F. Paul Wilson - Gateways

Dad nodded. “Right. Who knows?”

As if there’d been some unspoken signal, they embraced.

“Good to have you back, son,” his father whispered. “Really, really good.”

They broke the clinch, but still gripped each other’s arms.

“Good to know the real you, Dad. You can take my back any time.” He broke free and grabbed his duffel. “See you back home.”

“Call me when you get in.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“No. I’ve always worried about you, but after what I’ve learned about you down here, I’ll really, really worry about you.”

Jack laughed as he pushed through the door and headed for the car and the airport and the plane home to Gia and Vicky.

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Afterword

South Floridians will know I played fast and loose with some of the geography inGateways . Joanie’s Blue Crab Café is not on US 1, but on the other side of the state, on Route 41 in Ochopee. But the crab cakes and softshell crab sandwiches are just as good as I described. While researching the Glades I’d often drive twenty or thirty miles out of my way to grab a bite and an Ybor Gold at Joanie’s.

As for Gator Country FM 101.9, it’s hard to pull in if you’re on US 1, but travel a little ways west and there it is. A good station for modern country and it kept me company during the drives.

Novaton may seem like Homestead, but it’s an amalgam of a number of towns I stayed in during my research sorties.

One thing I did not make up or overstate is the shameful neglect, mismanagement, and outright abuse suffered by the Everglades during the twentieth century. It’s a fragile, fascinating environment, sui generis, that’s been damn near ruined by rampant overdevelopment. There’s lots of talk lately of restoring the Everglades; let’s hope the folks talking the talk will walk the walk before it’s too late.

F. Paul Wilson

The Jersey Shore

March, 2003

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