On the side of Highway 98.
Driving Through Destruction to Sign Books
Normally, Saturdays find me and the family tending tables at the Palafox Market in Pensacola, Florida. We sell mushrooms, herbs, jams, jellies, preserves, and wood products. But in the early morning hours of Saturday, December 8th, 2018, I was driving further east and south, heading for a book signing in Port St. Joe, Florida, followed by another signing in Apalachicola.
My second book, Border Walk, went to print in spring 2018, and I had scheduled these dual signings for earlier in the fall. The events were postponed when one of the two bookstore owners had to fly home to visit a dying relative. When she returned, we rescheduled for December 8th. In the meantime, Hurricane Michael laid waste to much of the area.
During the summer, and before the storm, I took my family camping on the end of Cape San Blas, at the St. Joseph Peninsula State Park. I’ve been visiting and surf-fishing at the park since 1993. A previous hurricane had cut the peninsula in two, but they filled the cut and rebuilt the road to the state park. This time, Hurricane Michael made two deep cuts in the peninsula, and the park may not reopen. St. Joseph Peninsula State Park is now an island.
This would be my second event with both book stores. My first book, Year of the Pig, was published September 1st, 2011. Year of the Pig details a multi-state adventure in which I killed wild boar in ten different states, including Florida. (Fun fact: every county in Florida has feral pigs, along with the accompanying environmental and economic impacts.) It was a bit of a hard sell, getting Dale in Apalachicola, to host an event for a book about killing pigs. Surprisingly, we had great turnout and sales, and she was happy to have me back with Border Walk. And it sure didn’t hurt, that Dale had once lived in Portal, Arizona, one of the tiny communities I walked through and stayed in during my border trek.
The sun rose as I drove west on Florida 20, paralleling I—10, but a bit further south. Downed and broken trees increased as I approached Blountstown. By the time I got to Tyndall Air Force Base, the damage was catastrophic.
The slash pine/longleaf forest of Tyndall Air Force Base
I spent twenty years as a Research Associate with the Auburn University School of Forestry and Wildlife sciences, before resigning to walk the length of the Texas-Mexico border (the subject of Border Walk). Now, I teach forest technology at Lurleen B. Wallace Community College in Andalusia, Alabama. With nearly three decades studying and working in the field of forestry, and having lived through multiple hurricanes (two of which damaged my house) I was familiar with the economic and environmental pain inflicted upon this landscape.
Panama City had sustained significant damage, both to houses and structures, but the impact on Mexico Beach was simply catastrophic. I was just a mile or so in from the beach, and here, the forest acted like a sieve. Most every tree taller than fifty feet had been snapped or blown over. As with Hurricane Katrina and the live oaks of Mississippi or New Orleans, most of the big live oaks were still standing, but defoliated. The base of nearly every tree was wrapped in man-made debris: tin roofing, vinyl siding, insulation, household items, the detritus of a 1,000 plus homes, vaporized by the winds and tidal surge.
Mexico Beach
Highway 98 carried me to the beach where houses and apartments along the bay varied from; relatively intact, to severely damaged, to absent - with only concrete footings marking spots where buildings once stood.
The highway was still rough. Temporary repairs filled holes created by the tidal surge.
I turned inland, arriving at the No Name Café at 8:57 AM, three minutes before the signing was scheduled to begin. It was a little over a three-hour drive from my house bordering the Conecuh National Forest in Covington County, Alabama. Because the café doesn’t open until 9:00 AM, they unlocked the doors for me to carry in books and props from my border trek.
Barbara, who owns the store, had a table waiting. In a few minutes, I was set up and ready to pitch my titles as the morning regulars arrived for coffee and breakfast. Within the first five minutes I sold a book to a grizzled fellow who had ridden his bicycle through many of the towns I had traversed on foot.
My table at the No Name Cafe.
Next, I sold copies of both my books to a young Russian immigrant and her in-law, who had just been laid off from a nearby hospital. The facility was so damaged by Hurricane Michael, that someone decided to permanently close the installation. The newly unemployed woman told me, “I should have plenty of time to read now.” That hurt.
During a lull in the signings I asked Barbara, “It looks like you all came through in pretty good shape?”
She answered, “We only had one inch of water in the building. It took us a couple of weeks to dry out and clean up. Across the road,” she pointed at buildings just a few yards distant, but on the other side of the street, “they are a bit lower and they sustained more water-damage from the surge.”
After two hours of respectable sales I packed up and drove east to Apalachicola. This little town is another gem on the “Forgotten Coast”, as this region of Florida is known. Many of the residential buildings and commercial fish houses on the west side of town still looked pretty rough, but I wasn’t sure if that was Hurricane Michael’s fault. That side of town was pretty rough before the storm.
I arrived at Downtown Books and Purl more than an hour before my scheduled signing. Dale welcomed me with a handshake, but cautioned against a hug saying, “I’ve got a cold, and I don’t want to infect my author!” She also had a table set up, plus a copy of the The Times: Apalachicola/Carrabelle with an article about my book signing. The article featured a quote from Border Walk,
“When confronted with the topography, people, and scale of the borderlands, one should realize that erecting a wall the length of the U.S. - Mexico border can best be described as paranoid, delusional, and grandiose.” - Mark Hainds, “Border Walk”
I accused Dale, “You picked that passage!?”
She pointed to a prominently displayed stack of Becoming, Michelle Obama’s recently released memoir. “I don’t hide my loyalties!” We both laughed. I hadn’t known Dale’s political leanings until recently. There’s little political in my first book, Year of the Pig. I wasn’t nearly as politically active back in 2011. Now that Border Walk is out, there’s no hiding my leftism.
Even so, it’s not the passage I would have chosen. I want to sell my books to liberals and conservatives. Border Walk provides large caliber ammunition for sane border policies, and if a Republican reads my book with an open mind, maybe a little reality will soak in, despite their seeming aversion to minorities, a healthy environment, and fiscal responsibility.
I was satisfied with sales at the No Name Café, but I moved more copies at Downtown Books. Many customers had read about the event in the newspaper and needed little persuasion to make a purchase.
Dale, the longtime owner of Downtown Books & Purl
I had hoped to spur attendance for both signings with a sponsored Facebook post through my author page, under Mark J. Hainds.
About a month earlier I had found a giant fossilized shark’s tooth while hiking/training for my next great adventure. I wrote about the hike and the tooth, and I mentioned my upcoming book signings. The post had garnered more traffic that virtually all my previous writing, with around 6,000 views and over 200 likes. Despite all those hits, the only person who mentioned seeing the article was Dale, the owner of Downtown Books and Purl in Apalachicola.
After I finished my second signing, I drove back through Port St. Joe. A severely damaged house near their museum had disappeared since I passed it earlier in the morning. A giant backhoe had collapsed it into a pile of rubble, to be loaded into one of the scores of black, high-sided dump trunks plying the road between Panama City and Apalachicola.
It had been a long day, starting at 4:30 AM and finishing when I pulled in our driveway at 8:00 PM that evening. As an author aspiring to commercial success (something equivalent to winning the lottery), I’ve done it before and I’ll do it again. My final grades at LBWCC are due December 18th. I have a book signing that evening in Laurel, Mississippi. Followed by another in San Antonio, Texas on the 19th, Alpine, Texas on the 20th, and Edmond, Oklahoma on the 21st. By the time I make it back to Andalusia, Alabama, hopefully, on Christmas Eve, I’ll have another 3,000 miles under my belt, and perhaps, I’ll be a little closer to making my bones as a bona fide author.
If you would like to read more about my walk along the border, please check out my first diary on the subject. I Walked the Entire US-Mexico Border That diary was my first time hitting #1 on the Rec list!
