Wishful thinking
If you didn't have to worry about making an income and could spend your time doing anything you wanted, what would you do? That question was posed to me by my friend Lori. I immediately responded with what I always say, "Drive around the state of Texas visiting small towns, mingling with the residents, asking them their stories and photographing them or anything else of interest. Then, I would write about them and possibly publish the stories/photos in a magazine." Seriously. I could do this for the rest of my life and never get tired of it.
I actually did do this in the summer of 2002. I went to Port Lavaca, got a room, and drove to what's left of Indianola to see the ruins of this once prosperous coastal town. The song by Charlie Robison, "Indianola," inspired me. I wanted to write a historical fiction love story that takes place in the town. I was serious. I got a room at the Best Western in Port Lavaca, cruised the town to get a sense of it, and ended up in a photographer's gallery on Main St. asking him questions about Indianola and Port Lavaca. He had so many stories to tell of characters in Port Lavaca. One man in particular named Percy Parks really sparked my interest. He was a postcard photographer. During the turn-of-the-century summers, lots of people from San Antonio, Houston, Austin, and all area inland would come to Port Lavaca to swim and hang out on the beach. Percy rode around in his horse/carriage and took pictures of tourists, made them into postcards, and sold them in his studio. I could tell the present day photographer, Dean Johnstone, was captivated by Percy Parks. I think he felt like he was Percy in another time. I spent a lot of time with Dean those couple of days. He introduced me to so many interesting people. I could write a book just on the people I met in Port Lavaca. So much for Indianola.
I was so drawn to Port Lavaca that I returned in the fall of 2003 and hung out some more with Dean, his wife Barbara, and other Main St. proprietors. There was a street dance that weekend, so we drank and I met many native Port Lavacans who told me much more than I wanted to know about their private lives. People do things you can't imagine. Even in a small town. In fact, it's worse in a small town. Believe me, I know b/c I grew up in one. Boredom creates bizarre behavior.
I never finished my story about Percy Parks or Indianola. My daughter interrupted that thought process. I haven't been back to Port Lavaca either. But one day I will. And there are many more towns I want to visit and people I want to meet and write about. I just need to find the time.
I actually did do this in the summer of 2002. I went to Port Lavaca, got a room, and drove to what's left of Indianola to see the ruins of this once prosperous coastal town. The song by Charlie Robison, "Indianola," inspired me. I wanted to write a historical fiction love story that takes place in the town. I was serious. I got a room at the Best Western in Port Lavaca, cruised the town to get a sense of it, and ended up in a photographer's gallery on Main St. asking him questions about Indianola and Port Lavaca. He had so many stories to tell of characters in Port Lavaca. One man in particular named Percy Parks really sparked my interest. He was a postcard photographer. During the turn-of-the-century summers, lots of people from San Antonio, Houston, Austin, and all area inland would come to Port Lavaca to swim and hang out on the beach. Percy rode around in his horse/carriage and took pictures of tourists, made them into postcards, and sold them in his studio. I could tell the present day photographer, Dean Johnstone, was captivated by Percy Parks. I think he felt like he was Percy in another time. I spent a lot of time with Dean those couple of days. He introduced me to so many interesting people. I could write a book just on the people I met in Port Lavaca. So much for Indianola.
I was so drawn to Port Lavaca that I returned in the fall of 2003 and hung out some more with Dean, his wife Barbara, and other Main St. proprietors. There was a street dance that weekend, so we drank and I met many native Port Lavacans who told me much more than I wanted to know about their private lives. People do things you can't imagine. Even in a small town. In fact, it's worse in a small town. Believe me, I know b/c I grew up in one. Boredom creates bizarre behavior.
I never finished my story about Percy Parks or Indianola. My daughter interrupted that thought process. I haven't been back to Port Lavaca either. But one day I will. And there are many more towns I want to visit and people I want to meet and write about. I just need to find the time.
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