A Million Little Pieces Of My Mind

My new job paid me well enough that, when we were invited to our friends' wedding in Florida, we would all be able to go!—as long as we camped.

Mike and Ann were getting married in Pensacola Beach. Since I had previously gone to the University of West Florida at Pensacola, I was already familiar with the area and knew that we could camp at the beach there.

We arrived just in time to set up camp and get familiar with our surroundings.

The wedding was lovely.

Our friend Dick had flown down from Northern California, and John spent the whole reception attentively watching the drummer of the live band play. At 7, this was the first time he'd encountered live music.

Once the wedding was over, we didn't even change before running to the beach!

We then visited Fort Pickens, which is part of the beach park. Built in the 1830s as part of the coastal defense system, the fort had long since outlived its military role, but the place felt both monumental and eerie—arched casemates opening into shadow, moss and salt air softening the edges of its masonry. The most unforgettable feature was the battery: a long, dark tunnel that seemed to swallow you whole as you stepped inside. With no lights and only the faint glimmer of daylight at either end, it was a spooky passage where echoes lingered and imagination filled the void, a reminder that this fortress was once alive with soldiers, gunpowder, and the tension of defense, now transformed into a haunting relic you could walk through.

We had to drive right back; I hadn't been working long enough at NASD to take a proper vacation. But we had finally been able to make a road trip for pleasure, and to not worry about not being able to pay the rent or electricity when we got back!