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Autobiography |
I was born in Sandusky, Ohio on October 25, 1954.
When I was seven
years old, my family moved to Phoenix, Arizona, where I lived until I
enlisted in the U.S. Army, only a few weeks after graduating from
Maryvale High School in 1972.
There really isn't much to tell about my military
experience except for that I was in the 101st Airborne Division and
that
I would always be grateful to Uncle Sam for the education benefits. The
late Jimi Hendrix didn't have much to say about his experience at Fort
Campbell, Kentucky, either. When I honorably discharged from the U.S.
Army
in June of 1975 I didn't have anywhere else to go, so I moved in with
my
folks,
who, at the time, were living in Pleasant Ridge, Michigan (part of the
greater
Detroit area).
Detroit was a little too cold in the winter for my
car. So after many early morning conversations with my 1974 Ford
Mustang II, I moved south to Miami, Florida in March 1976.
Miami was everything that I wanted at the
time--great weather, low pollution levels, inexpensive colleges, great
weather…oops I already said that. I bought a small trailer in lovely
Liberty City (which turned out to be the future site of the 1980 race
riots). I worked full time at Arby’s on North Miami Beach and went to
school full time at
Miami-Dade Community College (North Campus). Just for the fun of it, I
attended a summer semester at the University of Madrid, Spain. It was
an experience that I'll never forget and cherish for the rest of my
life. Later, I acquired a full
time job working with Mentally Handicapped children and I was going to
school full time at Florida International University. Sometime after my
first semester at FIU, things began to get ugly in my
neighborhood, so I moved to a mobile home park in Florida City,
Florida.
And yes, it was one of the many parks in Florida City that no longer
exist
today, thanks to Hurricane Andrew.
I lived in Florida City for only six months. A
friend and co-worker told me about a school for emotionally disturbed
adolescents in Key Largo, Florida. He didn't know exactly where it was,
but he was sure that it was in Key Largo. I went down there one day to
find the school. I asked just about everyone that I saw until I found
someone who knew about the place. The school was called Montanari (Sea
Camp). I've
never been hired so fast in my life. I didn't even have to fill out an
application. I spoke to the director for a few minutes and the next
thing I knew, I had to report to work the next
day. Montanari was a residential treatment center for emotionally
disturbed and mentally handicapped adolescents. There was the main
campus in Hialeah, Florida and the Sea Camp in Key Largo. Dr. A.J.
Montanari was the owner's name, but everyone called him Monty. He
accepted kids with every mental handicap imaginable from all over the
United States. There was nothing
fancy
about the poured concrete buildings that Sea Camp was made up of, but
the
fact that it was on waterfront property was what made everything about
the
place. The kids could go fishing in the Atlantic Ocean everyday. There
was
a swimming pond, too. Few went swimming in it because the kids kept it
well
stocked with shark, barracuda, stingrays and other fun ocean creatures.
My job wasn't confusing, only my job title. I was
the greenhouse therapist. I taught kids how to grow and care for a
variety
of plants. It was rewarding in a sense that many of the students
learned
an occupation. But there were those times…and I still have the scars to
prove it.
After working at Sea Camp for two and a half years,
the only
job
that I ever loved came to an end when the owner sold the school to a
condominium developer in 1981. I stayed until the very end. When I was
digging up the sign from the roadside, the owner of a wholesale
plumbing supply warehouse walked across the street to greet me. He had
heard about the school closing and asked if I needed a job. “I can
start tomorrow,” was my answer.
I worked eighty plus hours per week delivering
plumbing supplies to contractors and retail hardware stores from Key
West to Fort Pierce, Florida. After six months of working like that I
had saved enough money so that I could finish school at FIU and not
have to work a job while attending classes.
In December 1982, when I finally graduated from FIU
with a B.A. in Sociology and Anthropology, I was happy with my
achievement, but I didn't feel like Indiana Jones, either. And my
savings had taken
quite a hit. It was time to get back to work. I knew that I could
always
get a job at the Montanari (Hialeah Campus). I worked there for one
year.
Working there wasn't the same as working at Sea Camp. Besides, a friend
of
mine had moved to Marin County, California. He asked me if I would like
to
work at a group home for autistic adolescents. I said, “Sure, why not.”
One lesson I learned in 1983 was that California was
expensive. Just to make ends meet, I had to work at the group home at
night, teach in a learning disabilities classroom at Tamalpais
High School during the day, plus tutor to ADHD kids in the late
afternoons. At first, I rented a room in a home for four hundred
dollars a month. I had no kitchen privileges. And I had to use the
bathroom beside the swimming pool. I wasn't allowed to swim in the
pool, either. I felt like a wet dog living in a home with white carpet.
I told my friend that I felt uncomfortable living there and that I
would rather sleep on the floor…anywhere. “You can sleep on the floor
in the office,” he said as a joke. I took him up on his offer.
I was no stranger to sleeping on the floor. When I
worked at Sea Camp, I lived in a two bedroom home with twenty other
people (known as the staff house). Though, Ill admit that the carpet
in the staff house was soon impossible to tolerate. Even the swimming
pool turned a beautiful shade of green. Lucky for me there was a 9’X12”
tool shed in the backyard. I put the lawnmower and lawn chemicals onto
one side of the shed and lived in the other side. I lived like that
until I bought a small camper and met Howard, an owner of a
plant nursery. He let me move my small camper on his property. I had
to take showers outside but, hey, it was a place to stay. When I built
an
indoor shower, the tenants at a nearby condominium complained to Howard
that
they missed watching me take my showers.
Anyway, I slept on the office floor until I left
California immediately after the school year in June of 1984. It was
also the last
time I ever taught school. From there, I went to visit with my folks,
who
at the time were living in Columbus, Ohio. It had been many years since
I had last seen them, so I stayed for a few months. Later, I went back
to
live in Key Largo, where a shack at Howard's plant nursery was home.
For those of you who'd like to read more about my experiences living at
Howie's, please purchase my book, Life on the Meridian.
For now, I'll just include that he collected
stray
men off the streets of Key Largo like a widow would pick up stray
animals.
I lived there for a total of six years before I bought a sailboat. It
was
a twenty-five foot Helms sloop. It had a swing keel, allowing me to
sail
in the shallows. I lived on my boat for about a year before I met
Becky.
Becky lived on the boat with me for about six months. Then one morning,
she
ripped her stocking while stepping off the boat. “That's it! We're
getting
an apartment!”
I asked Becky, “with what money?” It didn't take her
long to save her pennies for an apartment. Ill admit that it was a
great place. The apartment was right on a canal--only about fifty yards
from a gulf side inlet. I was able to dock my sailboat only fifty feet
from the apartment
door. Whenever I wanted to go sailing, I just walked outside, untied my
boat
and went. We lived there for one year to the day. During that time, we
got married
on
November 4, 1988 in New Columbia, Pennsylvania.
Now, I was a married
man and figured that I needed to act or at least seem like one. Housing
in the Florida Keys was not relative to the average wage earner in the
area, much like California. We decided to move to Fort Myers, Florida
where housing
was affordable.
We looked like the Beverly Hillbillies rolling down
the road. My small
1984 Mitsubishi pickup truck was loaded to the sky with all of our
belongings. We arrived in Fort Myers on a Saturday evening in March of
1989. We had
to find an apartment that day--an impossible mission at best. We found
one
at five o'clock in the afternoon. We lived in the apartment for about
three
months. That gave us enough time to find the home of our dreams. At
least I liked it. Ill probably never hear the end of it from Becky
about the pool home that got away.
I found work as the maintenance man at a
seventy unit high rise condominium on Fort Myers Beach, where I worked
for eleven years. Becky was hired at the local Cable Company as a
Customer Service Rep.. Working as a maintenance man at a condominium on
the beach was not as romantic as many people might visualize. Believe
it or not, there were many days when I never as much as glanced at the
ocean or any of the other scenic views. Working on the beach and
vacationing on the beach are two different things. I could talk forever
about my experiences with condo commandos and snowbird renters. The
winter beach traffic was so bad, I was able to write a good portion of
my two science fiction novels in my pickup truck while bumping along in
the afternoon gridlock.
Later, I
decided to accept a position at the
Ruth Cooper Center (a
behavioral health care center), because I needed the medical benefits.
I worked there for nearly four years in the Facilities
Maintenance Department. It wasn't a bad place to work and I'll always
be grateful for the HVAC training that I received. It was time to move
on. My next stop was employment as a maintenance supervisor at a 120
bed nursing home. Everyone there was very friendly and I worked
there part time for another two years after I was hired at the Lee County School
Board. I just couldn't say no to
the opportunity of
working at a job that offered such a great benefits package. I was
happy working there as an air conditioning mechanic
for nearly two years. But two years of a frightening housing boom and
two rediculous hurricane seasons made me rethink why I was living in
Southwest Florida. My wife and I didn't want to leave Florida, so we
moved to Gainesville, Florida in May of 2006. Currently I work for the School Board of Alachua County, where
I repair air
conditioning equipment in schools and office buildings throughout the
district. It's an interesting job and I enjoy it when I can make
someone's day by restoring air to a classroom.
Becky and I never had any children of our own.
Although we shared our
home with many beautiful foster children since 1998. Also, we
have many beautiful godchildren.
You can read more about my adventures in the Florida
Keys by reading Life
on the Meridian.
And visit my web site at: http://starkloff.com