Life in Boggyville...

I first set foot in Okaloosa County, Florida in the spring of 1973.

My father, Tom Jr. - was in the U.S. Air Force, had just returned from Southeast Asia, and - after “reclaiming” his family in North Carolina, reported for duty at Eglin Air Force Base. My love for the area was immediate - no hesitation whatsoever. I loved the scenery, the water, all of the fun things to do; and the people. I had spent most of my young life feeling like a total outsider, a perpetual tourist - but not in Northwest Florida, I was home.

But this posting isn't really about me and my wonderful experiences as a teenager in Okaloosa County. No, my ”Boggy” roots actually run much deeper than that and I didn't even know it until a few weeks after we arrived in the area. It was when my father casually mentioned that he, his sister and his parents had lived in Niceville for a short time, in the mid-1940's - that I received my education in our family ties to the area.

My education was then further enhanced upon the arrival of my father's mother, who came for a visit - she easily recalled the location of the home that they lived in, and a number of other landmarks in Niceville and on Eglin. Not bad considering that it had been a good thirty years since she had lived in the area. My father's parents were from Pittsburgh, Pa. and so that is where they lived and gave birth to their children (Tom and Gale). The year was 1945, during the heat of World War II - my grandmother, Naomi Ruth DiFrancesca had a sister, who was married to a man that was in the Army Air Corp, stationed at Eglin Field.

My great-uncle Danny Mills and his wife Beryl, were so pleased with the Niceville area that they invited my grandparents to come live with them and to check-out the community. It really didn't take much persuasion for my grandparents to leave Pittsburgh - the noise, the pollution, the constant smell of oil and diesel were all daily reminders of just how industrialized Pittsburgh had become. Niceville must have felt like a primitive paradise when my grandparents, father and aunt stepped off the bus.

As far as my father can remember, there were no paved roads; just white sand trails leading everywhere. My father's aunt and uncle lived in a small house on Bayshore Drive - in fact, that house was still standing and inhabited until just a few years ago. The house was quite crowded but Sicilians are known for their closeness and strong family ties. There was no bathroom facilities inside of the house. I was really surprised to find out that the bathroom consisted of an outhouse, which was located on a dock that jutted out from the backyard - and over the water of Boggy Bayou.

My grandfather, Salvatore or “Sal”, as most folks called him, was quickly able to secure a civilian job at Eglin Field - he was hired as a firefighter. Since neither of them owned a car, my grandfather and his brother-in-law traveled to work every day by boat. They would tie-up somewhere in the area of present day Postal Point on Eglin Air Force Base. There are times, in these past thirty years, that I have stood on the banks of Boggy Bayou and have imagined seeing my grandfather and great-uncle slowly motoring across the bayou as they headed toward Eglin Field.

I also used to stand on the water side of the Valparaiso Inn, then uninhabited and in serious disrepair and imagine how it must have stood out like a majestic palace. In fact, my grandmother told me just that - it was the hub of activity in Niceville and Valparaiso. I was terribly disappointed when the Inn burned down in the late 1970's and quickly faded completely into history. I don't believe in ghosts but it seemed like a supernatural thing happened to me just prior to writing this article. My father had just recently come across an old picture of his cousin Joyce - she was fishing from a dock in Niceville, during the 40's. I volunteered to restore the photograph as best as possible in order to send a copy to Joyce - as a surprise. It was to my surprise that after enlarging the photograph I was able to see the top of the Valparaiso Inn, on the other side of Boggy Bayou. It was an eerie feeling.

My father was in one of the very first classes at Edge Elementary School, he has very fond memories of his short time there. He also remembers walking home one day from school, when he and a friend came across a number of piglets that were running loose, which was normal in the area back then. He and the friend decided to play chase with the piglets. Apparently, they never considered that the piglets just might not have very good endurance. As my father was chasing one particular swine, it just dropped dead from exhaustion. My father felt really bad about the situation and even much worse when my grandparents found out what happened. He never did tell me exactly what his punishment was.

Life in “paradise” for my father and his family came to an end only six months after arriving in Niceville. Because of the war and because of the shortage of laborers, my grandfather was told that he had to go back to Pittsburgh to work in the shipyards there. Apparently, he was supposed to have checked with “someone” prior to leaving Pennsylvania. My grandfather, being a patriotic American, quickly returned to Pittsburgh with his family.

My grandmother also went to work in the shipyards there and became a riveter - there have been many stories written about the women who did that job during World War II. If my grandfather had not been recalled to Pittsburgh, he and his family would most likely have remained in Niceville - they were extremely happy there. They did eventually return to Florida after the War, but ended up in Miami - and that, is another story.