Visiting the City of Carrabelle
Roxanne and I walk into Carrabelle’s tourist and information center. It doesn’t seem to matter how small the town is, they always have an information center. A couple of nice ladies were having a conversation in an office across the hall when the one behind the desk hollers out through the open doors. “If ya’ll have any questions, don’t be shy, come on over here and ask.”
She seemed like a lively one so I headed on over, Roxanne smartly stayed behind and looked at the brochures, “Hey ladies, can you tell me where I can find a box of red wine?” I like boxed wine and it works well with the boat.
They sort of looked at each other trying to answer my question when the lively one says, “Have you tried Harry’s Bar? They sell packed liquor.”
“I saw the sign, Harry’s looks a little rough on the outside so we just walked past, is it safe in there?”
They both started laughing, “Well sonny, if you go in there and somebody gives you any trouble, just come on back here and let me know and I’ll go right on over and take care of them for you.”
The both started laughing hysterically.
I liked these ladies, even though grandma basically called me a wimp.
I was having fun so I decided to talk with them some more, “I saw that your town has the world’s smallest police station.”
I was skeptical that this thing was real. It’s really just a phone booth on the street that’s labeled “Police Station.” It sort of looked like a gimmick to drum up tourism.
I had to ask, “Is that thing real?”
The other lady replies, “Oh yeah!” “Now we’re a bit older than you and you have to remember to back in the day before cell phones. Carrabelle is a small town and we just had one cop, Marvin Braswell. We decided to have a phone in the middle of town that anybody could use. It was free of charge and people would use it to call home or whatever they needed. So, if somebody needed Marvin, they just called that phone and anybody that was nearby would answer and track him down and let him know what the problem was.”
I was surprised. I thought for sure that this phone booth police station thing was a gimmick.
She finished up her story, “We don’t use it anymore, hell I don’t even think there is a phone in the booth but back in day it served its’ purpose for us.”
Roxanne made her way over and I thanked the ladies for their time when the lively one shouts at us as we are walking out the door, “Remember to come and get me if you run into trouble at Harry’s.” This was followed by another round of laughter.
I immediately got the joke when we opened the bar door to Harry’s. The bartender was an older lady of about 60 and the patrons may have been eye witnesses to the D-Day invasion.
We had a beer, found our box of red wine and made it out of the door without any trouble.
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