GULF COAST ADVENTURE May 3, 2024

Two weeks ago, I wrote in “Do I Live in America?” that California was a legitimate part of the United States. Last weekend, Carolyn and I saw that Texas and Florida are just as real—if uniquely so.

Thursday, we flew to Houston to see Carolyn’s distant cousin, Dr. Robert Power. Bush Intercontinental Airport is as large (or larger) than SFO and certainly as busy. As at SFO, construction remains ongoing to update terminals.

We stayed at a bed and breakfast in Midtown, La Maison. Like San Francisco’s South of Market, Midtown has evolved with new apartment and condo developments. The streets, alas, are more tree-lined. Also as in San Francisco, African-American women can create and sustain a business. Our hostesses, Genora and Sharon, were wonderful.

Re Robert, an anesthesiologist two decades younger, Carolyn had never met him. But she’s communicated with him regarding her uncle, Leonard Power, her dad’s older brother. Leonard died at Corregidor during World War Two. His remains have yet to be identified for repatriation. A while back, Robert volunteered a DNA sample to seek a match.

We had dinner with Robert and his very bright six-year-old son Preston at the Pit Room in the nearby Museum District. Who doesn’t love great barbecue? Robert shared much genealogical research with Carolyn.

Friday, we flew to Pensacola to visit our son, Seth. We stayed in an Airbnb townhome minutes from his apartment and perfect for a late Passover seder. (Disclosure: At a Publix supermarket, we asked where the Passover section was. Employee response: “What’s Passover?”). Our seder covered the highlights and prompted great conversation.

Seth then showed us sections of the Gulf Coast, many we’d never seen. Saturday, we headed west through Florabama (the region’s name) to Gulf Shores, Alabama. High-rises tower mile after mile along the beach. The Gulf is warmer than San Francisco’s Pacific Ocean. In Gulf State Park, we strolled wooden boardwalks (above lurking alligators) then lunched at the Woodside restaurant. I enjoyed the Greek Salad with salmon. I also eat that in SF.

Seth then took us to Buc-ee’s, one of America’s distinctive roadside stops. Buc-ee’s looks like a Walmart. This one offered nearly 200 fuel pumps, a humongous selection of snacks and meals (including barbecue) and a massive variety of tchotchkes. Buc-ee’s beaver mascot posed with visitors and could have worked any sports event. 

Oh, I took home a nasty cold. From Buc-ee’s? Can’t say.

An aside: Waffle House is everywhere.

Sunday, we headed east along Florida’s Panhandle through Fort Walton Beach and Destin to Alys Beach. The town offers large, upscale and very private condo communities. No taking photos! Virtually everything is white—buildings, vehicles and people (except restaurant workers). We lunched on the porch of George’s, temperature 80, sky blue. We could have been—kind of—in the San Diego area.

Going home, we stopped at Navarre Beach. It boasts the nation’s 15th longest pier. It’s not the flashy Santa Monica Pier but draws lots of strollers and fishermen. As sometimes in San Francisco, pelicans cruised overhead.

Monday, American Airlines canceled our flight out of Pensacola. We stayed another day. Dinner? Sushi!

Americans everywhere love the water, eating, fishing, walking around and, yes, visiting places like Buc-cee’s. Tastes may be regional, even individual, but our humanity remains universal. 

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