Howdy Folks,
I had a perfectly idyllic Mother's Day weekend starting with 3pm Friday.
My brother Mike finally fulfilled his yearly promise to visit. I met him in the street downtown Franklin as he rolled in on his Harley.
It's been at least 13 years since I've seen him. He looks great.
He's a retired painter - mostly exterior's w/scaffolding & ropes, etc. - a lot like urban mountain climbing - and just as dangerous.
He painted the same strip of buildings on Florida's "Treasure Coast" several times in his career.
These offices & condos were all in line of sight for the cape Kennedy/Canaveral space vehicle launches and he saw many from
the unique rooftop vantage point. Cool job huh?
This was kind of an extension from when we were kids living in the brand new, just reclaimed from a swamp,
Sherwood Park - a "Mackle Development", barely north of Eau Gallie, Fla (a sweet little French named town,
which has since been incorporated and swallowed up by Melbourne.)
The (in)famous Mackle Brothers bought swamps near burgeoning areas in Florida's postwar land rush,
drained* them and built communities of same sized (a little difference for society's sake) cinder block homes.
*You can't really "drain" an east coast Florida swamp - there's no place to put the water where
it won't seep back. So they dredged up piles of sand out of the water to let them dry and dug
the swamp bottoms out a bit more to hold the drained stuff a little better.
I remember passing by the wet half of the subdivision on my right going to the school bus stop in the mornings.
The water became
deep and green really close to the shore and there were all kinds of swampy things going on. Alligators
"gronking" (vocal gator noise) in the not so far distance, big turtles sunning on the steep sandy dredge shore,
one time - a jillion tiny toads hopping in all directions. Big fun for a kid.
The Mackle-block homes sold like crazy as Central East coast Florida's population fattened with the space industry. Our civil service dad was involved in the construction of the VAB (Vehicle Assembly Building) on Merritt Island. A building so big - it had its own weather! yowp!
We lived in one of those cinder block homes in Sherwood Park across the Indian River from Merritt Island on the East.
The rocket men were always doing "tests". They used to give a warning on the local radio stations not to call in with
earthquake reports as they were testing engines that week, yadda yadda.
Often, while playing "quietly" with army men or rubber dinosaurs, Mike & I would hear the dishes rattling in the kitchen
cupboard, look at each other with recognition of the upcoming event and tear out the front, sometimes jamming in the door
as both try to pass through at the same moment.
We'd get almost to the road from the front of the house and look at a spot we knew about between the eastern trees.
That spot would begin to glow, and then light up, and then we'd see the actual exhaust flames as the test "vehicle" rose into the clouds.
It would make a weirdly slow climb, lighting the local cloud banks on the way up like a huge handheld
flashlight that cast a glowing ball of detail as it rose - better than the movies - into the sky.
Occasionally, the flaming spectacle would veer obviously off course and then - the absolute ultimate boy joy - they blew it up!
Exploded by a throwing a destructo switch on a console back at mission control.
The safety of the locals had to be considered so each test mission was equipped with a self-destruct
mechanism. (See? They didn't make that up just for Captain Kirk.)
The boom was bigger & better than any fireworks currently on that side of the world and maybe the whole planet - wowsers! No better place on Earth for little boys 10 & 11 years old.
You may have read this before - I'm almost sure I've written this memory.
With your indulgence.
Once, upon a time - a relatively long time ago - the cupboard dishes shook, the little boys ran out, the glowing trees parted and a long
skinny rocket rose into the still bright evening sky.
We watched with space-age delight especially since it was relatively
early in the evening and we could see more detail than the flame.
You could see the whole long cylinder and big red lettering sideways up the side of the rocket but not quite read it.
We both thought this one might make it out of sight - it was going well.
Then the sight became confusing. The long skinny rocket became short & fat, then long & skinny again, then short & fat - again.
Brother Mike and I both "got" the physics of the situation at the same time - this rocket was not only out of control - it
was tumbling end over end STRAIGHT AT US!!
Holy Crap!! Was it terror or wonder or both simultaneously? That moment froze in me an impression still
very easy to recall - a unique emotional instant with more than an encyclopedia's worth of information wordlessly condensed into a bouillon cube flash of recognition (was that the pre-demise event for an 11 year old?)
The fear passed - we were sub-teen pros - rocket test launch veterans. We knew & trusted the invisible scientists across the river. We faced & grabbed each other by the arms, jumping up and down with Christmas quality pre-adolescent glee. "They're gonna blow it up. they're gonna blow it up!"
And just then WHAP! (as a cautious surviving adult looking back on the incident, it was way too close for comfort - but we didn't care then). A brilliant white flame did a "Kodak moment" on the ambient surroundings, lighting up the Florida evening like high noon for a moment.
Immediately after came - BA-BLOOIE!! The mother of all fireworks explosions forced us to our little butts in the St. Augustine grass. Woof!
Great memory. This weekend, we fondly recalled that one and many others with a bit of brew and a lot of laughs. It's great to see & be with my only brother.
Nice too, that he made it here by Mother's Day.
We had a dear celebratory service at Wayfarer's and I was very pleased to be able show Mike the absolutely beautiful setting the Chapel occupies. Excellent vibes - beautiful day.
We, here in Franklin, just finished our "Blackberry Winter" - right on time with the blossoms - and the push back of warm sunny conditions made Sunday the perfect combination of cool breeze & warm sun - truly balmy!
We have 2 post thaw events up here. Once the bad cold winter is over and we begin to get waves of warmth, there is apparently an annual predictable snap or two of chill. The first coincides with the Dogwoods blooming (Dogwood Winter) and the second with the Blackberry flowers.
It is supposed to be "warm" now until Fall.
We'll see, it is the Mountains and we do get surprises.
Mike rode his motorcycle up from Gainsville, FL for the visit. Right through the Blackberry Winter headwinds. He said it was a tough ride.
He's paid some dues up front for the visit so likely it will have a happy result. The Casses boys tend to pay their dues in advance. Could be worse.
Today, while I'm at work, He's heading off to visit Tallulah Gorge like a real tourist. The Gorge is quite a spectacular vista and if you lean over the edge a bit (scares me) you can see the rusty ring clamps the Wallenda’s installed for the walks across.
A little GA History & Wikki link
"Since the early 19th century, Tallulah Gorge and its waterfalls have been a tourist attraction. In 1882, Tallulah Falls Railway was built; increasing the accessibility of the area to tourists from Atlanta and south Georgia, and the gorge became North Georgia's first tourist attraction.
Resort hotels and bars sprang up to serve the tourist trade, which, after the addition of the railway, swelled to as many as 2,000 people on Sunday alone.
In 1883, tightrope walker Professor Bachman crossed the gorge as part of a publicity stunt for one hotel. On July 18, 1970, Karl Wallenda became the second man to walk across the gorge on a tightrope."
Tallulah Gorge (link)
The Band is going to play R&R this weekend. I think Mike will stay for the events and maybe even consider moving up here.
It's great to have my brother around.
More later.
Oh Wait! I had a cool rainbow right in my back yard!
Big Love to All
