Tales in the Storm

Skeeter has owned the Last Chance for 23 years. The bar itself dates back to the early Forties. The clientele is mixed -- from locals in a neighboring trailer park to tourists on their way to the Keys to bikers who make the Last Chance a regular stop during weekend runs. Indeed it is bikers who are most identified with the Last Chance these days, but Skeeter says he doesn't believe they had anything to do with the troopers' decision to cut off access to his place during the storm. "They just decided it would be easier to turn people around up there than to the south of me," he says. "I tried to talk to them about it. I walked up there, but they were not in a conversational mood. They were under duress themselves, which I can understand. But what I don't understand is why they couldn't be a little more accommodating."

Besides, Skeeter adds for good measure, there's not a darn thing wrong with bikers. Not long ago about 1000 of them came through his bar during a charity event and there wasn't a hint of trouble. "Put this in the paper," he commands. "A thousand men peed in that bathroom over there and not a single one tossed a cigarette butt into the urinal. They're good men."

By 10:00 a.m. Friday morning the troopers finally agree to move their roadblock south of the Last Chance so people can get to the bar. Customers slowly begin to trickle in and order beers. One of them is from the trailer park next door. He defied mandatory orders to evacuate.

Didn't the police try to force him out? "They never could," he replies. "My guns are bigger than their guns." When he learns he's talking to a reporter, he hastily finishes his beer and leaves.

Derek Hayward, a reporter with Channel 7, stops in to survey the scene, and Skeeter tries to persuade him to do a story about how the troopers blocked off the road the night before. Hayward passes.

The real stories, as everyone knows, are farther south.