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Homes

A home full of family, memories

The couple raised five children in the house they bought in 1950. It's still a haven for family members.

By ELIZABETH BETTENDORF
Published October 21, 2005

SOUTHEAST SEMINOLE HEIGHTS - Ray and Mary Rabon know what it means to be satisfied with family, friends and their house. In an era of upsizing, downsizing and a lot of fancy flipping, they've nested in theirs for 55 years.

The couple, both in their 80s, raised five children in the modest, mid-20th century house on a sleepy residential street in Southeast Seminole Heights.

Their grown grandson, Michael McKinney, lives in an apartment out back and loves it. His grandfather makes his lunch in the morning. His grandparents' stories of life during World War II still captivate him.

"I could sit and talk to them for three hours if I have the time," raves McKinney, 27, who works for Progressive Insurance in Tampa.

The house, which the Rabons bought almost new in 1950 for $6,500 - and paid off in $30 monthly installments - still provides a haven for kids, grandkids, friends and spouses who drop by at any moment to visit the affable and energetic couple.

"They all know that no matter what they need or what happens to them, they can always come home," says Ray, who loves horses and John Wayne. He keeps a portrait of the movie cowboy over his desk. "We've never had this house by ourselves for very long."

On a Tuesday evening this autumn, as nighttime folded its arms around the house and the old oak out front, the phone jangled incessantly with calls from family and friends. Teenage granddaughters - one with boyfriend in tow - trooped through the cheery rooms, hugging Mary and Ray, then making their way to the guest room to rifle through a box of shoes and sandals that an aunt was getting rid of.

"I spent many a night in this room," says Nena Garcia, 15.

The couple added on and fixed up the house over the years, modestly and in increments. They expanded the kitchen and enclosed the carport to create a family room. They added a master bedroom suite, where Ray brings Mary coffee every morning before he goes to work at 5 a.m. - most recently to build a 12-stall barn in Thonotosassa.

"We love this room, we absolutely live in it," says Mary, whose decorating touches fill the house, from the leopard-print pillows, fabrics and candles in the living room to the tastefully framed portraits of family members that decorate the bookshelves and walls.

The couple say it never occurred to them to live anywhere else. "All our children were born here," says Mary, 82. "And when we first moved to this neighborhood, it was well within our means. We've always been satisfied."

Ray served as a foreman in the early 1950s on one of Tampa Bay's most famous projects: the original Sunshine Skyway bridge. Much of the work on his house he did himself.

It was a different era when they bought the once-tiny house, he recalls, a time when he could settle a large doctor bill by giving the physician his 1956 Cadillac.

"He didn't want to take it, but I insisted," Ray says.

Children roamed the neighborhood and nearby Giddens Park from morning till dinner time - or until Ray stood at the front door and whistled so loudly that it could be heard blocks away.

The house grew as the family grew.

"We were 18 when we got married and didn't have any money," recalls Ray, 81. "Yes, the house was small, but we've added on a lot over the years."

The couple met during World War II at a U.S. Navy yard in Brooklyn. Ray was temporarily stationed in the base post office, and Mary was a telephone operator.

"I thought she was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen, and I had met some really beautiful ones - Betty Grable, Frances Langford," recalls Ray, referring to the matinee idols who often toured bases or performed for U.S. military troops.

The two went on a date to a Navy dance at the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel.

Five days later they married.

Two weeks later Ray was shipped overseas for two years.

For a visitor, he pulls out a black and white picture of the girl he thought of every day. She's wearing a crisp dark skirt, blazer and pumps and a crisp, triangular hat, standing in a pool of sunlight on the roof of their apartment building.

When he returned to the States, he stopped at Mary's father's watch repair shop pretending to be a customer. Her father didn't recognize him at first.

Recalls Mary: "I barely remembered what he looked like, either. I mean, it had been two years."

The couple decided to start a new life in Tampa. Their house on Olney Avenue turned out to be the perfect choice for their growing family. Their brood of five girls found friends up and down the street.

"My best friend to this day I met on Olney," says daughter Donna Norby. "I used to walk across the field to her house. We just celebrated our 50th birthdays together."

Norby lives in Wesley Chapel but works in Tampa. She comes home for a quick sandwich with her mother almost every day.

Norby and her four sisters shared such close quarters that squabbling over clothes was a frequent issue. Norby points out a small closet she once outfitted with a padlock to keep her sisters out.

She also points to a former garage apartment across the street that she moved into at 17 when she wanted a place of her own.

She moved home a few weeks later.

The family finds any reason to get together; they listen to stories and celebrate every milestone.

They meet every Christmas Eve for a gathering that they say trumps any celebration at the homes of in-laws or friends.

The event includes Mary's famous holiday punch, hors d'oeuvres, shrimp, dip and little hot dogs.

"We're a really close family," Norby says. "It's not unusual for us to break down in tears when we get to talking. I can't even put into words how lucky we are to still be able to come home."

[Last modified October 20, 2005, 09:03:09]