Daddy learned the building trade during the years he and Mother lived in Miami. By the time they moved to Tampa in 1958, he had a general contractor’s license and three more kids to feed. They rented an old house downtown on Central Avenue to live in while he worked and scoped out where he wanted to scratch out a place and build some homes. Steve and I are perched on the short brick wall enclosing the porch of that house. I’m sure Florice and Wally could fill in a lot more details about that house and the time we spent there.
It didn’t take Daddy long to find the area near Tampa called Brandon, a sleepy little burg too close to Tampa not to grow in those Florida boom times. By the third grade, we were living in Brandon, but in the 1958-59 school year, I walked to school down a shady sidewalk and attended Mrs. Hernandez’s second grade class.
“Mary Beth is a good student, but she needs to learn to eat her vegetables, and her handwriting needs to improve.” For the record, I eat a lot of vegetables now. As for the handwriting. . . let’s just say that I have to learned to type in many attractive fonts.