The first time I left for Florida was on a January morning in 1952 when I was six years old. My grandparents Invited me to drive south with them in their new hunter green  Cadillac, the early ‘SOs bulbous version with pokey little fins. They spent half the year up  North, next door to us on Bernice Road in Lansing, and the other half down inBradenton near Anna Maria Island. Out of the dozen or so grand children, It was my turn that year to go with them to Florida.

That morning, dressed up in a new, maroon coat with a fur collar, direct from Uttle Bramson’s in Chicago, …

~Red Rock Review, Spring, 2016