OLD FLORIDA IS tan bare feet. Turquoise waters. Pink motels. On cool evenings, it’s sweet tea on the porch of a rusty-roofed cabin. The smell of citrus blossoms. Banjos, harmonicas and fiddles. On a lazy Sunday, it’s quiet country roads with tunnel-like canopies of centuries-old live oaks. Mom and Pop gift shops. Roadside produce stands with sweet corn and watermelon. Old Florida is manatees. Crystal clear springs. Rope swings. An aluminum boat. Night crawlers. Mostly, Old Florida is home.
Commandant’s quarters, Pensacola Navy Yard