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Decades of easy living ends
By ANDREW MEACHAM
Published June 29, 2007
As sweat soaked his shirtless torso and ponytail, Don Dycus taped a piece of cardboard to his neighbor's door. "I want my television back or I will call the police, " his note warned in black magic marker. "Someone seen you." Dycus, 57, said he lost two television sets this month while moving out of the Alafia River RV Resort. The park, for decades an idyllic place to live inexpensively under the shade of oak trees, closes for good today. Once a hitching post for snowbirds or a full-time home for more than 200 people, the park on the southern bank of the Alafia River east of Interstate 75 is being razed to make way for condominiums, shops and a 150-room hotel. For weeks, residents have been clearing out. Any units not gone by today will be destroyed. Residents got wind of plans to develop the property in January, when a "for sale" sign went up on Gibsonton Drive. A month later it was another sign, this time announcing the Shoppes of Alafia. In April, residents got eviction letters and an offer of free lot rental to those who signed over their homes to the park. As residents puttered during the park's waning days, a gray Mustang convertible cruised slowly down narrow streets past empty concrete slabs. Larry Bauman, one of the owners, said he wanted to make sure people were moving out on schedule. The car pauses near the small trailer where Laura Pruett was trying to figure out what to do next. Pruett, 37, and her husband, Steve, paid $2, 300 in 2006 for the "park model" trailer they share with a son. The family doesn't have enough money to move. Three ducks waited on a brick patio as if they had all day. The Pruetts have fed them since moving in. Most permanent residents, such as Dycus, have found spots in Hidden River, Rice Creek or other mobile home parks. But Debra Jones, who has called the park home since 1989, doesn't want another RV park. She would rather put her home in storage. "It makes me want to cry, " she said. The last days brought unwanted visitors to the park, said Sharon Albertson, 59, who lost a picnic table about three weeks ago. The community center, where residents once held weekly gatherings for coffee and doughnuts, played euchre and held meetings, sits abandoned. Someone bundled the romance and crime paperbacks into a plastic bag. A jigsaw puzzle called Chickadee Lane sat on an otherwise empty bookshelf. In the picture, villagers dance to an accordion and fiddle. A pair of cows watch, as does an owl in the rafters and children in a hay loft. A cat has found a place to go to sleep. That vision lies in disconnected pieces now. Andrew Meacham can be reached at 661-2431 or ameacham@sptimes.com.
[Last modified June 28, 2007, 07:47:44]
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