A Week With The Parents

 7/3/2025 - 7/10/2025

The past week my (Oliver) parents visited. They flew in on Thursday and got to Flamingo pretty late. We met them at the lodge, ran to the room trying to avoid mosquitos and shared a key lime pie that Opal and I, mostly Opal, made.  The next day was the fourth of July, the three of us went up to Miami but Opal had to work. My parents got a hotel that was right in the heart of south beach. We checked in then spent some time swimming. That evening we walked to an Italian restaurant and got pasta and then went back to the beach to watch fireworks. The firework launching people launched the fireworks off a barge and you could see the reflection of the fireworks in the water, it was a good firework show. Later, Opal arrived, around midnight, and we took a walk around south beach looking at all the drunk people. 

In the middle of the night, I awoke to smoke and an alarm going off. The alarm was quiet, and I was the only one out of the four of us that noticed it. I quietly peaked out in the hall and indeed it was smokey, there were police officers by the room the smoke was coming from but everything seemed to be under control, so we all went back to bed. 

The next day Opal woke up very early to drive to the airport and us Koenigs headed towards Naples. Naples is on the opposite side of the Florida peninsula to Miami and most of the drive is through protected swamp. In the middle of this drive, we stopped at a visitor center and saw alligators. The culture in this part of the everglades is far less national park and far more ‘gladesmen’. There is a “Skunk Ape Research Facility” and more airboat tours that you could imagine. I think the qualifications needed to work here are doing meth. After getting to Naples, we went to a nature conservancy which was alright but weirdly empty. It kind of felt like when you are one of the last tables at a restaurant before it closes and all the employees are cleaning up and looking at you like ‘why are you still here’. Except in our case, it was two in the afternoon.

We spent the next three nights in Naples. While there, we visited the five beaches recommended in our guidebook, we caught two excellent sunsets, we went to five thrift stores, I bought zero things, and we ate three tasty dinners. We all liked Naples, but my mom especially thought it was nice. After Naples we drove north to Orlando where we met up with our friend Linda and Lindas eight-month-old son Emerson who happens to be the cutest baby ever. We first met Linda on a vacation, and she had visited us in Missouri, so it was cool to finally see her in her home state. The visit with her concluded with a multi course Vietnamese feast that was absolutely delicious. Thanks for everything Linda. 

From Orlando we drove back to Flamingo and got in around 11pm, I was in the shower when the power went out. The next day was a very busy and stressful day at work but my parents had some fun so I am going to let my dad tell you about that. 

From Fred

“If people bring so much courage to this world the world has to kill them to break them, so of course it kills them. The world breaks every one and afterward many are strong at the broken places. But those that will not break it kills.”  Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms

After earning a journalism degree followed by decades of writing for newspapers and magazines on a daily basis, I’ve finally landed my first big break: getting invited to be a guest writer on Opal and Oliver’s blog.

Since the subject matter is Floridian in nature, I feel I should channel Hemingway. I could do this by drinking daiquiris and getting in a fight, or writing as a normally would, then telling AI to revise as Hemmingway. Fortunately, I consider both methods beneath me so I opted just to open with a Hemingway quote then revert to Fred.

The Everglades have been like a coy mistress for the Koenigs for throughout our beleaguered lives. (How’s that, Ernest?). The first family trip entered on the north end via Everglades city. Two children, one wife, two canoes. Two nights of camping in the backcountry on a very tiny beach head. Being the (at the time) dominant male, I took the smallest of our lot in my canoe. I had the back seat, and probably weighed three times what Oliver did at the time, as he was nine years old. This made the front of our canoe point skyward, problematic in the breeze. We took too much water, a good thing as racoons chewed a whole in the bottom of some of the water jugs, draining them.

We returned the Everglades in 2021, this time approaching from the south. The plan was to canoe camp the first night at East Cape, the second at Northwest Cape and the third at East Clubhouse, all beach sites. The first day of paddling and night of camping went as planned. We awoke the next morning to a strong breeze and big waves. We made it as far as Clubhouse Beach, where we paused after a hard fight with waves no one should face in a canoe. Sharing the beach head with a bask of crocodiles, we opted for a water rescue.

You would think these experiences would discourage a return. Au contraire, Oliver had not disavowed the river of grass, he had moved there for the summer with his beloved Opal. It had been more than a month since I had seen him. I journeyed there to Ann to see if in that amount of time he had fully transformed into Florida Man.

We embarked on this trip with some trepidation. I knew Oliver was well aware of Florida heat and mosquitos before he signed on for the summer. And I know that he shares my disdain for exaggeration. So his description of the mosquitos was horrifying. But I thought I could handle it. I won’t attempt to go into description of how it feels to have your face and neck covered as soon as you step out of the car, because the experience truly defies description. Panic inducing is about as best I can muster.

Immediately after meeting with Oliver we escaped from the Everglades and had a nice week in Florida which I assume Oliver will refer to in his blog, as my assignment requested coverage of Thursday and Friday.

Upon returning late Thursday night I received the key from the late check-in box for the room. A few seconds later the power went out. Checking into the room was a challenge, as we were unfamiliar with it and it was completely dark. We found the bed and slept until sunup. Power was on and off inconsistently the rest of the time we were there, and when it was on it was only in certain outlets, and at a minimal level.

We’re in the Everglades in July with a power outage knocking out air-conditioning and refrigeration, at a time when people who had been there for years were saying they had never seen the mosquitos this severe. I’ll say this of the staff at Flamingo in the Everglades: Every single person I met was exceptionally kind and helpful. I also say this of the staff on that particular day: nowhere outside of a maximum-security prison will you encounter people who are more fraught with regret about decisions made in their life that resulted in them residing at their current zip code.  

Ann and I did rent a skiff and took it into the backwater. One might think mosquitos would be worse there, but they were actually much better. They weren’t as extreme anywhere as they are in lodging area. Mosquitos know where to go for dinner. 

Before saying our final farewells, Ann and I felt compelled to get out on this bay we had been viewing through a glass window pane, so we got her stand up paddle board that she loaned to Oliver at the beginning of summer. As we carried it from the porch the mosquitos had already found us. Taking it down the very short walk to water, my legs were covered with mosquitos so they looked black. I had them in my ears, nose and eyes. It was maddening. For some reason they were on me, not Ann. When we got to the water I just jumped in. It was instant relief. Ann said my hat was still covered, but I didn’t care. I swam out and she paddled out for a ways, then we paused to catch our breath.

I looked to shore, and a large crocodile, I would say maybe 12 feet long or so, came out of the bushes and into the water. My read on his movement wasn’t a “People are disturbing me, I’m going to leave,” but rather, “There’s prey, I’m going hunting.” He seemed more focused toward us than away from us as he slipped into the water and disappeared.

I yelled, “Large crocodile, get to shore.” Ann was standing on the paddle board, I was in the water. The breeze was against us and the tide was going out. As my triathlon records will show, I’m a slow swimmer, and was wearing sandals and a long sleeve shirt. But we made haste for shore as best we could. Ann hadn’t seen the crocodile but was trying to stay between me and it, while I was imploring her to just get to shore. She made landfall a bit before me, and I asked her to make noise, and she did a fine job of yelling and smacking the paddle on the water. We rushed back through the mosquitos, put the paddle board away, and then were able to leave feeling like we had full Everglades experience.