Yesterday, we took our daughter to the neighborhood I grew up in for Trick-or-Treat. We went down the same route we used to take when I was a kid. My mom was with us, and I saw the old houses, some with new doors to knock on.
We saw a house with a big picture window. On the other side of the window, the owner had decorated for Halloween, with a full sized monster figure, and lit up carved pumpkins. There were other assorted decorations finishing off the festive Halloween decor.
The owner of the house came out, and since she lived on the same block as our old mailman (see yesterdays blog entry), I proceeded to tell her about how much I enjoyed the mailmans decorations when I was a kid and that her decorations reminded me of his house.
"That was my father" she said. "Mr. Faye. He lived on the other side of the block. My daughter lives there now."
We continued talking for a bit. She was overwhelmed with joy, talking about how much her father loved decorating his house for Halloween. She was also very happy to hear that someone appreciated what he did.
So, I thanked Ms. Ellis, and continued to walk down the old neighborhood with my daughter. I realized that though Miami has changed, the old neighborhood hasn't changed much.
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