SIDEWALK STORY 2

Buck allowed his heart to navigate his path home and as he stepped along the sidewalk toward his destination, he passed houses that sheltered the men and women who tried to preserve the Union as well as the houses of the men and women who fought to shatter it. Over 50 of these antebellum structures still stand in Old Town Tustenuggee beside every sidewalk that Buck traveled, each one a testament to the toil of the enslaved men who produced the wood and bricks from which they are constructed and who provided the labor that erected each one. Over the years, some of these old mansions have been broken up into apartments and as Buck passed one of these ancient buildings where he'd lived as a college student when he was going to Wekiwa State, he studied the Greek Revival exterior of the old building and contemplated his first lessons in love and romance which he learned back in 1969 in an upstairs bedroom of that old columned mansion.

"I have every reason in the world to simply find joy in existence," Buck reasoned, "but that crying fit at Jake's house over Grandma showing up on a Youtube clip let me know tonight I've got something hidden inside that's bothering me and I don't even know what it is. Everybody has bad experiences. Maybe I keep dwelling on what was so good about them and forgetting about what was so bad. Anyway, before I pair up again, I need to work on my own life."

Buck pulled a small flask out of his pocket and took a sip of his tonic. There was nothing herbal or medicinal about Buck's tonic. It was simply a few pieces of cinnamon, lemon and wintergreen candy dissolved in cheap vodka but a single sip helped Buck maintain a proper buzz as he spent another evening exploring old Tustenuggee's sidewalks.

"It kind of feels like now is the time to walk down to the bar & check on the incoming coeds from the Wekiwa State Class of 2030 who hit town this week ready to test out their fake IDs and are arriving on the Strip right about now." Buck mused,"I bet there's some gals down there with play pretties so nice they'll bust the top off my eye candy gauge! Hey, let's celebrate the greatest of all time terrific T-town Tuesday, 'till Tuesday's gone! Like Grandma always said, 'Don't take things so seriously, Buck. It'll happen when it needs to happen. Be happy with what you got and work hard to make things better.'

"Maybe I might learn some things about myself on my little hike tonight and these days my old age has been telling me I've been hanging out in the bars long enough. After tonight's catharsis, maybe I don't need the pandemonium of a Tuskenuggee barroom. Maybe now is the time to seek the sanctuary of  the serene Wekiwahatchee riverbank and its right down the street"

Buck's thoughts of the river reminded him of a little poem he wrote almost thirty years ago.

"Standing on an old street corner laid out in 1823,

Shaded by tall water oaks all around.

That's why I love T-town.

Sitting on a sandy bank with my feet in a lazy river

Watching the sun go down.

That's why I love T-town."

Buck asked himself, "Why would I want to live anywhere else?"

Buck expressed his appreciation out loud, "Crepe myrtles in the summertime and camellias in the wintertime courtesy of those wonderful old women decades ago who dedicated their lives to this town's neighborhood garden clubs. Old ladies, your long ago effort along these sidewalks was not in vain! Your lives continue to amaze and satisfy this aging son of the Southland."

Buck stopped and stood on the corner of East Margin Street and Adams Avenue slowly turning himself around while concentrating upon everything within his field of vision. He counted fourteen beautifully shaped crepe myrtles, each one so covered in pink or red blossoms that almost none of the green foliage underneath was visible. Looking down, the streetlight now revealed the sidewalk below Jake's feet covered with the coral red blossoms from Tustenuggee's splendid crepe myrtle trees and this vision produced a flicker of wonder which captured Buck's vivid imagination and the exquisite beauty of his floral landscaped seemed to transport him to time when East Margin Street had no pavement and modern marvels didn't exist.