The drive down to Cameron is different than when I was young. Now, after the hurricanes, everything has changed. But one thing the hurricane did not take away is the spirit of the shrimper and their heart and soul, the shrimp boat. One shrimp boat in particular caught my eye as we drove down the main drag on our way to the ferry. It was run-down and rusty but so beautiful. I love that kind of stuff, and I couldn’t wait to see it through the lens of my camera.
As I was snapping pictures of it, a head popped out of the door and gave a wave, and then the door closed. I took a few more photos then noticed a very small statured older gentleman coming down the boardwalk which led from the boat to the land. He came straight up to the truck, and at first I thought he might tell us we had to leave. But all he wanted to do was visit with us. He talked about his daughter going to college in Florida; that he had been a shrimper all his life; that he was born and raised in Cameron; and that the boat I had fallen in love with was his home. I could tell he felt the same way about it that I did the first time I saw it. It started to rain more, and as he turned to walk away he told us we could come by anytime to fish off his dock.
His warmth and friendliness put us at ease as he embodied true southern hospitality. Hurricanes will come and go, but they will never destroy all the beauty and culture of Cameron or the spirit of the Cameron people.