Alva,
Florida, United Methodist Church has returned our call, and it looks like we
will be heading there tomorrow. Alva lies about three hours drive south below
Lake Okeechobee and west somewhat toward Fort Myers. Though we don’t know if we
will be able to see friends in that area till we come back north from the Keys.
Today we
hung out around the coach reading, movieing, and relaxing till after lunch when
we took a ride over to the Osceola County Pioneer Village.
Made up of
the Bass Family homestead (citrus and cattle) which was founded about the same
time as the town of Kissimmee, the county historical association has restored
the remaining Bass farm buildings and brought in several other structures from other
parts of Osceola County from the same time period, 1880 to 1915.
There are at
least six and possibly a dozen more buildings which will be built as complete
replicas of key county properties now gone using original plans, photographs and
written anecdotes about them. In fact, their plots are already marked with
historic story signs and site stakes.
Two years
ago a group of Seminole came up from one of the Southern Florida Reservations
and built authentically roofed replicas of a 19th century Seminole
village. But they used longer lasting
treated wood and factory production poles instead of fresh cut cypress or pine for
the structures themselves.
I learned something
important today. I learned that a Florida ‘cracker’ is not the same as other
deep south ‘crackers’. In the rest of
the south a ‘cracker’ is synonymous with a redneck, or even a white overseer on
an antebellum plantation; a whip cracker over the heads of black people.
In Florida a
‘cracker’ is a cattle or horse breeder, wrangler, or even a farm worker. He or she cracks a whip, riding crop, or
lasso to get their animals to do what they need done. The term often gets confused between its two
uses. So the signs in this village
museum which use the term ‘cracker’ are often brought into question by visitors
assuming the park is being racist. But
they are only being historically correct.
We went back
to the coach and received a message from Chad Gresh telling us they were ready
to meet us for dinner at the Tex-Mex place, Chuy’s,
about half way up 192 to their home.
Chuy’s has
the lightest tortilla chips, and the most wonderful assortment of free salsas
you can imagine. We purchased meals
(shared by couples) and the free chips and dips became the basic main course.
Then we
topped off our gas tanks at the new WAWA across the street at $2.42 a gallon
(WAWA’s are popping up all over Florida now) and headed to their home for a
great hour or two of talking, playing with their three guinea pigs and Pixie,
their Chihuahua/Dachshund pup.
Now we’re
home and Mona is in bed reading, and I am typing this blog. But I’ve got a movie to finish watching before
I crawl into bed. Then tomorrow: Alva, here we come!
-Ken
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