Franklin County, Nebraska

For Another Day

An Experience

Most likely there are some of you who know what Pensacola Beech, FL., looks like. If you have been there then you know how enchanting this part of the Gulf of Mexico is.

We dropped off Interstate 10 to Highway 90 that leads to Pensacola and took the toll road over to Navarre Beach driving on to Pensacola Beach a distance of maybe ten to fifteen miles.

The beachfront along this highway on the Santa Rose Island is a national park. You would know why this small stretch of beach needs to be protected if you could see it. The sandy beach and the dunes are white like they have been sprinkled with sugar and the water rolling onto shore is emerald green. We have been to Florida many times, all up and down both the east and west side and we personally don’t think there is a prettier place in the state.

I would have sworn it had snowed upon rising and liking out the window at the white sand dunes, until I opened the door and felt the warm air. I asked about why the sand was so white and was told by a gift shop owner that this is Silica Sand. I still don’t understand-maybe some of you can explain what that means. The vegetation is protected on the dunes and shoreline because there is so little.

During the week we were in Florida it was the Mardi Gras Celebration. From New Orleans to Fort Walton Beach there were parades. There were a lot of floats with bright colored attire adorned with gaudy colored beads; my beads are gold with purple. The beads were thrown from the floats. Everyone had a mighty good time.

The Shriners were staying at our motel and they fixed the best looking Cajun food. I wanted to invite myself to supper. The owner of our motel said, “We celebrate Mardi Gras here too-just a little quieter than New Orleans.”

The Five Flags Inn, where we stayed, faced the white beach. The nights were cool and days warm. They say down there, for us northern people to watch the jet stream on the weather report. If the stream is above Pensacola Beach area it will be warm and if it’s below it could be cold in the area.

The motel desk clerk said November until the end of February is the off-season and a room could be rented at he inn for $265.00 a week that sounded reasonable to me. Inside and out of the motel the constant rush of the waves hitting the beach rang in our ears. That sound, along with the wind blowing through the palms, made for good rest and sleep.

We drove around in Pensacola one day and found it is called the town of the Five Flags. We drove to the port of Pensacola to where the shrimp boats dock. We walked the boardwalks and looked at the old shrimp boats and talked to the owners. One owner was knocking the rust from the metal parts with a hammer. Some of those boats were so old they looked like they would hardly float, but each day they went out and brought in the fish for the adjoining fish markets.

We visited all the markets and found that market was so busy you had to take a number. There must have been 200 people in there buying fish. The next day, when we left for home we went to Joe Patti’s Market with our cooler and filled it with shrimp and ice. We had a feast when we got to our son Pat’s home in Minneapolis, KS. Every chance I had I ate shrimp.

We ate breakfast at Pegg Leg Pete’s Oyster Bar, where you could set outside or inside, or on the sand in the under bar. There were numerous other places to choose from, but I say, “when you find a good place, why change.”

The wind coming off the gulf was cold so a person didn’t want to tarry long outside when we returned from eating in the evening.

On the two evenings that we ate at Pegg Leg Pete’s, we went with our new friends we had made, who lived next door. Elka and Everhard Peppel were visiting the United States from Germany.

Next week I will tell you about all we learned from these interesting people. Elka asked us to eat with them and insisted we walk to the restaurant. I thought it was just a few blocks but it was about two miles. After all we had eaten the walk back to the motel was needed and felt good.

Pensacola Beach is a place to relax, lie in the sun and feed your favorite sea gull. It was hard to leave that exotic land but we had been gone far too long and it was time to go home. I found it took the two-day trip home to get the sound of the white foam waves out of my head.

From this story book land I brought home shrimp, sand and shells, and the only thing I couldn’t bring was the aqua blue water and its continual free rolling sound.

Write me a verse, my old machine-I lack for an inspiration:

The skies are blue and the trees are green, and I long for a long vacation. Edwin Robinson

Rena Donovan, For Another Day.

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