Florida Caper: Fun In The Sun?

Home away from home...and travelers Eric Walline, Bob Melton, Dale Leslie, John Peterson. Only Peterson has moved away — to Maryland

Florida caper: Fun in the Sun?

This is Dale Leslie's third Neighbors appearance. He has written articles about carpenter Art Reiff and about the recollections of Mark Harris. Leslie operates an office supply store in Ann Arbor, but he sometimes likes to write because "the business world can get pretty routine." 

By Dale Leslie

Every spring a young man’s fancy turns to love - and lovely places like Florida. And nary an April passes that I don’t think about my infamous trip to the “sunshine state” in 1967.

One tumultuous event led to another — from start to finish. Had I portrayed the Biblical, I could have been perfectly cast as Job.

It all began when three of my college-age chums - Bob Melton, John Peterson and Eric Walline - suggested we join the “in” crowd at Ft. Lauderdale. Besides, rumor had it “there were going to be ‘topless’ bathers roaming the beach.” (Age and sex were not divulged, however.)

None of us had ever dared venture south of the Mason-Dixon line. We have the spirit of early explorers but, like Columbus, were a little short on cash.

“WHOSE CAR are we going to take?” I asked.

All eyes turned to me. (That’s what’s called answering a question with a question.)

“We” also decided to pull a camping trailer (to save money, naturally), although no one had any idea where we would park it.

“I object to the whole plan!” I stated emphatically.

As dawn broke one morning the silhouette of my two-door sedan (plus trailer) could be seen on the horizon traveling south along the expressway towards Florida.

With God as my co-pilot (my cohorts mostly slept) I steered us through a massive traffic jam in Cincinnati and the narrow roads of Kentucky. I soon learned firsthand why the folks are so neighborly in the hills: You become very close just passing one another on the highway.

“I’M HUNGRY,” one of my backseat mates exclaimed as we crossed into Georgia. Our sack lunches had disappeared well in advance of noontime.

“Pull off into the next rest area,” he pleaded. “At least I can buy a candy bar."

I seized the chance to dig out some aspirin from my luggage to calm my frazzled nerves. Before slamming the trunk closed I remembered to grab the pills but not my keys.

“You locked your keys in the trunk? How stupid can you be,” my companions barked in unison.

“I appreciate your sympathy,” I said. “But don’t worry, there must be someone around here who knows how to open a locked trunk without the key. ’ ’

There wasn't. Finally it came to us: We would simply tear out the back seat and climb into the trunk from inside the car. Out came the seat (along with part of my upholstery), and I squeezed in and found my keys right where I’d put them - on top of my suitcase.

IT WAS LATE in the evening when we arrived in Ft. Lauderdale and our eyes blinked in rhythm with each “No Vacancy” sign at camp sites.

“We could always sleep on the beach,” one of my partners suggested. 

After hours of searching, we found a spot, unhooked the trailer, and thanks to a spurt of adrenaline, we were ready to take in the town.

Misfortune struck again. Shortly after stepping on the beach, my foot came down on a board with a three-inch nail sticking out of it. Up came the foot, out came the nail and I let loose with a Yankee yell. Simultaneously, my glasses flew off my head and were swept out to sea by the ocean tide. I could feel my wound but I couldn’t see it.

The local hospital gave me a tetanus shot and a bandage to prevent infection, but since I lost my glasses, I had to wear my prescription sun glasses for the remainder of the trip.

NEXT TIME you see someone wearing sun glasses in a movie theater, have pity, won’t you?

Even a one-day hop over to Nassau in the Bahamas proved nearly dismembering. While crossing the island on a rented motorcycle the inevitable happened. Not used to their British traffic patterns, I zigged when I should have zagged and ran into a native aboard his scooter.

"That was a close one,” I remember him saying as he brushed himself off.

I, of course, felt my bumps and bruises were very real.

The next day we left Ft. Lauderdale in pretty much the same condition as when we arrived - hungry, down-trodden and without sleep.

But we all agreed that we had fun and the weather was generally sunny and warm. Just one question: Why did everything under the sun happen to me?