Dear Ernest,
I thought of you the other day as I drove down Whitehead Street and nearly ran over a family of tourists. They had stepped out from between the parked cars to take pictures of your house. Your brick wall is still there. I always like to speculate about the wall. Was it to keep the tourists out as you worked? Now it keeps them in. It also keeps in the cats. I bet you would never have thought they would name a type of cat after you, but it wasn’t the African lion. Too bad. By the way, no one lives in your old house anymore. It is a tourist attraction. Remember when you wrote in “To Have and Have Not” that they were going to starve out the Conchs to make room for tourists? Turns out you didn’t have to worry about the Conchs. They ended up being a lot smarter than you thought. Continue reading »