…Many of these hard-working, earnest people come from even further south, Mexico, San Salvador, Guatemala and other places that have sun, sand, and palm trees, but limited prospects.
Their presence, once you leave the paved roads, gives South Florida a distinct, other country aspect. Rain leaves ruts in the roads. Poverty leaves rusted-out pickups on cement blocks in the yards. Look closely and you’ll see the skinny dogs and heart-breaking wide-eyed children. The dogs yapping, the kids giggling.
But poverty can’t crush pride, not all of it. Which is why you’ll see Central American men in ones or twos, strolling up the main roads toward bright lights on Saturday. They’re in freshly washed and starched jeans; so starched that kneeling probably wouldn’t be an option. Their shirts have the rakish arrow piping at the pockets and pearl snaps. The hats, oh the hats, gleam. The crease is just so. The width of the brim flatters the faces…
In this generous, welcoming – and most welcomed – column, Dona Gibbs tells of the migrants from south of the border who help to keep a clean smile on the face of Florida's rich quarter.
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