We went to the Sebastian Inlet today which is directly across from the Sebastian River. I took that picture from one of the fishing piers. Can you see the Roseland water tower? I remember when they cut the ribbon across the bridge in 1965. I was a child, of course, and it was a sorrowful day in my own life but a joyous one for the people here.
Almost everything around here is sort of like that. There are memories on every block between this house and Vero Beach. I swear. How could I have so many memories when I only lived here for maybe five years?
I guess they were formative years.
The water at the inlet was gorgeous today. Almost Caribbean-like when the sun was shining.
I remember before there was a bridge at the inlet. I remember when they built a bridge and it was almost done and a hurricane came and swept it all away. I remember the hurricane. I remember when they rebuilt the bridge and opened it up. I remember when there were no piers, just horrible slippery, jagged rocks with barnacles on them that people walked out on to fish, setting their tackle boxes in the cracks between the rocks. I remember when these fish houses were open. I remember when there were no houses here. I remember these cottages. I remember when Aunt Flonnie would stop the school bus right here and open the doors and take a deep breath and say, "I love the smell of the crab house!" I remember when someone was murdered at the fruit stand. I remember there used to be a rocket that lit up at a garage right next to the Tastee Freez. I remember the chocolate dip-top cones we got at the Tastee Freez. I remember Granddaddy getting shrimp to use for bait when he'd take us fishing on his dock. He bought it from Johnny Mays. I remember playing marbles on this road, drawing our circle in the dirt. I remember kids with teeth that were black from decay, skinny as sticks. I remember my mother teaching me the cha-cha-cha in our living room. I remember my brother accidentally breaking her new lamp and her fury. I remember getting cactus-stuck over and over again. I remember falling off my bike over and over again. I remember checking out books at the community center until I read all of them that I was allowed to read. I remember the little boy getting run over by a delivery truck in the back of my school, his head under the tire of it. I remember the wooden bridge over the Indian River on the way to the beach, the tha-thunk, tha-thunk, tha-thunk of it.
And a few incredibly precious people.
How all of that saved me over and over again.
Whatever we see, I will surely be glad.