Psst! Food pantry is a well-kept secret

Support-a-Bull Market
Ashley Campbell | USFSP
The Support-a-Bull Market was supposed to help address student hunger.

By ASHLEY CAMPBELL
USFSP Student Reporter

ST. PETERSBURG – When the campus established a food pantry last spring, both Student Government and administration stressed that it would help students who sometimes go hungry.

Regional Chancellor Martin Tadlock said that addressing what he called “food insecurity” would help students concentrate on their academics, keep them in school and improve the campus’ student retention rate.

The retention rate is one of the yardsticks, or metrics, that the Legislature uses in determining whether a school becomes, or remains, a “preeminent research university” that is entitled to extra state funding.

But so far the new pantry – called the Support-a-Bull Market – has the appearance of a well-kept secret.

It’s in a room off a hallway on the first floor of the Student Life Center. There are no signs pointing the way to the pantry, and most of the time the door is padlocked.

A sign on the door says the pantry’s hours are “TBD.” If students need help, the sign says, they should call the office of the dean of students at (727) 873-4278.

So far, about 20 students have used the pantry, said Joseph Contes, the assistant director of the Office of Student Outreach and Support (SOS).

The pantry is the responsibility of SOS, which is charged with helping students manage stress and the barriers that affect their health and wellness.

The SOS website describes what items are available in the pantry, which relies primarily on monthly food donations from RSC Pinellas (Religious Community Services Inc.), a nonprofit charity that helps people facing hunger, homelessness and domestic violence.

As of October, more than 500 pounds of food had been donated, according to SOS.

The website also lists the hours the pantry is open: Mondays from 11 a.m. to 2 p.m., Tuesdays and Wednesdays from 8 to 9:15 a.m., Thursdays from 8 a.m. to 1 p.m. and Fridays from 11 a.m. to 2 p.m.

So why is the pantry tucked away like an afterthought and open only 13 and a half hours a week?

And why aren’t the hours of operation posted on the padlocked door?

Contes, 33, said that SOS can’t afford to keep the pantry open for more hours.

Dark Pantry
Ashley Campbell | USFSP
Most of the time, the pantry is dark and its door padlocked.

“There is no recurring funding,” he said. University alumni donated about $5,000 for the pantry and that’s all SOS has to work with, since the university itself provides nothing, he said.

The location is out of the way because it was the only space available, he said. He hopes to move the SOS office to the SLC so it is closer and more convenient for the pantry, but all of the offices there are being used, he said.

If a student wants to request food, they must call within business hours and wait for someone to come help them. Then the student fills out an intake request form, provides their U-number and gets a receipt to take items from the pantry.

For some students, it might be embarrassing to admit they are financially strapped and hungry.

But the pantry does not provide discreet access. The students who use it must be monitored “to make sure the resources aren’t abused,” said graduate assistant Meghan Yacinthe, 22, one of the two students who staff the pantry.

SOS can only afford to pay for one work study student for the year. The other student monitor works for the university housing staff.

Despite the pantry’s bumpy start, Contes has ambitious goals for it.

He wants to increase student use, develop sources of recurrent funding, and get a refrigerator for fresh options like bread, fruits and vegetables, and dairy products.

Most importantly, he said, he wants to tear down the stigma that people only go to a food pantry when they are in dire need. He wants students to use the pantry even if it is just for a snack between classes, he said.

Without more funding, however, it is unclear how long the pantry will stay open. The donated funding was only enough to open the pantry and pay for one student employee for the year, said Contes.

This month the university began a “Herdfunder Drive,” asking faculty, staff and friends of the university to contribute so that the pantry’s hours can be extended and its offerings expanded to include hygiene products like toothbrushes.

As of Dec. 11, 34 donors had pledged $1,365 – 46 percent of the goal of $3,000. The drive is scheduled to end Dec. 16.

His credo: Treat everyone with respect

By DILLON MASTROMARINO
USFSP Student Reporter

ST. PETERSBURG – The waiting room at St. Anthony’s Hospital smelled of latex and disinfectant.

Sick people waiting to hear their names and weary family members watched as a towering police officer escorted in a disheveled man with hands cuffed behind his back.

As the officer checked in with reception, the shackled man shuffled over to the water fountain. Using his knee to turn on the water, he bent over. But his lips couldn’t reach the arching stream.

Over his father’s phone, a wide-eyed child neglected his video game to watch the man struggle for a drink. A bearded man with a prosthetic leg stamped with an NRA logo eyed the shackled man cautiously.

When he noticed the man in his custody had wandered away, the 6-foot-4-inch officer moved quickly. But when he recognized the problem, the officer held down the button until the man had drunk his fill.

Then officer Justin Woolverton turned the man over to hospital personnel for a mental health evaluation under the state’s Baker Act.

Woolverton, 28, has been an officer at the St. Petersburg Police Department for two and a half years. His rule of thumb: treat everyone he meets with the empathy and compassion he believes every person deserves.

“I mean, does it suck that we’re constantly stigmatized and hear phrases like ‘f— the police?’ Yeah. But you can’t take anything in this job personally,” said Woolverton. “It’s my job, not my life.”

Woolverton said he always wanted to be a police officer. He and his family moved from Philadelphia to Hillsborough County when he was 14.

Woolverton attended Durant High School in Plant City and received an associate degree from Hillsborough Community College. He’ll be married a year this February, and he plans on going back to school so he can advance in his career.

According to Woolverton, if officers aren’t pushing paperwork back at the station, they’re most likely out on the road.

While on the road, an officer’s duties consist mostly of self-initiated activities, like scanning for DUIs or probing for drug-related crimes. However, those tasks come second to assignments relayed by police dispatch.

Officers usually stay in their assigned district unless directed otherwise. Dispatch then assigns officers to zones, or sectors, to follow up on calls for law enforcement assistance.

After Woolverton stopped for gas and told dispatch he was “10-8” (available for service), he was immediately assigned a TWI (trouble with individual) at Suncoast Center.

The Suncoast Center is a mental health clinic at 4024 Central Ave in District 3, Sector 91.

While making his way through neighborhoods and back roads to avoid rush-hour traffic, Woolverton said a majority of the calls he receives are related to substance abuse and domestic issues.

Another officer met Woolverton at the back entrance of the Suncoast Center, where a social worker led them to an office in the west wing. It turned out that the man that Suncoast was having trouble with has had previous encounters with the two officers.

The social worker who called police said that the man’s girlfriend had recently come back to town, reigniting his former drug habit. Since the officers knew the man, they were able to persuade him to go with them to St. Anthony’s Hospital.

St. Petersburg’s major problems revolve around narcotics, the immeasurable homeless population and auto thefts, said Woolverton. “This city stays very busy.”

Shortly after leaving St. Anthony’s, dispatch assigned Woolverton a “Code 10” (stolen vehicle). He arrived to find several detectives from the Police Department’s property crimes unit. Some, he said, used to work alongside him as patrol officers.

While the detectives waited for forensics staff to arrive and collect evidence from the stolen car, Woolverton patted down the suspect and placed him in the back of his van. Detectives do not have suitable transportation for people under arrest.

After the suspect was put into the system by one of the detectives using Woolverton’s portable laptop, Woolverton took him to the Police Department.

Charged with grand theft auto, the suspect was then stripped of his shoes and personal belongings and given another pat-down before being placed in a police van for transport to the county jail.

When asked what he likes best about being a police officer, Woolverton said, “I like that this job has something different every day. It keeps things interesting.”

Then Woolverton climbed back into van and resumed his 10-hour shift of pencil pushing and patrolling the streets of St. Petersburg.

He chose police work over finance

Wade
Liz Stockbridge | USFSP
St. Petersburg’s biggest problem is drugs, says officer Cameron Wade.

By LIZ STOCKBRIDGE
USFSP Student Reporter

ST. PETERSBURG – A man with a gun was reported walking into a neighborhood grocery on 16th Street S, and police officers at the scene needed backup.

So officer Cameron Wade stepped on the gas.

With his siren blaring and lights flashing, he briskly maneuvered through congested streets, driving over medians and zipping through intersections.

“The fastest I’ve ever driven is 20 mph over the speed limit,” he said calmly.

When Wade arrived at the grocery store 10 minutes later, his colleagues had already resolved the situation.

So Wade, 24, turned around and resumed patrolling the nearby neighborhoods.

Wade graduated from the University of South Florida with a bachelor’s degree in finance but soon realized he didn’t want to do anything with finance.

Wade met his wife, Abby, when he sold her a handgun and later saw her walking her dog in the apartment complex where they both happened to be living. That’s when their love story began.

He always wanted to join the military but chose law enforcement instead because he wanted to stay home with Abby. Police work gives him the chance to serve but still come home every night.

Wade, who joined the St. Petersburg Police Department a year ago, enjoys the freedom of not being stuck in an office all day.

“I feel like I am out actually living my life,” Wade said. “I can make a difference, I can help people, I can do my own thing, I can see the sun, and I’m also getting paid. It’s my job, but it’s also another way to experience life.”

The worst part of his job is getting intense calls and finding himself in harm’s way, he said.

There is no shying away from those situations, especially if he is the primary officer, he said. To remain calm, he focuses on his duties and imagines returning to his wife after his shift.

Wade says he has had an impact in handling domestic cases.

“There have been plenty of domestic situations I’ve been to where people want to turn their lives around, and I think I’ve given them the final push to actually get away from their partners,” Wade said.

But St. Petersburg’s biggest problem, he said, is drugs.

Narcan, a drug that can counter the effects of narcotic overdoses in emergency situations, saves a lot of people, he said, but once the users are saved, they usually end up doing it again.

Wade says the most common overdoses he witnesses usually involve heroin, fentanyl and prescription opioids.

The Addiction Center, which describes itself as an informational web guide for people struggling with substance abuse, says that “nonmedical opioid use is an alarming issue in St. Pete; in 2015, Pinellas County reported 179 accidental drug-related deaths, with 55% of those deaths related to opioid prescription drugs.”

When he is not responding to overdose calls, Wade patrols the streets near Tyrone Square Mall and deals with many retail theft calls.

Wade says he doesn’t like the way police officers are portrayed in the media because it usually focuses on the negative, like police brutality.

He routinely listens to the podcasts of Joe Rogan, a stand-up comedian and mixed martial arts TV commentator, and appreciates Rogan’s recognition and respect for police officers.

“We need them (police) and we need them to be more respected and appreciated,” Rogan, 52, said on a podcast titled “Good Cops and Bad Cops.”

To unwind from his shift, which lasts from 4 p.m. to 2 a.m., Wade listens to rock and metal music, such as the band Periphery, while crossing the Howard Frankland Bridge.

On his days off, he likes to travel with his wife, utilize his annual pass at Walt Disney World, and relax with his dog, Lazarus, and cats, Nala and Sushi.

He wants to remain a patrol officer for a couple of years to become more comfortable in the role but hopes to work for the K-9 unit at some point in his career.

For this officer, it started on 9/11

Christopher Cruz
Katlynn Mullins | USFSP
“People don’t call the police when they’re having a good time,” says officer Christopher Cruz.

By KATLYNN MULLINS
USFSP Student Reporter

ST. PETERSBURG – Christopher Cruz’s dream of becoming a police officer started in 2001.

His father was an officer in New York City when the 9/11 terrorists flew planes into the Twin Towers, killing more than 2,700 people.

When it happened, Cruz said, he talked with his father on the phone, then watched on TV as the towers fell.

“I just wanted to help,” said Cruz, 29.

For three weeks, he said, he didn’t see his father, who spent 43 days in the rubble looking for survivors. There were none, but he found a lot of damaged police badges and handguns.

In 2002, his father retired, the family moved to Tampa and Cruz’s aspirations to become a police officer grew.

After graduating from Embry-Riddle Aeronautical University in Daytona Beach in 2012, he joined the Department of Homeland Security. He transferred to NOAA, the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Association, as a storm tracker, flying planes into and around hurricanes.

In 2016, he started at the St. Petersburg Police Department.

There, he began in street patrol, became a detective and is now back on the street, where he hopes to move through the ranks.

There’s only one police station in the city, Cruz said, and it reminds him of New York. He knows which firefighters are going to show up at scenes. He sees the chief and sergeants around the station. They know each other, and he can go to them if he needs help.

“Other agencies aren’t as close-knit,” Cruz said.

He’s learned fellow squad members’ voices. He knows how they sound when they’re in a tough spot and how they sound during the day-to-day routine.

An officer came over the radio, seeking backup, then canceled her request about 30 seconds later. It wasn’t as serious as she had thought.

“She’s newer and has a habit of doing that,” Cruz said. “If there’s really trouble, you can tell.”

He recalled a fight he had with two suspects during a call. He only had time to whisper one word over the radio before it was knocked away from him, but several cars arrived to help.

Last year, Cruz arrived as backup for a traffic stop and encountered a man named Donald Saunders, who Cruz said looked depressed. He asked what was wrong, and Saunders said his son had died from an overdose weeks before.

“I just want to go to my hangar,” Saunders said.

Since Cruz is a pilot this caught his attention. He remembered hearing about the overdose, but verified — because “you never know” — that Saunders wasn’t lying.

Cruz took over the stop. The two went to Saunders’ hangar at Albert Whitted Airport and talked for hours. They became friends.

When Hurricane Dorian struck the Bahamas, they volunteered with Sol Relief, a local nonprofit, to take supplies to survivors.

Cruz, who lives in Ruskin, discovered he can drive his boat right up to Saunders’ dock in St. Petersburg. They often visit each other on weekends, and Saunders is working with Cruz to buy a used Ferrari.

Other calls, however, don’t always end well.

Cruz said he often sees the same people on the street, and a lot end up dead — whether from drugs or the crimes they’re involved in.

“Unfortunately,” Cruz said. “I know I’m going to get that call.”

One of the solutions, Cruz said, is community policing

Police Chief Tony Holloway has implemented an initiative called “Park, walk and talk.” Officers are required to spend at least an hour every week out of their cars, on foot, involving themselves in the community.

It’s meant to serve as a break from all the chaos and build trust in the neighborhoods the officers patrol.

“You don’t realize it… you see the worst,” Cruz said. “People don’t call the police when they’re having a good time.”

Officers often care for everyone else, Cruz said, and can forget themselves.

But the good outweighs the bad. On his next day off, Cruz invited squad members to his house for a cookout. He has a 2-year-old German shepherd named Apollo and remains close to his family.

“We’re held to a higher standard,” Cruz said. “But we’re human.”

He loves thinking outside the box

Christian Exantus
Decker Lavely | USFSP
As an officer in Bradenton, he once responded to 10 overdoes in one shift, Christian Exantus says.

By DECKER LAVELY
USFSP Student Reporter

ST. PETERSBURG – The police dispatcher’s voice came over the radio: “Unattended death.”

Minutes later, Christian Exantus was inside a shed in a middle-class neighborhood in west St. Petersburg.

The body of an elderly man sat in a beige recliner as Exantus and three fellow officers searched for clues to his identity.

Exantus looked through piles of clothes in a Bealls shopping cart, emptying containers and suitcases. He found small baggies on the floor and table beside the dead man.

“You want to figure out their life story, but that’s not my job,” Exantus said. “The best I can do is the best investigation I can.”

For Exantus, 31, police work wasn’t always the dream.

An Army brat, he was born in Port-au-Prince, Haiti, and his family was always on the move. He left the island when he was 1 and his childhood took him to states like New Jersey, Georgia, New York and Florida.

In high school he wanted to be a TV producer after joining the audiovisual club to be in the same room as his crush. Later, his guidance counselor accidentally put him in a law class and he briefly wanted to be a lawyer.

His first taste of police work came from a criminal justice program during his junior year in Broward County.

Exantus graduated with a bachelor’s degree in criminology from Florida A&M University and has been a police officer for six and a half years. He started at the Bradenton Police Department and joined St. Petersburg police in 2017.

Exantus patrols District 3, which covers west St. Petersburg.

During his evening shift on Nov. 2, Exantus helped investigate the unattended death, responded to an alleged assault and a noise complaint, patrolled neighborhoods and made multiple traffic stops.

“I hate giving tickets. A lot of people are on a fixed income and that one ticket can ruin your whole year,” Exantus said. “I take it into consideration when people have no past tickets. Everyone makes mistakes.”

The best part of his job is seeing things most people don’t see, he said. He loves the investigations and having to think outside the box.

The worst part is being away from his wife and two kids.

“I’m a cop for 40 hours and I’m a regular person after that. I’m a dad and son,” he said.

Exantus said his wife is intrigued by his job, but he joked that he doesn’t like to bring it home because he’s scared she might make him quit.

“My job is the cool and sexy job, her job (as a pharmacist) pays the bills,” he said with a laugh.

His favorite calls are anything high priority like active robberies or shootings. You must move quickly and let your training kick in, he said.

Exantus stressed that self-care is important for a police officer. Sometimes he’ll listen to a podcast before a shift to help calm his nerves.

After his shift he decompresses by listening to rap music and working out. He likes to watch comedies on TV but he doesn’t particularly care for cops shows, although he’s partial to “Brooklyn Nine-Nine.”

In the future, Exantus hopes to become a narcotics detective.

“I played football in Jersey and the boys on my team were into drug dealing and a lot of them died, elite athletes.”

In Bradenton, he said, he once responded to 10 overdoses in one shift.

“I’m not after the college kid with weed. I’m after the person selling cocaine, heroin, the doctors giving crazy amounts of prescription drugs,” Exantus said. “All of these overdoses are happening, and I’m trying to stop that.”

She wanted to be a broadcaster but…

Courtesy St. Petersburg Police Department
Officer Chrisie Lopez (with plaque) was honored for talking a suicidal man off the ledge of a 17th story balcony.

By CARTER BRANTLEY
USFSP Student Reporter

ST. PETERSBURG – “It’s gonna be one of those days,” officer Chrisie Lopez said. And one of those days it was.

When she met a student journalist who would ride along with her on Oct. 28, Lopez started things off with a joke.

“You didn’t wear your running shoes?” she quipped.

It quickly became clear what she meant.

For the next 10 hours, Lopez, 39, moved quickly from assignment to assignment as she patrolled in the district that spans most of northern St. Petersburg.

There was a man with a knife who was threatening to harm himself. Police eventually took him to St. Anthony’s Hospital for a mental health evaluation under the state’s Baker Act.

There was a dispute involving two young men and a young woman over marijuana, money, and alleged threats. It ended unceremoniously two hours later without an arrest.

And there were two domestic disputes, one between a husband and wife and one between a woman and her adult daughter.

Lopez and her fellow officers seemed stretched thin with a lot going on. They seemed to grow fatigued as their shift dragged on.

“In my squad we have at least 13 officers (per shift) usually, but sometimes because of illness or injury (it) is 11,” Lopez said.

A Milwaukee native, Lopez moved to the Tampa Bay area as a teenager and went to USF Tampa as a broadcast major.

She was interested in becoming a sports broadcaster, she said, but was discouraged from doing that by her academic adviser. Women in sports journalism was “just a fad,” the adviser said.

(Doris Burke, Erin Andrews, Pam Oliver, Rachel Nichols and others might have something to say about that.)

Lopez has been a Zumba instructor since 2006. She teaches classes at Suncoast Fitness in St. Petersburg.

In May 2018, Lopez was dispatched to a condominium building where a distraught man was threatening to jump from the ledge of a balcony on the 17th floor.

As a crowd of bystanders gathered below, Lopez went onto the balcony, persuaded the man to leave the ledge and then helped pull him to safety, according to the department.

“I heard countless times from several different officers that Officer Lopez did an outstanding job and that her actions clearly saved the man’s life,” Sgt. Ricardo Lopez wrote in a report quoted by Tampa Bay Newspapers.

For her heroics, she was honored at an annual Pinellas County dinner for first responders.

Following in her father’s footsteps

Officer Butterfield
Courtesy Kelley Butterfield
Most of the problems she polices are substance abuse-related, Kelley Butterfield says.

By EMILY SISELL
USFSP Student Reporter

ST. PETERSBURG – The smell of alcohol was radiating from a 61-year-old man who was threatening his brother with a hammer.

“I don’t drink water because the lord is my fountain,” the man declared.

Officer Kelley Butterfield and three other officers assessed the situation for about an hour, then took the man into custody on charges of aggravated assault.

That was one of the encounters that Butterfield, a first-year officer in the St. Petersburg Police Department, had on Nov. 5 as she patrolled District 3, which covers most of west St. Petersburg.

Her other calls that day included a missing person and everyday traffic stops.

“Most problems in this district are self-initiated,” said Butterfield, “as they almost always have to do with substance abuse.”

Other problems like DUIs, domestic abuse, and drug crimes are what fill the majority of her days.

The 24-year-old officer grew up in Clearwater determined to make her father, Deputy James Butterfield of the Pinellas County Sheriff’s Office, proud.

She admired her father’s eventful career. At the dinner table, he almost always had a story about his day.

After graduating from Countryside High School, Butterfield attended USF St. Petersburg and studied biomedical engineering with a minor in forensic anthropology.

She got an associate degree, then decided to switch careers.

Being an adrenaline junkie led her to attend the police academy at the Southeastern Public Safety Institute at St. Petersburg College.

She graduated from the academy in June 2018 and joined the Police Department in January 2019.

Law enforcement is the career she intends to grow in – just like her dad.

“When you come to the face of fear, you look evil in the eyes and say, ‘I’ve been waiting for you,’” said Butterfield. “This is what I live by as today is not the day to die.”

She rambles through recreation

Becky Gunter
Bridget Burke | USFSP
Her job “truly varies every day,” says Becky Gunter.

By BRIDGET BURKE
USFSP Student Reporter

SEMINOLE – After supervising an Easter egg hunt at the Seminole Recreation Department several years ago, Becky Gunter took the hand of the Easter Bunny to lead him to safety.

That’s when she heard a small voice behind her.

“Daddy, this is the best day of my life,” said a 4-year-old girl.

That assessment, Gunter says, was all the confirmation she needed that she had chosen the right career.

“I feel like a fish out of water at events when I’m not doing anything,” she said.

As recreation director for the city of Seminole since 2012, Gunter and a staff of 16 oversee programs for people of all ages, from daily activities for families to holiday events for the community.

“My job truly varies every day,” said Gunter, 39. “Some days I am working on day-to-day operations and other times I am working on park design. I work with community partners on new events and programs and plan special projects for the city manager.”

Gunter was not always destined for a career in recreation, however.

At the University of West Florida, she got a bachelor’s degree in public relations, advertising and applied communication.

Rather than going home to Leesburg over the summers, Gunter worked in the Student Recreation Department at her school. By her junior year, she had worked in various roles and caught the attention of the director.

She was invited to attend a conference for the National Intramural and Recreational Sports Association, the leaders in collegiate recreation.

After seeing all the potential opportunities, Gunter said, she continued to work hard and learn as much as she could so she would be invited back to the conference the following year.

Gunter worked as often as she could to pay for her education. When she came home for Christmas break during her senior year, Gunter got word of an unpleasant present.

The house she and two roommates were renting was broken into, and everything was stolen. When Gunter returned to school, she knew she had to work harder than ever.

She was rewarded by being invited back to the NIRSA conference. This time, she was hoping to find a way to continue her education after graduating from UWF.

Receiving a financial offer she couldn’t refuse, Gunter pursued a graduate assistantship at the University of North Texas. She spent two years there and received a master’s degree in recreation administration.

Gunter did not like Texas and there were few career advancement opportunities there, so she moved back home to Florida. She worked in parks and recreation departments around the state until she finally landed the Seminole job.

Gunter has spent almost 20 years in recreation and has been in her current position for seven years.

As recreation director, Gunter can now escort the Easter Bunny whenever she likes.

They shake and shimmy to a salsa beat

Dancing in Gulfport
Bridget Burke | USFSP
Carol Rivera (center, in white) has taught dancing in Gulfport for nearly 15 years.

By BRIDGET BURKE
USFSP Student Reporter

GULFPORT – In the ballroom of the historic Gulfport Casino, four chandeliers and a disco ball shine brightly from the ceiling as couples below learn to shake their hips and move their feet to the beat of the faint salsa music playing in the background.

The 5,000-square-foot, 90-year-old, solid-wood dance floor is a perfect place for instructor Carol Rivera to hold her weekly Latin Night.

Every Thursday at 6 p.m., Rivera breaks out her dancing shoes for salsa, bachata and merengue lessons. She has been instructing students in the Gulfport area for nearly 15 years and loves sharing her passion for dance.

As Rivera instructs her beginners, she explains to them that it’s not the steps that matter, rather the way you dance from inside.

“Everything comes from your soul,” Rivera said.

Many of the students share Rivera’s love of dance.

Sipping cabernet in the corner, first-time attendee Carmen Alduende removed her jacket and got ready to salsa.

A native of Puerto Rico and a former resident of Japan, Alduende is no stranger to Latin dancing. She loves to show off her “beautiful skinny legs” during the tango, the dance of passion.

As a military wife with a daughter in the FBI, Alduende dances as if she has no cares in the world. While her family remains rather proper, Alduende said, all she wants to do in life is have fun.

“I love life and I love myself,” she said.

Alduende’s partner for the night, Canadian snowbird Hart Watt, has also been dancing his whole life.

Watt has been surrounded by music since he was a band boy just outside Barrie, Ontario, at the age of 14.

After he helped the band set up, Watt would watch as wives and daughters danced alone, and he began to notice the lack of men on the dance floor. Once he stepped out on that floor, he said, he never looked back.

“I discovered that girls like guys who can dance,” he said.

He attends classes in Gulfport at least three times a week and goes to other dance classes around the area. Watt finds that dancing helps relieve his chronic back pain and helps him celebrate the memory of two lost loves.

His 78th birthday is just around the corner, but Watt said he intends to keep right on dancing.

Her basil is free for the plucking

Mailbox
Tabitha Crosby | USFSP
A laminated invitation is attached to Margaret Eldridge’s mailbox.

By TABITHA CROSBY
USFSP Student Reporter

GULFPORT – It’s a small mailbox surrounded by a bushy basil bunch.

A laminated sign reads “Food is Free,” but the homeowner isn’t growing it for herself.

She’s giving it away.

Margaret Eldridge, a resident of the proudly weird city of Gulfport, is trying to improve her community by offering free food to neighbors and strangers by growing herbs by her mailbox.

Eldridge won’t call herself a horticulturist in any sense, but she enjoys the idea of gardening.

“I’m not a particularly green thumb. In fact, I kill a lot of plants” she said.

Eldridge was inspired by a Miami Shores couple, Hermine Ricketts and Tom Carroll, whose property was a battleground in a six-year legal fight. Their city’s zoning code prohibited them from growing a front yard garden.

That restriction has now been eliminated.

While reading on gardening, Eldridge stumbled across the Food is Free Project.

Food is Free is a worldwide movement about growing or sharing food with others. The hope is to inspire communities to grow self-sustainable ingredients themselves.

The movement was founded in Austin, Texas, by John VanDeusen Edwards, an environmentalist whose focus was finding efficient and eco-friendly options. On his website, he says he hopes the project will spread across the country.

“Never underestimate your power to inspire and affect your community around you. Even the smallest of acts can really ripple out,” says VanDeusen

It was this positive message that prompted Eldridge to start a community Facebook page.

Eldridge does not see herself as the leader of the project in Gulfport, just the messenger.

“I’m not looking to rally and create a huge movement,” she said. “I just created the page in case anyone else wanted to join in.”

Her home sits on a busy street near 49th Street S and 25th Avenue, about a five-minute walk from the Gulfport Mini Mart at 1615 58th St.

Its gets her exited to know that people are reading the sign, plucking the basil, and looking to her neighbors for other options.

However, she wanted to remind people that not all neighbors have joined the project.

“People should look for the sign before taking anything; don’t assume,” she said.

The Food is Free website has a wide range of members willing to offer advice.

Some are experts, some are beginners, but they all are willing to help newcomers. The options to start small seem limitless.

St. Petersburg and Tampa are not associated with the Food is Free movement but they offer alternatives. The St. Petersburg Childs Park Community Library offers a seed library. That means you can “check out” free seeds to grow on your own.

The library says all you need to do is bring a library card, or sign up for one, and check out seeds as you would anything else in the library. They even offer tips and tricks on how to successfully care for each seed packet.

The seeds have been donated by local residents and farmers.

The same rules apply at the Hillsborough Community College, which recently implemented a seed library to the public.

The University of South Florida Tampa and St. Petersburg campuses do not offer seed libraries.