Remembering Panama City Beach

Back in April of 1975 my father Nelson, mother Mary, and I (along with our beagle Irma) drove from Chicago to Stuart, Florida, where my Uncle Bill (my mother's brother) and Aunt Elsie had recently retired. My father had just retired from his dental practice (a career he despised), and he and my mother wanted to see if they might want to retire there, too. We drove south to Biloxi, and then around the Gulf of Mexico to Stuart, on the east coast of Florida.  On the third night of the trip, we stayed at a motel in Panama City Beach, Florida, right on the gulf, where I took the photograph on the left.

I always remember this spot because it was the first, and possibly only, place where I could hear the waves hitting the beach as I fell asleep. How great is that? We were practically the only guests there, since Panama City, back then at least, was a summer resort nicknamed the "Redneck Riviera," and it was actually kind of cold when we stayed there. Since that time, the place has been hit by a number of hurricanes, and after rebuilding, has grown in size quite a bit. It has also become a very popular spring break destination. Does this mean it is now warmer there during the spring? If so, is this one of the few positive effects of climate change, or a big negative, what with the college crowd? By the way, the photo on the right is of my father walking Irma along that beautiful white sand beach. And yes, they moved to Stuart the very next year.