Toward Eustis, Florida

In Mystery and Manners Flannery O’Connor wrote, “I think it is safe to say that while the South is hardly Christ-centered, it is most certainly Christ-haunted.” The American South is known as the Bible Belt – the most religious region in the United Sates. It was on a drive through Florida’s panhandle, Georgia, South and North Carolina, and beyond toward the northeast states that I realised how saturated with Christianity this area is. Some areas seemed to have a church of one sect or another at each corner (although the reality is that these churches are mainly of Protestant denominations – particularly Southern Baptist, Methodist, and evangelical). This left an impression on me. Since much of our road trip was destination-focused, and we had set a time limit for our return home, I did not have opportunity to photograph this surprising (to me) phenomenon. Mounted on billboards and church signs Steve and I saw as we drove along, were messages like:

“Jesus, we love you! Signed, Wakulla” (billboard outside Wakulla, FL)

“Even SATAN believes in me. Signed, God” (on the side of a tractor-trailer, GA interstate)

“The first valentine was made of two pieces of wood and three nails” (a church’s signboard, somewhere in GA)

But of course there is more to the American South than religious immoderation. Our trip was a whirlwind, aimed at returning to New England with a few slight diversions. What we chose to experience was the natural world of Florida by hiking through two of the many state and national parks (Ocala and Wakulla). While on the road we passed through towns like Palatka and Micanopy (both in Florida) that recall days past, with unpretentious historic town centres that seem worlds away from their outlying suburban areas. Similarly, in places like Eustis, Florida, there remain vestiges of the mid-20th century that hint at what these places once were; we stayed in a hotel on the town’s outskirts that still has its original neon sign from the 1960s. Athens, GA, has a strong creative community with flourishing music, culinary, and arts scenes.

Until Athens, Georgia, we took back-roads that passed through many small towns where we saw a lot of poverty. Because the Church’s presence is a strong one in the South; the general tenor of the place seemed significantly more conservative than anywhere I have been. What also became clear was evidence of the historical interchange between black and white – palpable from the food, music, religion, and probably a whole lot more that we didn’t experience ourselves. Though all we had was a mere glance at this complex region, we were always on the receiving end of great hospitality and manners.

Nicholson, NC (west of Athens, GA – home of the B-52s and R.E.M. and Pylon)

Wakulla Springs Lodge, Florida

Edward Ball Wakulla Springs State Park, FL

Palatka, Florida

Clewiston, Florida

Eustis, Florida

Between (or: At the Beach with Steve), Deerfield Beach

Tomorrow I head north – homeward bound. Steve and I will meander through the Florida panhandle, the back roads of Alabama and Tennessee, and then we will hoof it to cold and snow-covered Massachusetts. Below are a few photos taken here in Florida over the last several months. My next blog post will be of photos taken during the road trip home.

BBQ King Trailer, Fort Lauderale

Smoking Pork, BBQ King, Fort Lauderdale

Hanging Around, Margate

Coin Op, Margate

Lake Ida Environs

Wind Mill, Deerfield Beach

The Man with the Gold Teeth, Del Ray Beach

Morning Walk

I am still here, ensconced in a gated retirement community in Florida, surrounded by many who are twenty or more years older than me. I watch and interact with my parents (who are in their mid-80s) and others who live here; I have time for reflection. Why is it that we, as a society in North America, neglect the elderly? How is it that we have become so youth obsessed that we dread the slightest wrinkle or another grey hair – each an inevitability? As Ezekiel Emanuel says in his The Atlantic article, Why I Hope to Die at 75, “Americans seem to be obsessed with exercising, doing mental puzzles, consuming various juice and protein concoctions, sticking to strict diets, and popping vitamins and supplements, all in a valiant effort to cheat death and prolong life as long as possible. This has become so pervasive that it now defines a cultural type: what I call the American immortal.”

Aging, of course, is a deeply personal experience and, to some, it is very emotional and even frightening. Why do we see it as a disease to fight rather than a stage of life to embrace? Is there a means for us to tolerate and accept this process – particularly within our own families? Can we learn to offer dignity to those who are “growing old” and also face our own decline with grace?

Most people are unwilling to confront aging and mortality. Many are in denial. Some fear losing their independence, becoming frail and/or a shadow of what they may once have been (mentally or physically). Many of us fear death – which is a certainty and comes to all living things.

In my last blog posting I mentioned my desire to learn the stories of some of the people who live in Century Village to see how they face and cope with this process. How do people deal with illness and the loss of partners, family members, their peers? What allows some of us to age with ease and find purpose in our lives while others cannot? In future postings I will present this project/photo essay, as I work on it.

But not today. Instead, today, more background images to this project (almost all of these photographs were taken during my  morning, 4.25 mile walks).

Swim

Berkshire A

Bicycle Ride

Run

Saturday Walk to Schule

Afternoon Games

At the Pool

According to the 2014 U.S. Census Bureau, “[B]y adding an average of 803 new residents each day between July 1, 2013 and July 1, 2014, Florida passed New York to become the nation’s third most populous state.” This mirrors migration trends coming from Central and Latin America. Although, one could *almost* believe that part of the migration tendency is a result of retirees’ movement to the land of sun, oranges, and the beach.

Over the Rainbow

There are four Century Village “retirement” communities (for people 55 years or older) in South Florida. Built in the 1980s, they are in Boca Raton, Deerfield Beach, Pembroke Pines, and West Palm Beach. The residents at Century Village are extremely homogeneous with a racial makeup of 98.41% White (95.6% Non-Hispanic White and most with English as their mother-tongue) according to the 2000 census. Demographics are clearly changing fourteen years later, though. For instance, there has been an influx of younger Quebecois with a population of over 2000, in Deerfield Beach. Those who live here feel safe. As I take my morning walk around this “village” where my parents are staying, I am surrounded by both vital seniors (some well into their late 80s and early 90s) as well as those who face physical or mental challenges. Many still live with their partners but others confront and struggle with loss and death.

My parents joined their friends in the Century Village, Deerfield Beach, in 2000. They are all over seventy years of age and most are “snowbirds” who are thrilled to get away from northern winters of snow, ice and freezing temperatures. They enjoy the warmth of the sun and go for daily walks around the grounds. There are pools, a community centre (with cultural and art activities and a gym), and opportunities to meet new people. The beach is a ten-minute car ride away. The community has just about everything those living here could want.

At the Volleyball Court

This coming February my mother will turn 86. My dad, who is 85, has had multiple small strokes which have led to a degree of dementia (he also is diabetic, has heart issues, and other ailments that are not unusual for a North American man of his age). My mom is his sole caregiver. At home in Montreal she can walk, take buses, the metro, or taxis to get around and my sister and her partner help her out as much as possible. In Florida, it is more difficult since she does not drive (it’s virtually impossible to get from place to place without a car in Florida). So, I volunteered to join her here for three months, to drive, cook, help clean, and keep my father occupied with walks and scrabble games, which he is still able to enjoy and even win on occasion.

My mother is in good health as are many of her friends. Together, they go to movies, the opera, and out to eat. However, the reality is that because of my father’s decline my parents are left out on occasion and are sometimes lonely as a result. My mother tries to get out with or without my dad. Friends seem to not call or drop by like they used to and I believe the reason for this is the fact that my father is not healthy, cannot hear well, cannot remember well, and cannot carry on a conversation. He is no longer the funny, smart, quick-tongued, articulate, and engaging man he once was. Plainly put, he is old and despite retaining a great sense of humour and good attitude, he can be difficult to be around when he is not silent and in his own world.

My father exhausts and worries my mother for obvious reasons. She has not only him to care for but herself and their household as well. He is dependent on her to give him his medication, take him to doctor appointments, keep his daily routine on track, give him his meals, monitor his extreme between-meal nibblings (one of many symptoms related to the dementia), take him for walks, take care of the bills, etc. None of this is atypical as we get older.

For better or worse, decrepitude is in the cards should we live to a ripe old age. My father’s movement toward infirmity means that during my sojourn in Century Village I must confront the process of aging and deterioration without averting my gaze. My goal, while here, is to get to know some of the residents, photograph them and their surroundings, and explore and tell the story of how they live here, learn about their community, and how they have come to grips with the process of aging and being at the edge of North American society.

The Grounds

The Grounds

Grantham F

The Grounds

At the Pool