Florida Welcomes You - Time Does Not

This may be a longer than normal post.

I went to St. Augustine – as you know – this weekend. On the way to that destination – or any destination that I have to take 19 South to get to – I go by an old welcome station situated at the Florida line. It is old, and neglected, and uncared for. And it breaks my heart.

I want to find who owns it, buy it, and restore it to its former glory. A place to welcome people in with a smile, orange juice, a picnic table, and a bathroom. A place that makes them feel glad that they stopped. But I can’t and it makes me even sadder every time I pass it and see one more vine growing up a wall, one more window broken, and one more piece of history fall apart.

You see, I am old enough to remember when welcome stations like this one were alive. Travelers stopped at these places hoping to get a cool drink (orange juice for FL), stretch their weary bones for a moment, eat a picnic lunch, and/or yes, go to the restroom.

These places were a happy respite from the monotony that sometimes came with traveling.

I know you are thinking, “Big deal – they have those now.” And you are right, giant interstate monstrosities that smell of sweat, old vending machine food, and dirty bathrooms. Sure you can picnic, if you want to sit at dirty tables with trash scattered around them from the previous picnicker who was too lazy to make it to the trash can. Oh, let us not forget the diesel fuel smell from the semis. But Florida still has orange juice. Hooray!?

That picture of a welcome station is a world away from the picture of a welcome station from that long ago time that I keep in my head: and not in a good way.

I miss those welcome stations. What am I talking about? I miss that whole era. 

It was a time when people had manners, everyone was not angry at the world, houses could be painted pink and still be upscale (think “Sandlot”), children could go out and play in the neighborhood without their mom knowing where they were every second because there just weren’t that many maniacs lurking in the bushes hoping for easy prey, we didn’t have to check our Halloween candy for hurtful things before we ate it. Life just felt lighter! Happier. Easier. Less frightening.

So, on this trip, I stopped and took some pictures of this derelict oasis of my past. It reminds me of when there was hope in the world. I realized it reminds me of when I had hope.

Where did it all go?

I took pictures of the picnic tables and the building – or rather a picture of side of the building. 

When I went to take a picture of the front of the building, I could not. All I could see when I looked at the front was my face. Both building and person faltering, cracking, decaying, losing itself in vines – losing itself in the years. 

In my mind I could still see what it had been – what I had been – and now I saw how time had ravaged its warmth, its spirit, its joy. In that, I saw me too, and I had to drive away.

Florida Welcomes you Now....the name has been changed to protect the innocent.