As we got further and further away, it (the Earth) diminished in size. Finally, it shrank to the size of a marble, the most beautiful you can imagine. That beautiful, warm, living object looked so fragile, so delicate, that if you touched it with a finger, it would crumble and fall apart. Seeing this has to change a man.
James B. Irwin, Apollo 15
The one constant throughout all the years has been baseball. America has rolled by like an army of steamrollers. It has been erased like a blackboard, rebuilt, and erased again. But baseball has marked the time. This field, this game, is a part of our past. It reminds us of all that once was good and what could be again. -James Earl Jones, Field of Dreams
Far better it is to dare mighty things, to win glorious triumphs even though checkered by failure than to rank with those poor spirits who neither enjoy nor suffer much because they live in the gray twilight that knows neither victory nor defeat. -Theodore Roosevelt (1858 -1919)
Like many people in Tampa, I have taken for granted that I can get a great loaf of La Segunda’s Cuban bread just about anywhere in town. I certainly have eaten my share of it over the years–on the famous “Cuban sandwich,” and of course, in the morning, a Cuban tradition of Cuban toast with a cup of café con leche.
Who was Gasparilla? The answer to that depends on who you ask. It is one of the first things people want to know when they come to our town for the annual Gasparilla Invasion and Festival. There have been many theories over the years, and someone back in time penned the following poetic explanation.
La Rosa Blanca
(The White Rose)
I cultivate a white rose, in July as in January.
For the sincere friend who gives me his open hand.
And for the cruel one who tears out the heart that gives me life, I cultivate neither thistle nor weed, I cultivate a white rose.
Jose Martí, 1853-1895)