From Florida Boy to Florida Man
Get the Point!
45 years ago this week, the Hobbs family moved to Tallahassee, my mother's hometown and the home of Florida A&M University, my parents' alma mater, from our previous home in Oxon Hill, Maryland.
Hobbs circa 1980 and 2025
My father, Charles Sr., was planning to retire from the Army and almost did so in Maryland, but he chose to return to his alma mater to lead the FAMU ROTC unit at the behest of his FAMU classmate (and my foster uncle), President Walter Smith.
A few things stand out as clearly in my mind today as they did that week long ago:
1. It was HOT! Yes, it got hot in Maryland, but I had never experienced heat so hot that I could literally see steam rising off of the pavement! 45 years later, I still haven't adjusted to the heat/humidity…😂
2. I was nervous about moving from Maryland and leaving all of my friends and true to a child's mind, I was apprehensive about whether I would make new friends. My fears quickly subsided as the very first folks I met were my new next door neighbors, Quinton Hubbard and Brian Hubbard, followed by Tommy and Elbert Griffin whose father, T.J. Sr., had grown up with my Dad in Miami; Jacque Herring (son of my dad's ROTC "boss" Mayre Herring), and finally Junious and Jon D. Brown! In short order, I was playing ball and Star Wars with these dudes while the boxes from the moving truck were still being delivered and unpacked!
By the end of July, I also had become friends with a bunch of other boys my age living nearby or playing at Jake Gaither Park including Howard Conoly, “Rob Bob” Mungen, "the twins" Ronnie and Reggie Williams, Jubie Robinson, Owen Paul (RIP), Al Lawson, Billy Oates, Cedric Maxwell, Clayton and Chari Clark, Gary “G-Mac” McPherson, and another who would soon become one of the best friends I'd ever have—the late Christopher Henry, who I met while swimming at the Walker-Ford Community Center pool near FAMU’s campus.
Dad circa 1980. This photo still hangs in the FAMU ROTC building (Howard Hall)
3. The term "heat stroke" was introduced into my vocabulary—and every day because of the extreme heat, I was forced to spend the mid part of the day watching the CBS "stories" with my Mom or listening to WANM (shout out to Joe Bullard and "GT" Gerald Tookes ). I still remember that "The Breaks" by Kurtis Blow and "Heartbreak Hotel" by the Jacksons were in heavy rotation that summer!
4. I met Mr. Matthew Estaras, my mother's old principal at FAMU High, who was a Morehouse alumnus and Kappa Man. While they caught up on the years since Mom had graduated from "Da High,” he noticed me staring at this giant "Be Somebody...Be a Morehouse Man" poster in the hallway near his office. Estaras smiled at me and said "maybe someday, you will become a Morehouse Man." Indeed, I did, Sir (RIP).
5. In addition to the heat, the following things would soon grow to annoy me as they were in plentiful supply: lizards, mosquitoes, and fried fish! That long hot summer, it seemed that every single relative or parental friend’s home had a black skillet, grease, and some mullet, trout, or bream being fried—with a pot of hot bubbling grits on the stove’s other eye. I ate so much fish that by the end of 1980, I decided “no more” and stopped eating it altogether 😂. This caused a great deal of “what kind of Hobbs/Williams don't eat fish” comments from my elders, but to my parents’ credit, they would respond “the boy doesn't eat fish” and the inquiry from their siblings and cousins would stop—even if the side eyes continued 😂.
6. I experienced death for the first time; my Grandmother Helen Williams (Huntley) died within weeks of our arrival. My Great Grandparents, Charlie and Irene Williams, died within the next 18 months. Last, our dog, a beautiful Black Labrador Retriever named Caesar, was hit and killed right before my eyes when he darted from my grasp while chasing a squirrel into Springsax Road 20 months later. Those experiences led me to a level of stoicism about death that remains to this very day...
7. Speaking of death, the infamous Atlanta child murders were a constant presence on the evening news during the Summer of 1980 and I remember that those events, coupled with my new Tallahassee friends always saying “you better watch out for Richie Mo,” removed my 8-year old naivete about the world being a safe place. Richie Moore, allegedly, was a creepy Tallahassee child molester who supposedly lived in the wooded areas near Jake Gaither Park and while I still don't know whether he was a real man or myth, the admonitions from my new friends and cousins Lee-Lee, Eric, and Detrail Williams were more than enough to make sure that I made it home as soon as the street lights came on in the evenings!
Picture of Quinton Hubbard, my first friend in Tallahassee, and me circa 2015 at the SpelHouse Homecoming tailgate
While I know that this post is a bit of nostalgia, I drafted it in light of recent events, especially the passing of Griffin family matriarch and Strong & Jones Funeral Home owner Linn Ann Griffin, got me to reminiscing about how what I feared, moving down South, became a blessing that remains to this day! The blessing stemmed from the fact that I was able to grow up closer to all of my Hobbs, Williams, and Joyner families across the State of Florida, gained a host of new "FAMUly" members across the city, and I was raised in an unapologetically Black environment to respect the history, culture, and traditions that have sustained our families and our race in ages past—and will continue to sustain us into the future no matter how bleak the national picture seems with regards to race and systemic racism.
Lest I forget…