In 1947, Helen Tooker, a free-spirited artist with a gypsy soul, loaded her paints, brushes and four teen-age kids into the back of an old panel truck on Cape Cod, and drove to Florida. Why? Darned if I know. She didn`t have a dime in her pocket or a single friend here, but that was just like my mother. We moved to Largo where my three brothers found work, and my mother and I scoured the countryside looking for painting jobs of any kind. Fate led us to Cedar Key where Bessie and Loyal Gibbs had recently taken over the Island Hotel. When we arrived, they were trying to convert a storage area into a barroom. Bessie and my mother hatched a plan. For room, board and some cash, we would stay and work our magic in the bar of the old hotel. 
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Every inch of available space in the bar had to be used wisely. Helen knew the primary need was to create the illusion of space. We had to make walls move out-or you might say, she had to paint space and air into the cramped, dark room. For compact seating, carpenters built a continuous narrow bench attached to the walls opposite the bar and across the ends of the room. The bench back and seat were covered with red leatherette, a product that could tolerate spills easily. Small tables could be moved along this bench as needed to hold ashtrays and drinks. Masonite panels were attached to the walls above the bench to make a surface for painting murals. One panel was reserved for the centerpiece over the bar where old Father Neptune and his pretty mermaids have now resided for 65 years. 
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Helen made watercolor sketches of interesting spots around Cedar Key to be incorporated into the design. To enhance the illusion of space, she chose soft pastel colors that disappear in distant horizons. Subtle, elusive blue/grays create the hazy sky and water background for the entire mural, and fluffy clouds hanging in the skies above literally create the air and space the bar needed. At one end of the room she painted the humpback bridge known then as "Hug Me Tight and Kiss Me Quick." The old fishing pier, built with heavy wooden posts, planks and railroad ties, stretches into the gulf the way it did before the fire destroyed it. So along with space and air, the mural also created time and recorded history. 
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When the bar was finished, Helen painted the square wooden tables in the dining room, decorating them with maps of local islands. Unfortunately, no tables remain. On the second floor, she painted the walls of the long hall to lighten and brighten the area. For this very large surface she used a single color, a red-brown sepia tone applied with sponges and minimal brushwork. For herself, she painted several watercolors of local scenes and events. She sold many of these, but her family still has some. I have one she called "Monday Morning Court" where Mr. Raddie Davis, the mayor, is hearing the pleas of young men who had gotten into trouble over the weekend. Several residents at the time are recognizable characters in the painting. A few years ago, my brother Harry from Merritt Island, and I from St Petersburg, met for a reunion in Cedar Key. The ravages of time, wind and water, to say nothing of the bullet holes in her work, disturbed us. I swear I heard Helen`s ghost nagging, "Clean up this mess! I can`t do everything myself!" I called Andy and Stanley Bair, present owners, and volunteered to do some restoration. They were happy to accept and I`ve been back to work on the paintings several times since. This last weekend I finished what I could do. They looked good, then I heard that voice saying, "It`s about time you did something. I can`t wait forever, you know!"
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