run it in any order, forward, backward, sideways, from either side). Never tried it upside down though, didn't want to leave hash marks on the top of the car.

His share of the earnings on the route enabled him to pay his way to Boy Scout Jamboree at Valley Forge. He ended up in "Order Of The Arrow," later on when we had come back to Denver.

Fond memories on both our parts were discussed. Hustling to get papers rolled, loaded and delivered when they came to the station late. Sunday's were special, the papers were big, and heavy. Fortunately they usually reached the station at a proper time. We would labor diligently over our task and when our delivery had been done a stop for coffee, milk and doughnuts was made. Then we would go out in the boonies (didn't have to go far to get there back then). I would stop and we would switch places, he would drive while I read at the Sunday paper. When first I tried that, I read little -- later on he had proved himself to me and I dove into the paper and he enjoyed and learned and papa was proud.

If the papers came early enough on Sunday, during nice weather we would sneak home, wake the other kids up and go to Lowry Park, wandering through the dew jewelled foliage and breathing in the early morning perfume of life, thus giving Heather a bit of extra sleep. First words from the kids when we arrived home, "Mama, I'm awful hungry." Breakfasts then were so enjoyable.

Memories flew thick and fast.

Oldest boy and his friend roaming the open space south of Hillsborough in our neighborhood, catching snakes and what ever other fauna came along. His friend became a Herpetologist.

One thing we all remembered as a Westerner will, were the wide open boonies there at that time, now there, is wall to wall walls, surrounded by more walls !

When we first moved to Tampa the artery, Dale Mabry did not go north of Hillsborough, long stretches west of Dale Mabry along Hillsborough were fenced, but empty, filled with Palmettos.

Heather and I verbally reminisced about the time she and her friend from next door decided to make planters in our houses, they started with big pieces of roofing, sand side down with another layer, sand side up. On top of that were layers of decorative rock bought from a nursery all mortared together. They did a very neat and nice looking planter in each house. They were finally disassembled and trashed when the cats of each household decided they made excellent litter boxes, our greenery could not survive that.

I was reminded of the time I painted one of our bedrooms. I still get teased about that, and still resent it a bit. I started out with a nice bluish gray paint and painted the wall that got the most light with paint right out of the pail. Then I added and mixed in some white paint and painted the next darkest wall, the fourth wall was painted with a mixture heavy on white (Darkest wall) and the ceiling was more white than colored. Man, in the daylight it looked like a well lit room, the different shading was not noticed. Huh, prophets and painters are not honored in their own country.

Hillsborough State Park along the Hillsborough River was to us a vast shady tree filled place to camp, picnic and have fun. It would get a bit crowded on holidays (what we considered crowded then).

Out on Nebraska in Sulphur Springs there was a large natural spring whose water flowed at a constant temperature somewhere in the seventies. On a hot summer day, I would freeze my buns on diving in, only lasted a short while though. I think that is where I finally understood why I got so tired when swimming the the warm bay water, it seemed to me that a body does not stop sweating when swimming in such temperature.

Ybor City, the section of town where the Cubans settled, where the Cigar factories were was one place that I remember having balconies on the store buildings including up to the third story -- supported by that lacy iron work often seen in New Orleans. Present day that has been replaced with prosaic structural steel.

I remembered how I loved to garden outdoors there. If I admired a Hibiscus or other plant in a friends yard, I would be given a cutting and on going home stick it in the ground in the place I wanted it to be - - - and it would, by golly, leaf out and thrive. Varieties that had to be grafted onto the sturdy red rootstock didn't take though.

Remembered by all, when TV appeared and we would stand outside a store window watching and wishing. When we finally got our own, the utter fascination attached to that box of marvels I don't think would be understood by today's people. Why heck, I even thought the professional wrestling I saw on TV was for real, until I finally figured out that if what appeared to happen really did happen the ambulance would be on the way to the nearest emergency room, or morgue.

There is more success and greater fun when we have live body help delving into the Back File . . . . . . . .

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