So we went to Billy’s house looking for food.
Fortunately, Billy’s parents were off the Island
for the night. The only food that I remember is a
piece of fatback, which is actually salted pig belly
– mostly fat but if you got it crispy it was a great
sandwich.
Here’s when things go bad for me. I was
holding a plate for Billy as he was taking the
well done pieces out of the skillet. He took out
one big fat piece that was spewing grease and
bubbling and spitting and laid it right across
my thumb. I immediately had a blister from my
thumb nail to the second joint. It hurt like a sum
*itch. That ended the camping for me. I took off
for home.
Now I’m going to tell you something that I
have never told before. I hope that you all will
not spread this around, but I was crying all the
way home. I tried to make no noise as I passed
Hazel’s and Beverly’s house as I didn’t want them
to see me crying.
That was just one of my days at Boca Grande,
Florida. Circa 1948. What fun!
Billy is gone, my brother is gone and so many
others.
Boca Grande in the summer
We were just walking along, me, Billy Langford,
Skipper Harrison and Randy Fugate. The street
ran past The Gasparilla Inn and on down to the
Bayou and some guide boat docks and paralleled
the fi fth fairway of the golf course. We were
near the tee-off for the 5th. This was a par 4 and
went back toward the Bayou, and then a short
par 3 across the water. We didn’t go by street
names, except maybe Gilchrist Avenue. We used
references like “the Drugstore,” “The Drugstore
Beach,” “Down by Whiddens, “ “the Bayou
Bridge,” “Over near the Sharps’,” “the school.,”
etc.
Anyway …It was a summer morning and we
had nothing to do. The heat of the day hadn’t
built up and we were just doing what 12-and-13-
year-old boys do, which is nothing.
“What’s that,” Skipper yelled.
“Where, where?” said Billy.
“Up in that tree.”
“I don’t see nuthin,” said John.
Skipper was real excited by then.
“It’s a raccoon.”
“Let’s catch it,” said Billy, “They make good pets.
I’m going to climb up and get it.”
With a boost from John, Billy started up the
tree.
A voice startled us.
“WHAT ARE YOU BOYS DOING?”
It was one of the groundskeepers that worked
for Mr. Langford.
“We’re going to catch that raccoon and make a
pet,” someone said.
“No you are not, get down from that damn
tree, Billy Langford, or I’ll tell your dad. Are you
boys crazy?”
“Well we were just going to play with it.”
“Well, you aren’t, so go on now.”
We grumbled a bit but started to leave. The
last thing I remember the grounds keeper saying
was ...
“It would take just one of you boys to grab that
raccoon but it would take all four of you to turn
it loose.”
That’s how I remember my boyhood days in
Boca Grande. Little snippets, sound bites. That old
man’s words have stayed with me.
Be careful of what you grab, you might not be
able to turn it loose.
Another camping trip
Middle of the summer, so hot and humid you
could barely breathe. We were gathered at the
railroad loading dock next to the Mercantile
across the street from the station. I don’t
remember all that were there. We tried to fi gure
out what to do on a hot summer day when the
fi sh wouldn’t bite, and all the girls were at home
86 GASPARILLA MAGAZINE January/February 2020