Old Glory Days

It’s Independence Day, the 4th of July, the celebration of the birth of our nation and all I can think about is what it was like in my hometown of Pinecastle, Florida back in the day.  In other words, way back when.

I was raised in this small, rural town five miles south of Orlando.  First settlers arrived in 1870, including Will Harney, who built his log house to resemble a castle on Lake Conway.  Hence, the name, Pine Castle later converted to Pinecastle.  Dairy farming was the mainstay at that time.

My grandparents with three children and another one on the way arrived in the early 1930s, shortly after my grandfather lost his job in Orlando.  After the glorious Florida development boom in the 20s, the Depression hit hard.  Lots of family lore recalled my grandmother ringing a chicken’s neck and plucking the feathers for what they considered a real feast.  Their cow, Baby, gave them milk and feed sacks were converted into underwear.  I hope that part’s not true but who could make that up?

Downtown consisted of what I considered a huge feed store where the Atlantic Coast Line Railroad stopped daily.  I remember my mother buying me a rabbit’s foot in the five and ten cent store, which I swear to this day brought me good luck.  There was Miss Quimby’s Hair Salon where my sister and I got perms regularly even though we had natural curly hair.  Doc’s Drug Store was the hangout.  I can still taste his delicious milkshakes.

Gay’s Apparel sold dresses but it was too expensive for us.  My mom made all our clothes except for our underwear and pajamas.  Lonnie’s Grocery Store was the only grocer in town.  Of course, there was a small post office where we bought stamps for 3 cents.  The Methodist and Baptist churches anchored the north and south ends of town.

All major events were held at the Pine Castle Women’s Club.  Dave’s Hardware Store was right next to Meloon’s Correct Craft whose motorboats became hugely popular.

The elementary school was built in 1877.  By the time I enrolled, there were about 200 children and several of my teachers had also taught the previous generation.  It was an everybody knew everybody environment so you couldn’t get away with much, even though I tried my darnedest.

This was still in the day when all the housing was wood framed, and there were still more than a few outhouses in existence.  We lived down the road from my grandparents who gifted my parents with a lot.  My father, a local GI, along with my uncles built our house out of a barracks from the army base.

Every day the town whistle sounded at noon, which you could hear for miles around.  The Dixie Highway, later Orange Avenue, was the main street through town.

And, every fourth of July, there was a small parade followed by games and square dancing at the elementary school.  We all dressed up in our red, white, and blue outfits, waving our miniature flags.  It seemed like everybody showed up to celebrate the birth of the world’s greatest democracy.

As a child, I just remember how happy everyone seemed.  I don’t remember people being rich or poor.  I don’t remember anyone overindulging or arguing about the state of the world.  I just remember playing with my friends.

Later in the day, there were family BBQs, where we all stuffed ourselves to the gills, followed by slices of fresh watermelon sprinkled with salt.  The festivities were capped off with all of us children running around the yard with sparklers.  Firecrackers were not allowed...."you'll blow up your hand" declared the adults in charge.  It was a simpler way of life.

Not necessarily better.  We lacked diversity.  There was little or no inclusion.  Women were not in the workplace in great numbers.  The 50s were the quiet before the storm of the 60s.

You can never go home, say the sages.  And they are right.  My hometown got enveloped by Disney shortly after I left for college never to be seen again.  I love that I grew up in a small town even though I didn’t appreciate it then.  I couldn’t wait to leave to broaden my world.

But, every now and then, I love to reminisce.  That town still lives in my memories.