Jack had just been selected to be the Nation’s youngest Branch Manager for the building material giant: Georgia Pacific, Jack’s Long Island Branch covered both Nassau and Suffolk Counties as well as Brooklyn, Queens and Manhattan. He kept an apartment in NYC as well as a studio on the harbor in an early nineteenth century, ship captain’s mansion on Bayview Avenue in Northport. He drove a red, 240Z, which understood how the lights on First Ave operated. He could leave the East Village at 2 a.m. and be at E 77th & The River in 5 minutes.

His ascent up the corporate ladder was meteoric…from his immersion in Dallas and the Southwest to a 9-month stint in Syracuse, NY, and on to Long Island was a whirlwind. His future was being mapped out and he wasn’t sure he liked what was forecasted. In July he took a sabbatical in the South of France and Scandinavia. Upon returning, he discovered a letter postmarked Islamorada, Florida

It was from Linda, who was living and working in the Upper Keys for Coulter Electronics as an instructor. Perfect! He decided, on the spot, to leave Georgia Pacific, his apartment in the City; his studio on the North Shore, and his ski boat…move to The Keys, and write his novel. Within 2 weeks a VW convertible was packed with a hundred record albums, a typewriter, and an SLR camera.

The first Saturday morning upon arrival in The Keys Jack & Linda were having breakfast at an almost empty Holiday Isle when suddenly the door swung open. “Linda wanna go fishing?” the heavyset Captain blurted out. “My charter never showed, it’s all paid for, The North Light’s got a full tank; there’s beer and sandwiches, and the sea’s calm.” Being in the right place at the right time is everything! Five hours later as the North Light made its way back through the channel there were 50 people waiting to see the ‘smallest blue marlin ever caught in The Keys.’ Captain Bill North was more tickled than anyone and had a duplicate mount made of the 8 lbs. 8 ozs. prize.

To augment the tips he received tending bar at the Cheeca Lodge, Jack took the course, passed the exam, and got his Real Estate License.
It didn’t happen overnight but Jack allied himself with a builder: Fred Snowman. Fred, a Miami developer, who had just sold an apartment building on Brickell Avenue and was flush with cash. He was in the throes of building 8 oceanfront homes on Lower Matecumbe Key and having little luck in selling them. “I’m going propose to Fred that we move into one of the completed homes,” Jack bounced the idea off Linda, “and I’ll be there 7 days a week.” “Oh right,” Linda shot back…” you really think he’s going to agree to that?” Two hours later, Jack came back to the little guest house they were renting from Rome Wayne. “Start packing,” he instructed, grinning from ear to ear.

Publisher after New York, publisher returned Jack’s manuscript Up A Fjord. Handling rejection was not one of Jack’s strong points and his visions of appearances on Late Night Talk shows were less frequent. The manuscript wound up on the desk of a paperback Publisher, who did contact Jack and suggested they sit down together. With just one house remaining unsold, Jack flew to NY for the meeting. The low offer on the table to put Up A Fjord in paperback was unattractive, but the main reason Jack said ‘no thanks’ was that he would have no say so in the editing whatsoever. The following day, driving back from MIA…he began thinking that perhaps he needed a Plan B.

The last house sold, $10,000 in commissions to the good, Jack thought about his father’s advise, when he showed his Dad a canal lot that was for sale. “Eight thousand dollars has got to be a good investment, the former Tavern owner insisted.

One month later Jack & Linda boarded a plane at JFK bound for Rome.