(photo courtesy of http://www.elasmodiver.com/JupiterInletLighthousePictures.htm)
Those of us who grew up in Jupiter, Florida are passionate about our hometown. Share your memories with the world. Now accepting memoirs, photographs, and art work for the Jupiter Days Anthology! The anthology will be published in print and digital form.
Do you have a special memory of growing up in Jupiter? Does a certain Jupiter event or place in Jupiter bring up memories for you? Here is your chance to share them!
Guidelines:
Written memoirs should be under 2000 words. Not a writer? No problem…shoot me an email and I’ll be happy to set up a phone or Skype interview with you! Worried about your spelling and grammar? Don’t be! I personally edit all submissions, so your memoir will be perfect.
Photographs and artwork should be scans of the actual photo or work (or high quality images). Ideally, images should be at least 300 dpi. All photographs and artwork should be from your own collection or properly cited with permission for use from the owner(s).
Deadline for submissions: November 15, 2013
Send submissions and/or queries to: karenzomedia@gmail.com
Lifetales Media 
Here is a cowboy poem(sort of) I wrote, based on my memory of a conversation my father had with an old Jupiter cattleman named Britt Lanier..
The Trial
‘Twas a bright blue, hot August morning, jury duty had called him to town,
Britt Lanier had driven US1; A1A was flooded out.
Justice would be done that day, of that there could be no doubt.
A short, bandy legged cowboy, you could say (quietly) a little galoot;
Dressed to the nines in his Stetson hat, and shiny new Justin boots.
The courtroom was already crowded, and the judge started on time;
A poor-lookin’ feller from the edge of the ‘Glades was charged with making moonshine.
In the Prosecutor’s opening statement, he swung for the early home run; “This fellow”, he said, “Should stand ready to pay
for the wrongful deed he has done!”
To make his point, and prove that his arguments would go far,
the Prosecutor showed the jury a quart of moonshine in a jar.
Approaching the jury, he screwed off the lid, then handed it to one of the men; Saying; “THIS is what he was making…a lot…not just now and then!”
The sniffs and dainty winces were comic, as the jar passed from hand to hand.
Britt sat carefully watching it all, him being the very last man.
He took the jar and sniffed it,then paused, and quick as a wink,
he lifted the jar and from it, took a large and healthy drink!
A chorus of gasps filled the courtroom; the attorney’s was more like a hiss…
Catching his breath a little, Britt said; (in a voice almost like his)
“HELL, judge, I can’t send a man to jail for making good whiskey like this!”
Carl A. Crosby
June, 1995
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thanks Carl! I love it!
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