by Kenda Robertson

Created on: July 02, 2009

Jeppy and I were just kids when we found that old bottle off the Florida Gulf Coast. It was July 1955, and Fort Myers was about as laid back as any place could get. We played on the beaches just outside my Grammy Tilden's house from low to high tide. Back then, the Gulf water was clear and blue, and the sand was as pure as snow. We drew our energy from the warm sun and cool tropical breezes. Jeppy was nine, I was seven. Life was good and being a kid couldn't have been better.

It was a hot day. Grammy sat on the front porch fanning herself with a straw hat and drinking iced tea, while Jeppy and I played on the tire swing. Suddenly the sky turned an ominous gray. Almost a daily occurrence during a Florida summer, but somehow this was eerily different. The dark clouds brought sweeping rains and strong gusty winds. Grammy jumped up as her hat went flying. "You children get yourselves into this house right now!" She shouted over the sound of wind whipping around us. "It's gonna storm! It's gonna storm bad!"

The wind grew fierce. The ocean roared in all its magnitude as Grammy, Jeppy, our dog, Pal, and I crouched close together under the heavy oak table. We didn't have a reliable phone in the beach house back then, and the radio only worked so often, so we didn't know what was going on. Our only choice was to ride out the storm and hope-and pray-it wasn't a hurricane.

We all did a lot of praying that day. And God must have heard us, because after what seemed like hours the wind let up and the downpour turned into a drizzle and then disappeared. Grammy was still shaking like a June bug in September when we crawled out from our sanctuary. "We best see what damage's been done," she said, her aging face weary. Jeppy and I didn't know what to expect, but we weren't prepared for what we were about to see.

Tree limbs and roof shingles littered the big yard. We spent hours cleaning up after the storm. With the help of a few neighbors, we gathered a pile of debris that stood taller than me. It was even taller than Jeppy, who stood a foot higher than me on any given day.

With our chores done, Jeppy and I hurried out to the beach to see what the ocean may have washed up. "You be careful out there!" Grammy shouted behind us. "You never know what you might trip over." Little did she know how true that would be.

We found the beach in sad shape, but that made it even more interesting. Pieces of wood from old ships and fishing boats lay in clumps on the once pristine sand. Lots of appealing

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