I grew up in north Florida where 90 degree doglegs in the two lanes of U.S. Highway 301 in Island Grove slowed southbound travelers for their first view of orange trees.
Sitting opposite each other in the brief pass through the small town was a fruit packing house where laborers filled wooden crates with navel and temple oranges for shipping, and a gift shop where travelers could buy fruit from the packing house, Coca-Cola for a nickel from an ice cold, water-filled cooler, roasted and boiled peanuts, and orange-shaped trinkets manufactured in Japan. [ More ]
Friday September 29th 2006, 12:42 pm |
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