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Daddy's Shoes

It seemed so strange. They were slightly scuffed and worn but now lay unmoving and silent. They were placed on the closet floor just the way Daddy had left them, as if they were waiting for him. My heart heavy and searching for peace, I stared at them Daddy's shoes. No one else could ever fill those shoes. No one would ever have an imprint in those shoes like Daddy. He left an imprint in my heart, as well as his shoes.

Daddy had just passed away. My eyes locked on his shoes, the shoes that would never be worn by him again as I let my mind drift

My father was the Depot agent for the Atlantic Coast Line, a southern railway. History tells us that during the 1940s, Citrus was the bread and butter of the community. Tons of citrus were shipped from Palm Harbor, Florida to all parts of the country. The Palm Harbor Citrus Association was active at this time. There were 46 growers in the cooperative, which had been formed in 1924. The "fruit season", as the locals called it was bittersweet. The season was when all the orange growers made their money but it was also hectic. Daddy knew all of the orange growers, as they shipped their fruit through the depot. My two sisters and I would go help Daddy at the depot after school. My mother would work from about 8 am until after dark. I walked to the depot right after school. The first thing Daddy would say to me was, "Are you hungry? Here's some money. Go to the Gas Station (next door) and get yourself something to eat." Usually, I would get crackers or peanuts and a soft drink. Of course the peanuts were really good, if you put them in the drink and let them soak in cola. After that, I would usually stamp pads (shipping labels) at 5 cents a pad. My mother would write out tickets (name, address, etc) for each individual bushel of fruit. Sometimes there would be 200 or more bushels filled with oranges or grapefruit. We worked away, stopping only to greet the growers as they came in to give us an order. The old black pot bellied stove sitting in the middle of the big depot gave just enough heat. This went on from about November till May. Daddy looked so tired but no matter what, was always polite, as he would murmur, "Yes Sir" and " Yes Maam."

Working at the depot was a way for my sisters and I to make money because Daddy would pay us by the hour. When the season was over, we would all go to Tampa for a shopping spree at O'Falks. What fun that would be! Maybe we would get to go the Columbia Restaurant for lunch

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