The Breakers Hotel on Palm Beach, a place I never stayed. Photo by Nick22aku at English Wikipedia, CC BY 2.5, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=6426605 The other night I dreamed I couldn’t get oriented, which isn’t out of the realm of possibility, even though I’ve lived in this valley for most of my life. This morning I saw a photograph of a datura blooming, and it took me right back to the years I lived in West Palm Beach. That city, whatever its failings, had the sense to name its downtown streets in alphabetical order, using the names of flowers, for a long stretch. As a writer, I thought it was so much more pleasant than numbering them, though they did begin numbered streets after Clematis, the street the public library was on. Datura followed, with Evernia, Fern, and Gardenia behind. Many of the flowers, including the datura, were not familiar to me. Having the ocean nearby also helped as I oriented myself to my new life far from Ohio. (I still drive by kinetic memory in Akron; I have not much sense of where I am, big picture.) In West Palm, I had only three directions to worry about. If I went east, I’d land at the intracoastal and then the Atlantic Ocean. “Walk east,” was a favored insult in that region. I could get almost anywhere in West Palm without too much trouble, although if someone asked me whether Delray Beach was north or south of home, I had no idea. (I’ve consulted a map; it's south.) I just knew what ramp to take, or which way to turn on U.S. Highway 1. Lake Park, where faculty friends lived, required a left turn. Downtown, and the three bridges to Palm Beach, was a right turn. General confusion results from the lack of creativity in naming the towns. There’s the overarching “the Palm Beaches,” and Palm Beach itself, the home of the ultra-rich. One of the over-the-top places to drive past was the Breakers Hotel, where Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald stayed and played in the Roaring Twenties. There’s North Palm Beach and West Palm Beach and Palm Beach Gardens. There's a town north of the county named Palm Bay. I will admit that palms, whether Royal or Poinciana varieties, are impressive and lovely. But a bit of variety would be appreciated.
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Baptist GirlI was a conservative Baptist girl who grew up to become a career Christian, working first in a Baptist school and then in a Baptist college. For about three decades, it was very good until it wasn’t, and I had to leave. But the Baptists formed me. This is my homage to the good times and good people of the world I left, finally, at forty-three, when I became an Episcopalian. These are my memories; others might disagree with my recollections. So be it. Archives
January 2024
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