An unfamiliar Continental with two men nosed out of Fred’s driveway just as Jack & Linda pulled on to the pea rock from the pavement… after three days on the road from Long Island to Lower Matecumbe Key. The sun was setting, the ocean was calm; the temperature was 81 degrees and Jack could barely contain himself. Marina planted a big kiss on both as Fred handed Jack a Stoli on the rocks with a twist and Linda’s straight up.

“Who were those two guys that we passed pulling out of here?” Jack asked. “Oh, you mean in that Lincoln?” Fred answered while draining his dry, dry, dry Rob Roy and heading to the bar to fix another. “It was Perry & Earl,” Fred answered. “I’ll tell you about them later, but now look at this,” he grinned lifting the lid off the big pot full of pink lobsters beginning to boil. “And this,” he continued turning around as he threw open the refrigerator door and pulled out a huge bowl of cracked stone crabs.

Perry and Earl were Time-Share Developers from Ft Myers, who convinced Fred to sell the property and build it out…not as a twenty-unit condo to twenty buyers.

Jack was furious until Fred convinced him to calm down and listen. “We both discussed this…at an average price of $115,000 per unit and a sellout of about $2.3 million, you should make between $40 – 50,000. Correct?” Fred asked for verification, “According to Perry,” he went on…”the average price of one week of Interval Ownership, that’s what they call it…not Time-Share; will be $8,000…times 1,000 weeks equals $8,000,000 and they will pay you 10% commission right away. You don’t have to wait for the buildings to be built…” Jack wasn’t convinced, but what alternative was there? 

And so it came to pass; during the month of February alone; Jack made $17,000 in commissions

They were renting 1/2 a duplex before Jack found a house on 3 acres with 210’ of beach on the ocean, off ‘the old road’ on Plantation Key. Perry & Earl suggested a future clearing of the land and putting 20 hexagon structures up for another Interval Ownership Resort.

One day, shortly after the closing and moving into the house on the ocean, Jack noticed a tan & white Pit Bull sitting alone on the side of US 1…one ear up, one down. He stepped on the brakes and brought the VW convertible to a halt on the shoulder of the road. By the time Jack got out of the driver’s side to make his way around to the other side and opened the door, the Nipper look-a-like jumped onto the front seat and they both drove away…as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Signs were posted, ads were placed in The Pennysaver but by the 3rd week…it was Jack, Linda & Taksan (a handful…in Japanese). Each morning Taksan would pace the 50’, balcony that fronted the ocean and screened the entire width of the stilt house until Jack opened the door. The lean, muscular six-month-old would then scamper down the stairs, round the house, jump on the wooden dock, race the 250’ to the end and fly into the ocean. This ritual would begin hours upon hours of pacing the 210’ of beach in the shallow waters of the ocean in search of pufferfish, octopus, starfish. He would simply plunge his head beneath the water, open his jaws, lift up the creature only… tp deposit it on the shoreline and head back into the water for yet another trophy. ‘Catch and Release’ was Taksan’s passion.

Although the ceremony in June of ’75, near the statue of David in Florence, was as romantic as a wedding could be and a marriage license was issued… it was still a civil ceremony. Upon discovering that June of ’80 had a Friday the 13th…Jack went into action. and the couple married again at St Mary Star of the Sea, Catholic church in Key West. The reception held at La Te Da on Duval. Fred and Marina stood up for the couple and 13 friends from the Upper Keys were in attendance.

In early March of 1982, Jack’s Mom, Mary, called from New Jersey: “Your Father’s in the hospital and not doing well.” The following day, Jack flew up, His Father’s 3 sisters: Anna, Mary and Lillian were at the hospital. “Johnny doesn’t look good.” Lillian sniffled.

Linda joined Jack 2 days later for the funeral. The Russian Orthodox priest at St Michael’s on Oliver Street, one block from the Oliver Tavern, in Newark where Jack grew up…mentioned, during the service, that when someone dies without leaving an heir, there’s no one to pray for the deceased… it’s not a good thing. Nine months later, two days after Christmas…Oliver John was born and Taksan had a baby brother.

Oliver began snorkeling at Taksan’s side about the same time he began walking. His first pair of shoes were Topsiders and he caught a foot-long barracuda off the end of the dock at 3.5 years old… Oliver is a CONCH!