Before and after Septembers

Once upon a time when modern Marco was new, there was one of everything. But just one. There was one gas station and that was where Gary worked. When you needed gasoline, you went to see Gary. When the car needed work, you went to Gary at the gas station garage. Gary was wonderful. He could fix anything.

When shopping for groceries there was only one supermarket. Winn Dixie. The local drug store was Island Drugs and that was where Larry worked. A small hardware store was next door, and around the corner was Patricelli’s Pizza and Italian. That was where Dave worked. There was no other pizza on the island, except for Mancuso’s Deli in old Marco, which offered pizza only on Friday afternoon and evenings.

All over the island, it was the same. There was one of everything. But just one. There was one Snook Inn where Delmar worked. One O’Shea’s waterfront dinning where Tom and John worked with all the other Shea’s, and one Marco Beach Hotel and Villas where the Marco Beach Boys and Girls worked with all of the other hotel staff.

For tavern and leisure cocktail time, there was only one bar not housed within a restaurant and this was The Islander. Next door to The Islander was the only liquor store. And most of the time, there was only one police officer from the Collier County Sheriff’s Office, probably because there was only one red light at the crossroads of Collier and Bald Eagle.

Apart from having only one of everything in commerce, a very young but growing, modern Marco had only three social groups. Not one, but three very distinctive social groups that did not blend well with each other. In fact, the three social groups tried to avoid one another at all costs. Remember, Marco at the time was a newly settled and a modern Wild West: we were an island that was young and going through growing pains.

The first group of islanders were the retirees that bought on Marco to live the Deltona dream. These were the older folks that gathered on the only golf course and country club, and they absolutely did not want to socialize with the other two classes that also called the developing and growing island home.

The first of the two other groups of like-minded individuals were the rough and tumble construction crews that were building The Deltona corporation’s modern Marco. These were the hardworking folks that battled the relentless clouds of mosquitos and the sweltering heat with heavy equipment and a tenacious attitude toward the tropics. The construction crews wanted nothing to do with the older folks for whom they indirectly worked. The building crews might have even resented the retirees, but the construction cowboys that built our island definitely did not like - in any form or fashion - the third group of individuals that were the hotel staff at the Marco Beach Hotel.

After working only a week on Marco Beach and officially becoming one of the Marco Beach Boys, it was announced that after work, a group of hotel staff was going down to The Islander Bar.

When Beach Boys arrived after work and entered the dark Islander Bar, we were at once taken aback by the slow turning of heads from a crowd of construction crew bellied up to the only bar. The bar was full and “L” shaped, but along a strand of darkened windows were tables and chairs that were mostly empty. Along the bar however, every seat was taken with a burly construction worker dressed in the rough and tumble garb that enabled a hot and tropical island to be developed.

As the Beach Boys and a few Girls walked through the door from the late afternoon brightness and into the cool air-conditioning and dim neon lighting, we at once noticed a pecking order established by the construction crew. The most rough and tumble and dangerous of the alpha males were seated at the bar closest to the door. These construction cowboys-with-an-attitude were followed by the older males who were no longer the apex predators. After the seasoned and wise builders of roughneck tradition came the young - but trying to be tough and loyal - emulators of the leaders of the pack.

Meanwhile, here strolls the Marco Beach Boys with clean white uniforms looking like we just stepped off a tennis court in Wimbledon. The burly heads slowly turned to meet our arrival and the heavily lidded eyes began to scrutinize our every fiber. Our supervisor, and the most experienced islander we knew quietly whispered, “Don’t look at those guys,” The urgent whispering warned, “Do not make eye contact. If you look those guys in the eye, they will start a fight. It happens almost every Friday night!”

Apparently, the whispered warning came fast enough, and we all entered and filed past with heads down as if we were searching for our feet in the near darkness of the neon lighting. We quickly found seats at the tables on the far side of The Islander, ordered beer from a server with darting eyes, and waited to see what would happen next.

After only a few minutes, two big and strapping brothers from Boston, who were wearing their Bellman uniforms from the Marco Beach Hotel, dared to crack the door, and allowed daylight to spill into the suddenly hushed environment.

When the Boston Bellman entered the bar, it was obvious they were no strangers to baited confrontation. After the bellmen were followed in by several other staffers from the hotel, and the Boston boys made eye contact with the construction cowboys, the fists started flying, bar stools tumbled backward, and everyone was on their feet in a barroom fistfight that would make any Hollywood director of wild westerns proud.

After the brawl, The Islander was a mess of toppled barstools, tables and chairs, broken glass, smashed noses, and torn clothing. When the only Sheriff’s deputy appeared in the only cop cruiser around, the fight was over, but everyone, from every social category - especially the retirees who knew better than to be at The Islander on a Friday - knew very well we all needed much more than only one bar…and that bar was coming soon.

Tom Williams is a Marco Islander. He is the author of two books: “Lost and Found” and “Surrounded by Thunder - the Story of Darrell Loan and the Rocket Men.” Both books are available on Kindle and Nook.