Florida(Tom Williams) Florida

I was thinking about my youth in Florida and just how much the culture and landscape has changed over the years. Swamps, scrub forest and open waterfronts have given way to strip malls, home sites and condominiums that block any hope for a clean view of the sea or pastured field. Traffic on once scenic roads has turned into a bustling stop and go undertaking where if you don’t hit the gas quickly when the light turns green someone will immediately honk. This causes sadness in the heart of a Cracker who once roamed the swamps in search of snakes and swam in Alligator filled lakes.

I wonder what it’s like to be a kid in Florida now. I see them in the malls and on the beach dressed in clothes that we never could afford carrying high end cell phones, oblivious to the natural world around them. They will never know what it’s like to pin a Pigmy Rattlesnake behind the head and pick it up. Is this a good thing or a bad thing, I wonder?

I remember chasing a water bandit in the creek near our house one day. The adventure had all the makings of something Peter Pan would do. The small swamp fed clear running stream was named Alligator Creek. Only the bravest of Florida kids would venture into such a place. My friend and I walked in waist high water through coon tail up to our thighs bravely. We held no fear of snakes or snapping turtles. If a gator tried to get us we would wrestle it and win because we were, real Florida kids. We made a pact and sealed it with a handshake of spit that if one was bitten by a Cottonmouth the other would suck out the venom, not knowing the poison would inflame the savior’s mouth. Yes, we were real Florida kids, tanned by the sun and blessed by the abundant natural world of sea and stream around us.

I took the lead walking slowly with eyes sharply pealed. Suddenly a bandit of three feet shot from the coon tail for the safety of the creek bank. “Get him, he’s getting away” my friend yelled with mounting excitement. My legs broke through the weeds like a warrior as I chased my prey. I pounced and snatched the serpent right behind the head. “Good Job” Tony yelled with approval. I lifted the beast high into the air with a smile. Tony most often got to the snake first but today victory was mine. I looked at him seeking a smile and a nod but his face was ashen and there was no smile. “It’s a Cottonmouth, don’t let him bite you.” I looked at the creature more closely with mounting fear. Its mouth was open and fangs extended as it tried to turn and bite my wrist. I squeezed more tightly secretly praying that I wouldn’t be killed or lose a hand by my own stupidity. I wanted to scream but then could never face Tony again as a real Florida kid if I did.

The snake and my heart calmed. It closed its wicked mouth. My ignorance returned thinking I was the master of the slithering beast. I ran home to proudly show my prize to my mother. “Mamma I caught a Moccasin” I yelled while bursting through the door. She was frying chicken calmly in the kitchen as her eyes caught my trophy. To this day I’ve never seen the look on her face or heard the particular scream she made as the serpent opened its mouth again with dripping fangs. She sounded like something between an injured cow and a Screech owl as she screamed. I was proud of her as she ran with the speed of an Olympic sprinter. I was proud of how quickly she regained her composure. “Get that thing out of my house right now! Don’t you let that thing bite you boy, you’ll get a whipping if you do!” She held a broom high in the air with fierce determination. She would bravely defend her home. Now that’s a real mom if I ever saw one. I released the snake back into the creek to be caught another day. Peter pan had nothing over Tony and me that day. We had caught a venomous snake, he could only fly. We were real Florida kids.

Tony Baloney and I caught many more serpents as we grew under the warm sun. He even grabbed a four foot Diamondback by the tail once as it tried to slither into a Gopher turtle’s hole. We caught a small gator once by hand. It was only three or four feet but we were brave as I jumped on its head and he wrestled with the tail. Those days were much better than any video game or I-Phone app. Whatever happens in our lives we can both carry the fact that we were brave. We had faced the beast and won.

Memories of those days in the sun pull at my heart. Has Florida changed all that much? Yes, and no. There are still swamps for kids to roam if they dare and I saw a Pigmy Rattlesnake the last time I was home. Florida hasn’t changed all that much but the culture has.

I pondered how to determine the standard for change in Florida for quite some time. Pondering is another thing I learned in the burning sun as my back lay in the sand and my feet in the cool breaking waves. I think shoes are the standard of change in Florida. When I was young being barefoot was completely acceptable. The bottoms of my feet had a leather-like thickness and could walk on a jet black parking lot at mid-day with no pain at all. I remember being greatly offended when I saw my first sign of change. A 7-11 put a sign on their front door that read: “No shoes, No shirt, No service.” “What! Are you people, crazy? This is Florida not New York City. Who do you think you are?” My words meant nothing to a changing land. Then it became the standard at all stores. The barefoot of Florida had been banished as outcasts in their own land. I recently observed that a barefoot kid is now looked at as something bad. “They didn’t know how to wear shoes until we came down and taught them how” I heard a Yankee remark. “That child’s mother should be ashamed. That boy needs shoes on his feet.” A lady said as a kid walked barefoot through a parking lot. I looked at the kid and smiled, knowing that he was having much more fun in life than her.

Yes barefoot anywhere is dead in the land of fun and sun. I think we’re all missing a very good part of life as a result. Next time I go home for a visit I think I’ll go barefoot into a store. I was here before them and I was barefoot. Maybe I’ll have a water bandit in my pocket just in case they give me any lip.

Tom Williams

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