![]() ![]() I’d been guiding since the mid-1970s, but my secret goal was to become a fulltime writer. It was one of the finest newspapers in the nation. Pete Times had won umpteen Pulitzer Prizes. “Interested?”ĭarn right I was interested. “We’re looking for a columnist,” Robert H. ![]() (We’ll call him Robert H.) He’d been impressed by an article I’d written for Rolling Stone’s new Outside Magazine. It was from the executive editor of The St. Keep reading.ĭuring tarpon season, 1980, when I was a fishing guide on Sanibel Island, I received a potentially life-changing phone call. Spiritual gibberish, you say? Well, maybe. If I believed in parallel universes, I might also believe that, through bumbling good luck, I was destined to become a member of this, one of Florida’s most vibrant and beautiful waterfront cities. ![]() Welcome to Doc Ford’s and the architectural marvel that is the new St. ![]()
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