The summer after I graduated from Presentation Academy, I packed my bags and climbed onto a Greyhound bus destined for Miami, Florida. Erastus, Aunt Gertie, and Uncle Jess were living there and I was welcomed to spend a week in the southern town which Erastus called, “My am uh”. I liked the way he said it.

      Aunt Gertie must have prepared for my visit because a leaflet titled, “Ten Good Reasons Why Women Should Not Smoke” was carefully placed on the kitchen table the morning after my arrival.

     Erastus took me for my first look at the Atlantic Ocean. I will never forget feeling the wind on my forehead and hearing the sound of waves sweeping to the shore. The power of the Atlantic Ocean has stayed with me since then and when I want to feel humble I think of its far horizon.

     After our visit to the ocean, we went to see the movie, “Down To The Sea In Ships”. I knew we would not speak of that movie to Aunt Gertie and Uncle Jess who did not believe in “moving pictures.” I remember that from childhood when they lived on Wampum Street near the Highland Theater where my Father took us on Sundays after dinner at my Grandfather Link’s home.

     After Sunday movies we would make a short visit to their home on the way back to my Grandfather’s house. We never talked to them about how John Wayne and the Flying Tigers were our heroes in black and white “moving pictures”.

     Walking around the Florida neighborhood, I discovered a sign shop and made the acquaintance of a commercial artist who was glad to talk with another artist. My morning walks included a shop visit.

     One afternoon I ventured across town on a bus, given a schedule by Aunt Gertie who only went out when driven by Erastus.

     High school students in Louisville were accustomed to gather at the back of the bus where they could talk about their teenage business. So on boarding the bus, I promptly sauntered to the back of the vehicle where sat a dark-haired girl who looked up at me returning the smile I gave her.

     I settled into my seat and glanced up at a sign that read: ”All Spanish-speaking persons seated to the rear.” Having led a somewhat sheltered life, the sign was my first introduction to racism.

     Erastus was a Distributor for “Jack’s Cookies” and rose early each morning to go about his delivery schedule. He was somewhat a hero by the family seeing as how he struck out as a teenager for the great land in the south when Florida was a swampland only negotiated over rugged dirt roads.

     Not much was known about his marriage and divorce only “she was a social climber and he was not”. When you are a young child and offered that explanation, you pause for a moment, and log it away in your mind as family history with the understanding you are not to ask further questions because the topic is finished.

     Erastus was an only child and a soft-spoken man and it must have pained his parents when he did not return from that southern swampland. After his divorce, he sent for them as they were getting along in years and I believe Erastus had the idea he would keep “Father” down off a ladder. Uncle Jess was a skilled carpenter and rehabbed old houses for a living.

     A year previous to my visit, my mother, father, and sister, Connie made a visit to the Daugherty’s. The highlight of their vacation was a fishing trip and an enthusiastic dinner of ocean catches. My father loved to fish and considered the trip a total success based on that one ocean morning and afternoon.

     Thinking Mr. Kernen’s eldest daughter shared his love of fishing, Erastus announced one evening that we would go fishing the following day. Mr. Kernen’s eldest daughter was not an avid sportsperson and had intended on visiting a sign painter who had that nearby shop, on the following day.

     Erastus explained that their neighbor Mr. Dortmund would make the trip with them but, “Dortmund always loses the fish.” he finished with a grimace.

     I had met Mr. Dortmund who lived across the street. He was a pleasant man with a heavy German accent who reminded me of my mother’s cousins back in Louisville. I placed him in a good slot as soon as I met him.

     So we set off driving down the Keys on our Great Fishing Adventure not in a chartered boat as had my family on a previous trip but in a rowboat. It was not until years later that I recalled we were not carrying any life vests or preservers. We were a trusting lot, not expecting whales or sharks to disturb our Hemingway Holiday.

     Following the example of my fishing buddies, I managed to add my fish to those on a string dangling from the side of the boat. And then it happened. Dortmund lost the string of fish and in the process, I saw Erastus’s fishing hat floating away with the rolling waves. We started over and at least at the end of the day, managed to recoup our losses and return to shore at dusk with tomorrow’s dinner.

     On the return home, Erastus pulled into a parking spot in front of a dining establishment, “We will eat here. They have a good menu.”

     I looked at him quite shocked. “We can’t go in there.” I looked at his coveralls and knew we smelled of fish.

     “We will eat here.” He repeated in his soft southern voice.

     I remembered an occasion when Erastus visited us in Louisville. Planning to eat at the Blue Boar Cafeteria, my mother made him change clothes from his coveralls into a shirt and tie. We were on his home turf now, so I did as directed but no amount of scrubbing hands and arms in the restroom could remove the fish aroma cloud that surrounded me.

     The next morning, I joined Aunt Gertie in cleaning the fish, a chore that had not entered my mind to do. Always considering her as a stern woman, I had never seen her laugh until the moment when she chopped down on a fish while we were kneeling down in the yard. The fish head flew up hitting her in the head and we both laughed.

     Aunt Gertie packed several sandwiches for my bus ride home. I was thankful that she did as the bus broke down at 2 a.m. along the border of Florida and I was able to share with the lady in the seat beside me. I had time to think about my vacation while sitting at the side of the road waiting for repairs to the bus.

     The fishing trip taught me a few lessons that would stay with me in life-changing ways. I learned Erastus was a smart man who would catch the fish and have someone else clean them. And he was a man not afraid to walk his own way whether it was through Florida swamplands or prestigious restaurant. I learned that Uncle Jess had well-earned the title, “Father”. And I learned that Aunt Gertie could laugh when a fish caught her attention.