Category: Christmas

Had the treat to trek Palmetto Avenue (Sanford, Florida) from 13th Street through First Street this sunrise (December 4, 2015). Palmetto prettifies rather well.  I know its coming up on the Christmastime Parade of Homes holiday tour of the Historic (often I lapse to reality and say “hysteric”), but in this instance my town pretty much does it right.

The first stunning sight was the two newly renovated and just-painted modest wood framed homes on the East side of Palmetto at the corner of 13th.  The second house, the one with red-brick pillars on its porch, was particularly ravaged over time by abandonment, neglect and sad-to-say apparent vandalism.  It’s a gem now.  The corner home all done up in pristine (is it oyster or cream or some other nuance my eyes and brain decline to define?) white stands out like an un-sore thumb at a convention of lifelong hitchhikers.  Those two homes join the large-yarded abode across the street, whose renovation and resurrection have been a work-in-progress for quite some time. Bravo, all!  A fourth on this block, actually on the corner opposing the two aforementioned newly renovated homes sits catty-corner facing both 13th and Palmetto recently has been renovated itself and sits now on the market. And while I’m at it, kudos for the clever and tasteful Christmas-themed decorations on this 1200 block!  More to come as I amble towndownardly…

As usual for me Palmetto is the true heart of Sanford.  Oh, you can take Oak and Magnolia and, yes, even Park Avenues, and point to perhaps older, larger, more architecturally interesting (a point of contention with me and no doubt some others, not all of whom are Palmettonians) homes and structures.  One, but of a long list of former gas/service stations to make the transition with grace and good taste, even might be nominated as in improvement, if such can be claimed by a commercial insurance venture amidst homes and a park fronting a church. But I prefer the quiet pride exhibited along Palmetto, a name denoting a scrub tree viewed favorably only by Revolutionary War South Carolinian fort-builders and crackers and others of differing melanin persuasions with a taste for “swamp cabbage,” but I digress. Perhaps the only such fall-down is the ongoing effort to restore the former second high school built in town, turned in its dotage to a book depository and then book dump-and-burn site, and now a church.  The former slab concrete parking lot sports a lone basketball standard with a shattered thin backboard.  Could there be a willing benefactor – and perhaps some able hands with appropriate ladders and tools – who might gather a substitute for this forlorn piece of nostalgia?  I know Tommy Vincent might craft a flag-raising photo a la Mt. Suribachi of such an event for The Sanford Herald, for whom his two earlier brothers took pictures as well. Presumably the church would – if not still does – allow neighborhood play at such a venue.

Another of this road’s decidedly modest homes in that surround sports less-showy though tasteful adornment and many of the likewise country-cousin wood frame homes also are spruced and adorned and even those not so noddingly acquainted with the season are charming and muchly appointed with down-home appeal.

Then there is the 400-block: each and every home on its West side sports our National Ensign proudly displayed. And many are the other homes scattered across this “Second Street” of quiet charm and understated pride which also have hoisted Old Glory without the fades or tears or tatters of time that even afflicted for a long while more prominent places of display – say at the  Chamber of Commerce building at First Street and Sanford Avenue*  that for so long was a shame, which Tropical Storm Faye made moot that matter and other more prominently displayed flags like that eventually had the disgrace removed and replaced.  I had mentioned earlier in the week about Palmetto Prettifying itself to a fellow walker from across the street – he on his West sidewalk and I on mine – and he nodded.  I added: “Palmetto takes such quiet pride in its street.” And he replied: “Thanks. We do!”

And, yes, I will mention the always charming home of once-and-I-hope-future mayoral candidate who graciously steps across from his workplace to share with his bride, Past Mayor Linda Kuhn, their home.  Bob and Linda’s front porch recalls a quiet and less ostentatious time, and I find the “garden” sign with its walkway an inviting demand for a picture.  Such is Sanford, and I know – because from East of Mellonville to West of Pecan I have walked – often photographing as I went, the streets and homes of Sanford.

So, this is my love story, Sanford. Enjoy your holidays and all the other days to come and long may we all take quiet pride in our place – and maybe we will see a return to nicer times when litter was not an automotive, pedal-powered or pedestrian sport which in the past decade or so has come upon us again with a renewed vengeance to shame The Grinch.

Adieu.

*(originally, typed Palmetto Avenue, vice Sanford Avenue: a common trick amongst phosphor-typers – factual fall-down syndrome…but in a greater sense it did fit the theme, and if Pat Frank can move The Wekiva confluence with The St. Johns River miles eastward and Cocoa- and Patrick Air Force Base – miles and miles westward to make his Alas Babylon work, why not I?  I indeed!)