Friday, February 19, 2010
It's three buildings and two floors and a good quarter block of tin ceilings, old fittings, a labarynth of narrow corridors and old shelves stocked with almost everything that you can imagine, and everything you can't find in your standard nation-wide chain hardware stores.
But, I don't really go there to shop (although, when I was there yesterday I did buy a stopper-plug for my bathroom sink, so that I can convert it into a rinsing tank for when I do my cyanotype prints.) Being a photographer who likes old things - I go there to take pictures.
Most stores, when you whip out a camera and take off your lens cap (There are very few stores I'd actually do that in, most just don't appeal to me.) will ask you to either put away the camera, or leave. The people at Travis see you with a camera, and they'll even suggest places around the store that have some neat, photogenic stuff in it. They've even hosted bevies of college photography students who comb through the old, well-worn, but well-loved labarynth for good shots. It's no wonder, as the possibilites there are endless, as there's just so many things to look at, which have all been there since the beginning
Each building has its own individual staircase, and each building is connected to one another through various means. This is where the fun part comes in: in the summer months, you can traverse a sloping, slanted skybridge across the separation from the 1907 building to the the 1916 building which drops you right in front of what had been a freight elevator. The front of the second floor of this building has a plain tin ceiling painted in mellows colors that remind me of the cast-iron buildings of New York City. Down the stairway and out the rear of the building, across a narrow yard, you come to a covered area, which is the traffic hub of Travis's employees, the confluence of all walking traffic between the three buildings. Here, you'll see to your left a narrow hallway that is barely shoulder-width. It takes a hard right, over a grate into which rainwater drains from the gutter, and there is the pipe room. At the very end of the long, narrow outbuilding is where the original riverbank of the river was located, and where the complex was accessible to barges going up and down the river. The whole complex once sat directly on the riverfront of Cocoa.
But, that, along with many other things around Travis Hardware has changed. The river was filled in and now the riverbank is basically two blocks to the east from the rear of the property. All but one of the buildings directly in front of the store have either burned down or been demolished, and the hotel, bandstand, and numerable other businesses and storefronts have disappeared, since replaced by the east and westbound lanes of State Road 520.
So, go down there and have a look around. They're on the southeast corner of Delannoy Avenue (or State Hwy 515) and King Street (eastbound State Rd. 520) in downtown Cocoa. They're all very friendly, and will know exactly where something is if you're looking for something hardware-related. Take some pictures, and buy something, even. I'm sure they'll appreciate it.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Some people consider it progress, and nice for property values. It probably is. Others compliment the landscaping around the entrances to these places. I find it unappealing, and, quite frankly, depressing. I find it sad that a state with such a diverse regional flavors is losing its soul to the sprawl to the outdated theory of failed post-war urbanism (or suburbanism). I know that's a lot of big words to throw about, but, it's true. This state is becoming one large, homogenous subdivision.
And a great deal of that homogenous subdivision was built on thousands upon thousands of citrus groves.
Which is why seeing these groves outside of LaBelle, in the southwestern-central part of the state was so reassuring. To see the thousands of acres of still functioning, maintained groves was comforting, confirming that Florida still has a great deal of its agricultural heart left that's still beating. For how long, I don't know, but I was happy to see it at least still around for a little longer.
But still, I wish my area still had them. They were pretty. And in the spring, when the acres and acres were blooming, it left the air heavy with the scent of citrus. It's heavenly. I just wish more people would be able to experience that.
I know it's been a while since I posted something here, but I've been busy and stuff - visiting family, that kind of thing. Well, relatively busy. But you get the idea.