02/22/2023
This is pretty cool.
My pal, Richard Moseley, has a way with the written word. His book, "A Snitched Melon," is a well written introspective about growing up in the magic-world of old Panama City Beach back in the 1950s. I found it hard to put down.
https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100068328429583
This is the latest excerpt—
Panama City Beach, Florida, was a pre-Disney-World wonderland. My siblings and I were some of the lucky few reared in the heart of Panama City Beach. After becoming an adult, I finally understood that our beach was an extraordinary place during an incredibly unique time. It was a time that was much more polite and innocent and a time of family values and vacations. Our beach was exciting and fun, and our time there was wholesome. Families living in the southeast all wanted to vacation here. So they came...in droves.
There are no words to portray the excitement and energy, the hustle and bustle, or the sights, sounds, and smells of our tourist season. The local beach folk bottled and sold happiness, and my, oh my, did it ever sell! Hand over fist, by the buckets and truckloads, money was damn near everywhere. Innkeepers and entrepreneurs of every description were all grabbing for their fair share.
There were giant swings, slides, cabanas, seesaws, merry-go-rounds, and trampoline courts. Casino walks offered games of skill and chance, and assorted food vendors provided tasty treats. There were hand-dipped corn dogs, sizzling hamburgers, and the world-famous "foot-long chili dog."
I easily recall the mouth-watering fragrances of freshly toasted sugar, the unmistakable bouquet of newly spun cotton candy, blood-red candied apples, and just-pulled saltwater taffy. Delightful fragrances that would magically intertwine, mingle, and change into some brand-new mysterious aroma. A captivating fragrance that quickly became a sort of Pied Piper’s scent, whose casual advance on soft summer breezes turned out to be a kind of fragrance militia or aroma patrol. Not unlike stealthy warriors banzai charging every nearby olfactory gland.
The entire scene, the whole ball of wax, was somehow entangled. It was delightfully blended, mixed, kneaded, and baked into an odd sort of happiness generator. It became a magical fountain that offered unending fun, pleasure, and excitement.
Organ music played loudly, with crowds of fun-seeking tourists happily spending their way through it. The J.E. Churchwell family built, developed, and offered up Long Beach Resort, Florida. This beautiful snow-white Florida panhandle beach, this incredible place, was nothing short of magical. Anyone who experienced PCB during that era, I’m sure, will agree with me.