a little Friday reminiscing ...

I saw this picture on Pinterest and saved it to my phone. It reminded me of an earlier time in my life, when I was still figuring out who I was going to be.

I lived in Key West, Florida from April 1975 until October 1982, before the Navy sold Truman Annex and the cruise ships arrived. For most of those years I drove a 1958 Nash Metropolitan just like this one. It was a hardtop with bench seats and the gear stick on the column. It was "Caribbean Green!"

I bought it for $260 from an older woman named Shirley who lived on the Gulf side of Big Pine Key. She purchased it "new" in Miami and drove it into the Keys and it had never been further north than Miami in its life. It had 5,800 miles on it when I bought it and it had been sitting in her garage for a few years. With the help of a friend, we put a new battery in it, and it started right up. The body was made of galvanized steel making it resistant to the rust that permeates vehicles in the subtropics and it was a very sturdy little car! It was an awful lot of fun to drive!

During the years I owned this car I was involved with the local community theatre group at the Waterfront Playhouse. One of the directors, Ruth Newton, brought guest artists into town for one or two shows at the theatre to raise money. One day, she asked me if I could pick up a man at the Key West airport. His name was Kevin McCarthy and he was doing his one man show, "Give 'em hell, Harry." I was to take him to the Pier House so he could check in to his hotel room, then bring him to the theatre.

When Mr. McCarthy (I never could call him Kevin) approached my car in front of the airport that day with his leather valise in hand, he laughed at my car, then told me he had done TV commercials for Nash-Rambler in the 1950s for the Metropolitan. He said there were less than 14,000 of them produced, which seemed like a lot to me, but, I would learn it really wasn't much. He seemed quite delighted to be escorted around Key West in my little car and it was certainly fun for me. He was an absolute gentleman the entire time and actually talked of his wife and son with much fondness. I took him back to the airport when it was his time to depart and he gave me his address and phone number and told me to call when I finally made it to New York City. I never made it and now he's gone. But, I've got this lovely memory!

I also had the privilege of schlepping Academy Award winning actress Estelle Parsons around in 1979 when she came to do her one woman show, "Miss Margarida's Way." My girlfriend and I were her "handlers." They didn't call it that back then, but, that's what we did. We took her shopping, out to eat, drinking, and, I'm telling you, she was a wild woman! She called us on stage during her performances and I do believe Kristy and I held our own during the improvisations! It was a dynamite experience to be that close to that kind of talent and I prayed some of it would rub off on me!

Superman's love interest, Lois Lane, drove a custom Metropolitan on the 1950s TV show, and that did as much to make it famous as any of the television commercials. Mine was the only Metropolitan in the Lower Keys and for those few formative years I was someone special because I drove that car.

I grew up in the Commonwealth of Virginia with a very bossy (some would say overbearing) mother, so driving around a tiny island at the southernmost point in the United States, far away from her, in my little Lois Lane car gave me the freedom to discover myself. I really needed that. I needed to be around other people, especially other women, who lived their lives on their own terms. It showed me the way I wanted to go. And, while it's not an easy path to travel, I think it's much of the reason I've been able to find joy in the face of despair. I had great role models and for that I am eternally grateful.

baby in the cradle

How odd.
I've discovered something that's NOT on Wikipedia.

Do you remember CB radios? They were popular with truck drivers before there were cell phones, allowing truckers to talk to each other while they were driving. They'd share weather and traffic info, alert their fellow drivers where the cops were set up with their speed traps, and if someone had trouble, a CB radio call brought help. When Burt Reynolds' movie, "Smokey and The Bandit" hit movie theatres across the country in 1977, CB radios became popular with mainstream America and the CB culture was born! Got that, good buddy?

I had been living in Key West for nearly seven years when Reagan's recession hit in 1983 and I lost all three of my jobs, one at a time. It was a desperate time for me. I didn't want to leave Key West. I loved it there. I wasn't a world traveler, so, I didn't know where else I could go and find work. I'd been playing around with the idea of Fort Lauderdale; I'd been there a couple of time with my girlfriend and it had a good vibe. But, you don't just up and move when you have a child. You have to plan and prepare. I wasn't yet smart enough to understand this, so I drove to my mother's in Virginia and left my daughter with my mom while I figured out what I was going to do. We agreed it would only be for a few weeks.

It was on that return trip to Key West that I learned about "baby in the cradle."

I was driving a 1977 Toyota Celica, like the one in the picture. From Key West to my mother's home in Virginia was a 13 hour ride, and, back then, I could handle it, stopping only when one of us had to go to the bathroom. It was me, the kid and our dog, and we made it to our destination without incident.

I stayed over for two nights, leaving my mom's right after dinner on the third day for the return run, thinking I could get through the Carolinas and Georgia and well into Florida by morning. Traffic late at night was mostly tractor trailers hauling freight. There weren't that many tourists driving to Florida back in the early 1980s; nothing like it is today. Disney World and Spring Break were folks' main reasons for coming to Florida back then.

I thought I was making really good time when I hit South of the Border at the NC/SC state line just after midnight, so I pulled into a Burger King for a cup of coffee and a bathroom break for me and the dog. I also bought her a hamburger. And, no, she didn't get the bun or the pickle; just the burger! When we'd finished our break, I got back into my car to head out, but it wouldn't start. It was definitely a "what the fuck" moment. Here I was, a long way from home with a tiny amount of money and no idea what to do.

I sat on the curb next to my car, the hood up, talking to the dog, trying to figure out what my next move was. I was grateful that it was night and there weren't a lot of people around. I was able to have a good cry. I'd been sitting there for a while when two guys came out of the Burger King and asked me what the problem was. I told 'em my car wouldn't start. The taller of the two walked over to his big rig and brought out a tool box. The other one, puffing on his Marlboro, poked around in the engine. It took them just a few minutes to diagnose my problem. The tall one said, "Your alternator is shot."

When I asked what that meant, they explained to me that they could get my car started, but, the battery wouldn't charge and I wouldn't be able to run my headlights. They suggested I wait until morning and return to my mother's in Virginia. They were clear that trying to drive to Key West without headlights was a risky thing to do. (Yes. I was foolish enough to think I could do it.)

I remember quietly crying and thanking them for their help and watching as they packed up their tools. The tall guy walked over to his truck, and the Marlboro man walked around behind the Burger King.

I watched as the tall one pulled his rig out onto the highway; then, he pulled over onto the shoulder of the highway. At the same time, the Marlboro man came around from behind the Burger King in his rig and stopped right in front of me. I was still sitting on the curb with the dog on the leash. Mr. Marlboro jumped down from his cab and walked toward me.

He asked me if I was a fan of "Smokey and the Bandit."

Well, of course I was! Who wasn't?

Then he asked me if I had a CB radio in my car.

I did. My handle was "Lady Blue."

Then, he explained to me what they (he and the the tall guy) could do. He asked me if I knew what "baby in the cradle" was. I didn't. Then he explained it.  I could drive my car in between their trucks without my headlights. They were going to Jacksonville, planning to be there come morning, and if I could keep up, this was what they would do for me.

I don't know why they were willing to help me. To this day I cannot tell you why these two men would help a weepy woman with a dog. But, they did. And, I was very grateful.

I asked the Marlboro man if I could go pee and, before he could answer, I handed him the dog's leash. I didn't know how long it would be before they stopped, but, I had consumed a cup of coffee and I needed to tinkle before we hit the road. I was definitely in.

Driving your car between two big rigs is intimidating. Under normal circumstances, when you hit your brakes, your car stops within a few car lengths, based on the speed at which you're traveling. A tractor trailer needs a lot more of those 'car lengths' to come to a complete stop, so there's no messing around when you're riding in the "cradle." I spent the night listening and watching and maintaining 70 mph.

I will admit that the first hour or so was a bit harrowing. If you've ever driven through Georgia via I-95, there is one long stretch that's just forest on both sides of the road for as far as you can see. Somewhere in that stretch of road I began to feel comfortable. They chatted it up on the CB and every now and then they would call out to me. I was so overwhelmed by their kindness that I didn't know what to say most of the time.

We stopped at a truck stop around 5 AM, about 30 miles from the Florida state line. They started talking to me about stopping a good half hour before we ever exited the highway. It was the hardest part for me, maintaining speed and distance, slowing down slowly while watching behind and in front. But, I did it. Or, THEY did it!

They bought me breakfast, waited while I got gas and we got out on the road that one last time. As we crossed the Florida state line, the sun was coming up and they got chatty on the CB. They began explaining to me what was going to happen when we got to Jacksonville, that they would be exiting the highway and I would continue on my journey to Key West. I remember telling them I wished there was some way I could thank them. And, I remember the Marlboro man saying, "Get home safe. That'll be thanks enough."

It's been a really long time since I thought about that trip from Virginia to Key West. A single memory, frozen in my mind. So, when it surfaced recently, as old memories are prone to do, I Googled "baby in the cradle." I was truly surprised that there was nothing at all. Not a single entry.

Since that time, I have loved and respected truck drivers. I'm the one who slows to let them pull over in front of me on the highway when no one else will. And, I'm the one who gets mad (and, blows her horn) at people who cut in front of big rigs. Those idiots need to spend a night in the 'cradle' to teach them a lesson! Although, these days, you probably won't see that happening. Too many cars, too many people and way too many regulations. And, lots of highway patrol officers.

Wherever the tall guy and the Marlboro man went, whatever they did after that night, I'm sure their good karma followed. Lucky for me those angels were on duty that night. They kept me safe and helped me get home. Thank you, both.

Memoir of a Flower Delivery Person

Design Sponge photo

I believe that to be a good writer, you must read, read, read. I think C.S. Lewis nailed it when he wrote, "We read to know we are not alone." Listening to other voices helps us to find our own, and, even as old as I am, I know I still have much to learn.

I have been a subscriber to Design*Sponge for a long time and enjoy the people profiles they do which always include lots of great photos. Last week they did a story called "A Day in the Life of Ruthie Lindsey," an interior designer, stylist and creative director who seems to be well known on Instagram. Lindsey talked about how much she loves springtime and all the flowers that appear at this loveliest time of year. She uses them often in her design work and, from the photos, she has a true affinity for showcasing a variety of blossoms. She said, "I think being a delivery girl for a florist would be such fun - you get to make people SO happy!"

After I finished reading her story and drooling over those wonderful pictures, I went back to that paragraph to re-read that sentence. You see, I once worked as a delivery girl for a florist.

I lived in Key West from 1975-1982. It was a great place to be as a young woman in my twenties, but, with no college education, it was a challenge to make a livable wage. I do not remember ever having less than two jobs. The usual arrangement was a full time job as a typesetter and a part time job as a waitress or barmaid. I was always combing the Classified Ads in the local newspaper, the Key West Citizen, for a job that paid more. It's what you do in your twenties, isn't it? Then, one day, while eating lunch and browsing the want ads, a little ad caught my eye: "Flower Delivery Driver; part-time; some shop duties. Good pay."

Yep. I called.

The flower shop, American Beauty Florist, was located on Truman Avenue, across the street from my day job at Green Street Graphics. The irony of that was not lost on me, either. I spoke to a man, Larry, and he wanted me to come in for an interview the next day.

Now, I don't have any idea how many people applied for that job. It was summer 1979, so I'm thinking 'not many.' It's not like it was a career building job. It was the kind of job that a retired person might do for extra income.

I don't remember a lot of the details of the interview. Larry did most of the talking, with occasional questions coming from his wife, Judith. They were older, somewhere in the neighborhood of 50, and they had two doberman pinschers, so I knew they were cool. I do remember the very last question though. Judy asked it. "Can you type?"

"Well, shucks! Yeah!" I answered, quickly! Larry asked when I could start; how about the next day? And, that was the beginning of a wonderful friendship. I would go on to work for Judy and Larry until I left Key West in 1982. Whenever I went back for a visit, I would call ahead and arrange for a visit with them while I was in town. There were a couple of Fantasy Fest weekends when I drove down from Fort Lauderdale and was their house guest. I loved them both and, as Judy often said, Larry thought I was special. He always held me accountable for my performance, but it was always crystal clear that he liked me. He may have been the first man I ever knew that liked me for me.

There was an art to delivering flowers in Key West in those days. Key West was only just beginning to become the tourist destination it is today. It was still very much a Navy town. Larry knew the island like the back of his hand, so in the beginning, he would mark where I was going on a map and the order the deliveries were to take. The roses always were delivered first! I drove a white Chevrolet van with no air conditioning and the typical route was a big circle around the island. Larry was very particular about how the flowers were presented. I was supposed to park as close to the door of my destination as I could and leave the motor running. I'd pull back that sliding door, check the name on the card that was tucked into the bouquet with the name on my list, grab the bouquet, sliding the door closed, and knock on a door announcing, "American Beauty!" He was very specific about that and I worked as though he were right behind me, watching every move I made. I knew he knew a lot of folks, so I wasn't taking any chances. I liked this job and I wanted to keep it, so I didn't need any tattletales telling Larry I didn't do it right!

I delivered flowers to the U.S. Naval Air Stations at Truman Annex and Boca Chica. I delivered uncut flowers to La Terraza de Marti, the Pier House and the Casa Marina twice a week. I delivered flowers to churches for weddings and funerals, and to homes and apartments for anniversaries and birthdays. My personal favorite was delivering flowers to the hospital on Stock Island for the newborn babies. Judy created the most adorable bouquets of flowers, whether for a boy or a girl, and it was delightful to be the one to present them to a new mother. I picked up flowers from the Key West airport twice a week unless it was a flower holiday. Then, I picked up three times a week. My little pooch, Snuggles, always accompanied me on deliveries and we loved the ride on South Roosevelt Boulevard along the ocean to get to and from the airport.

Snuggles, keeping watch
at the front door of the shop.

Snuggles was a cockapoo and had the sweetest disposition of any dog I've ever known. Judy loved her dearly and Snuggles spent a great deal of her time in Judy's lap, unless we were delivering flowers. She was very popular at LaTeDa and the Pier House and her popularity allowed me the opportunity to meet some amazing people. Larry would get calls for flowers, but only if Snuggles delivered them. That's how we met Tennessee Williams, Calvin Klein and Nancy Friday, among others.

The big flower holidays were (and, still are) Valentine's Day and Mother's Day, although Larry did quite a good business at Thanksgiving and Christmas. He was a hustler and American Beauty Florist was a success for those many years because he had a good business brain and Judy had a fabulous design gene. They had good people working for them, too.

Of all the jobs I have had in my lifetime, working for Judy and Larry was my favorite job ever. I worked my butt off delivering flowers; it was very physical work and Larry was always watching the clock. He knew how long it should take. But, I loved it! No one was ever unhappy to receive flowers, and there's something to be said for a job that always delivers smiles!

Ruthie Lindsey said, "I think being a delivery girl for a florist would be such fun - you get to make people SO happy!" I'm here to tell you she is absolutely right!

Larry passed away in 2007, and, fortunately for me, I got a chance to visit with him that summer. Judy passed away in 2012 and I still have the last note she sent with her annual Christmas card. They were, without question, a wonderful couple and I'm glad they were a part of my life. The last time I saw Larry, he sent me home with a frangipani tree in a pot. I planted it in my back yard and today it is about 15 feet tall and covered with fragrant white flowers. My darling husband thinks it's funny that I call the tree "Larry," but I'm sure that wherever he and Judy are, they're looking down smiling. Once a flower person, always a flower person! Right?