Letters from Florida
Jessie Horton
ENGL 1100.46

Different events affect my life everyday, and most of the time I don’t even realize it. But then every once and a while, something major happens that shakes my whole perspective of what should be going on. These events are what make me value the little things in life, like being able to read and write. They force me to think about the what-ifs and the possibilities of what can happen that could change my life forever. But like my mom always says, "Even though we have to go through hardships in life, something good always comes out of it."

I can remember September 11, 2001, as if it were yesterday. I was in the ninth grade in the middle of Spanish class. My teacher was a really funny older man named Mr. Swaringen. He was going over the vocabulary words that we had to define for homework the night before when our principal, Mr. Matthews, came on over the intercom. We all figured that it was to talk about the upcoming pep-rally, but as soon as he started to talk we knew that there was something terribly wrong. He said, "It has come to my attention that there are some very tragic events going on in New York City right now. It seems as if a commercial air plane has flown into one of the World Trade Centers. I would like all teachers to please turn on your televisions to channel nine. I believe this is very important for everyone to see." Mr. Swaringen did what he was told and turned on the television. No one would have thought that what we were about to see could ever happen. But there it was: one of the World Trade Centers up in flames, people running, crying and bleeding. Everything was so chaotic. No one in New York knew what was going on, and they were all trying to escape alive. My whole class sat there, not saying a word, just wondering if this was really happening. None of us knew what to think of the situation. Then we saw it: the second plane flying right into the second World Trade Center tower. That is when we knew it wasn’t fake, wasn’t an accident. We all thought, "Oh my goodness, who could be doing this, why would they want to kill so many innocent people?"

There were many news articles and missing people reports written everyday following the 9-11 tragedy. A lot of the articles I read were published in The Charlotte Observer and were about how many people were lost and who our government suspected might have done this. There were also articles about the chances of it happening again and where it would happen. I found out that Charlotte (where I am from) had a possibility of being a city that could be attacked in the future because it is a very big banking city. These articles made me very aware of what was going on in the world around me. I felt as if I was no longer safe. Like many other people, I had never been through anything like this, and it made me realize how lucky I am that I did not know anyone who was lost or dead. It also made me aware of the fact that we never know what is going to happen in the future or when we are going to lose someone special.

My Pop-pop (that's what I call my grandfather) lives in Saint Petersburg Florida, which means that all my life, he has lived 10 hours away. When I was younger, I only got to see him once a year, if even that much. I knew he was my grandfather, and he loved me, and that he always sent me something for Christmas and my birthday, but that was about it. I didn’t know anything about him. After 9-11, I decided that I should take advantage of my ability to read and write. I didn’t want to miss out on getting to know him. My Pop-pop is a really old-fashioned kind of man. Letters mean so much more to him than a phone call because it takes more effort to write a letter and send it off than it does to dial on a phone. I started writing letters to my Pop-pop every couple of weeks. I would write about everything, even the littlest things, like what I did at school or even what I had to eat for lunch. I had no idea where to start trying to build a relationship.

It took a little while to get a letter back from him that was longer than "I love you too dear, and I’m glad you had a good day. Love, Pop-pop." I knew that if I kept writing him, he would soon write a full letter back. I started to write about my ideas for my future and my goals that I set for myself. I also asked him about his life and the different things he did when he was my age and older. Well, I must of asked the right questions because I started to get real letters in return. He told me about how hard of a life he had when he was growing up. He said that his dad, my great grandfather, had disappeared one day with no one knowing where he went. He said that it was very hard on his mom, his brothers, and himself to get by since it was during the Depression. He wrote about how his mom had never had to work a day in her life, and all of a sudden, she was having to work all the time just so they could eat. She would spend all day baking different kinds of pastries and pies; then my grandfather and his brothers would go around trying to sell them so they would have enough money to buy groceries.

I asked him what he liked to do in high school and he told me about how involved he was in debate class and how he used to go to a lot of different competitions. He said that he enjoyed them and was so good at them that he received a full scholarship to college for it. He wrote about being in the Navy and how he had been positioned to be on a submarine. My Pop-pop said that he got to travel all over the world to places he would have never of been able to go to. He also said he saw a lot of things during WWII that he would rather not talk about. I decided to then ask him to tell me about his life after the War. He wrote about how he got started in the furniture business, and how he knew that having his own furniture store was what he wanted to settle down and do. He told me about how he met my grandmother and how they fell in love. He said that they moved to Florida to open up their own furniture business. The many different stories that he shared helped me get to know him better. Now, when I look back on my letters, I can see how our relationship has changed and grown stronger over the years.

I’ve realized that I always write differently when I write to my Pop-pop than when I write to my friends. Since he is so old fashioned, I write him in a more formal manner. It was harder to write him at first because I was unsure of how to talk to him. I would have my mom check my letters to make sure every word and my punctuation was right. The letters now are less formal. I still make sure every word and punctuation is right, but the letters flow easier. Since I know him better now, I am able to write what I know he wants to hear about and what kind of stories he enjoys reading. When I first started writing the letters I always wrote them by hand. I felt as if this showed a little more effort than typing them. But as the years went on, my Pop-pop’s eyesight got worse and he was unable to read my handwriting easily. I knew this because his letters began to get shorter, and he didn’t respond to a lot of the things I would mention.

That was when I decided that typing them would be more legible. I even started to type in a bigger font size, just to make sure he wouldn’t have to strain in order to read them. I didn’t want them to be a hassle; I wanted him to look forward to and enjoy reading my letters. I learned through his letters that he has always loved being by the ocean, that is why he lives near the water in Florida now. I decided to not give up on creativity when typing the letters to him. I made sure to print them on stationary paper instead of plain white paper. I always use the stationary that has sailboats or has something to do with the ocean on them. I also enjoy picking out special stamps that remind me of him or that I believe he will enjoy. I usually use ones with old cars, baseball players, or American flags. I don’t even know if he notices the stamps, but I do it just in case.

I always hear my friends talk about not wanting to visit their grandparents. They say that it is always so boring at their houses and they never know what to talk about. I am so thankful my relationship with my Pop-pop is different from theirs. Every summer, I spend at least a week with him. Just the two of us. He loves to show me around and take me places I’ve never been. We have our best conversations when we go out to eat. He usually takes me to quiet restaurants because he is able to hear me better. Our conversations are often about what my goals in life are and what I am doing to pursue them. He always makes sure that I am going to have a good foundation in life, so that when I am older and out on my own I will be able to handle it and succeed. Even though he is my grandfather, I feel as if I can talk to him about anything. It is as if there isn’t a "generation gap" between us. He treats me as an adult, an equal, not like a little kid. He has helped me out with so many things, including where to go to college. The letters started our relationship and keep it going when I’m not there.

My Pop-pop is eighty-seven years old now, and I know that he won’t be here with me much longer, which makes me value every letter I read from him, and write to him, even more. They have brought us much closer to each other. I have been able to learn a lot about him and his life. He has shared many stories with many lessons that I know I will be able to use and learn from now and later on in life. I know that I can tell or ask him anything and he will answer me truthfully. I am able to go to him with any problem, no matter the size, and he will help me to the best of his ability. I love writing to him and will continue doing so as long as I can. With each letter I write, I learn something new and grow even closer to him. Being able to read and write the letters help me appreciate these little things in life, which have turned out not to be so little after all.