When Susan and Lu boarded the jet, Susan chatted incessantly. Lu realized Zach’s suggestion to take her along was a good one, and she was glad she’d reconsidered. She even suggested the two of them make a stop at Eatonville, which appeared to be just a short drive from the Orlando airport.
Once they picked up the rental car, they quickly hit the highway. Lu found herself actually looking forward to the visit to Eatonville, the home of Susan’s hero, Zora Neale Hurston. They had driven only a few blocks off the interstate when it became obvious they were lost.
Susan studied the printout in her hand. “Well, that’s what it says,” she explained, “but sometimes these computer mapping programs can be off a little. Let’s turn around and go back down that other street.”
“Okay,” Lu said, trying to keep her tension at bay. “But the exit said ‘Historic Eatonville’. I don’t know. It doesn’t make sense. This isn’t a town, it’s like a neighborhood. Isn’t Eatonville supposed to be a town? We went down the same street twice and turned around once already.” Lu spotted a white city truck parked on a side street. The workman was trimming the tall grass near a ditch. She pulled the car over and asked if he knew where Eatonville was. Sure enough, it was back down the same street, only a couple of blocks, but in the opposite direction.
Yes, he told them, the Zora Hurston Museum was there too.
Susan was delighted. “Oh, good. I was getting nervous.”
Again, they drove too far and had to turn around, but they were in much better spirits.
“It really doesn’t look like Eatonville is much of a town any more, does it?”
“No, it looks like the same thing that’s happening in Bunnell has already happened here. I guess it used to be a town, but it looks like the newer communities around it developed so quickly that it got left behind,” Lu commented. “After all, it can’t compete with the golf courses and condos. That’s what happens in Florida, a LOT. Originally, towns grew up around the farms and roads. But then the newer towns squeezed them out. There’re road signs all over Florida in the middle of nowhere that give the name of a town, and then you find out that it only used to be a town. Now, there’s nothing there but a gas station convenience store.”
Lu parked the car in front of the museum, a small cinderblock building, and they went inside. They were welcomed by a volunteer who gave them information about Zora and the annual Zora Festival of the Arts. They looked over an exhibit of handmade antique African textiles, and Susan bought one of Zora’s books that she hadn’t read in high school.
“Mom,” she said, opening the pamphlet of the Eatonville walking tour. “Can we just go down the street and stop at this St. Lawrence church?”
“Honey,” Lu protested.
“No, look,” she urged, holding out the pamphlet. “It says here ‘stop number four’ is one of the oldest African-American churches around Orlando. There are one-of-a-kind paintings in there from 1936. It’s right down the street. Can we just go see the murals? I promise I’ll be really quick.”
“Okay, okay,” Lu said. “But that means we won’t have time to go over to the old cemetery to see where Zora is buried.”
“Zora’s not buried there, Mom!” Susan exclaimed, opening her car door. “Zora’s buried over on the other side of Florida somewhere. I remember that from when I researched my paper.”
Lu put the car in gear and drove the three blocks to the church where she pulled into the small parking lot. “It’s probably closed,” she said.
“Well, maybe, but let me go ask that lady who’s just going to her car.” Susan was out of the car and approaching the woman before Lu could stop her.
Lu parked the car and walked toward Susan who was already engaged in excited conversation with the woman.
“Mom,” Susan said. “This is Sister Shauna. She’s going to let us in to see the paintings!”
Lu shook her hand and introduced herself while attempting to apologize for troubling her.
“Oh, it’s no trouble,” she said. “No trouble at all.”
Lu was quiet as she drove I-4 toward the coast. It was beginning to trouble her that the development of Florida had obviously escalated rapidly since she left for college.
“Mom, what you were saying before about towns not being there anymore. Why wouldn’t they still be towns?” asked Susan.
“I was just thinking about that, actually,” Lu said. “And, I’m not sure why that happens. One thing is, like I was telling your dad, the development of Florida is very new.
“Here,” Lu said. “I’m going to take the next exit, and we’ll shortcut over through DeLand. I bet that’s not changed much since I was a kid.”
“Are you sure you know where we’re going?” Susan said, pulling out the Mapquest printout.
“Hey, girlfriend,” Lu said. “Remember, I grew up around here!”
After a few miles Lu sighed. “This road is slower than I remembered. I’m getting worried about being late for our meeting with Dwight.”
They were stopped at a stoplight in front of a large stone building. “Mom, that’s Stetson University?” Susan asked.
“Yeah, that’s where my father wanted me to go.” Lu twinged inside remembering the argument they had. He accused her of not even bothering with DeLand, or any Florida schools. And he was right. She was so desperate to get up north that she refused to apply to any school south of the Mason-Dixon line. “When I did leave for college, I left on the train right out of here, though. The train didn’t stop in Bunnell for passengers unless you had a ticket in advance. I could’ve done that, I suppose, but for whatever reason, I didn’t. So, my father brought me over here, and I left.”
“You went all the way to Philly on the train?” Susan asked. “All by yourself?”
“Sure did,” Lu answered. “My father drove me over in the truck. I remember it was sweltering hot but pouring rain so we couldn’t open the windows of the truck without getting soaked. We didn’t have air conditioning, of course, so it was almost unbearable when it rained. If it hadn’t been raining, we could’ve put all my stuff in the back of the pickup, but instead it took up the whole back cab. Miss Pearl was going to come with us, but with the rain and all, there wasn’t any room. It still makes me sad to think of her not being able to come.”
“Weren’t you scared?” Susan asked.
“Sure,” Lu said. “But I guess I was more scared of not going than I was of going.” Leaving home wasn’t really something Lu wanted to go on discussing, so she went back to their earlier conversation.
“To get back to what we were talking about with Florida towns disappearing, over near Bunnell there used to be the town of Neoga, and other towns. Well, settlements probably. Espanola, Korona, and so on, but when the new highways were built, or when the railroad came in, people probably just settled closer to the railroad. Except what we saw over around Orlando is different somehow.”
“Yeah,” Susan commented. “It seems almost like the history of Florida and the people of Florida don’t matter. All that matters is the newest theme park or the biggest golf course. That I don’t understand. I mean, in Maryland, every community has some kind of historic site, some sign that says ‘on this spot’, and people seem to have respect for that. I did see signs in Eatonville pointing out a Black Heritage Trail, but mostly, I haven’t noticed a lot of other historical signs,” Susan said. “It doesn’t seem right somehow.”
“No, Susan, it doesn’t,” Lu agreed.