Florida’s Mobile Homes

I had never been in a trailer park before, at least that I can remember.  I have however watched certain episodes of Netflix’ Trailer Park Boys, as well as every single episode of Breaking Bad with Walter White in his 1986 Fleetwood Bounder encapsulated meth lab on wheels.  So I readily agreed when my friend Jim asked me to photograph some of his Florida parks.  I accepted because I know that Jim is an enigma to the typically absent mobile home park owner who is driven purely by vast profits derived from curtailing expenditures on park necessities.  He takes extreme pride in his care of the parks, employees and residents.  He visits his parks regularly to maintain the best possible standard of living and he invests in infrastructure and programs for the residents.  He is embarking on programs for reading readiness for smaller children and to make college an absolute and realistic priority.  While I did this for free, I would have paid for the opportunity to photo journal these communities.

 We headed to Florida without any confirmed plan other than a car rented and a long list of parks to visit.  Just two middle aged, moderately experienced family guys on a road trip.  Our three and a half day 320 mile journey began in Miami visiting parks up the east coast to Cocoa, then a leftward turn to Tampa.  We hit a total of 23 parks with an average of 387 trailer pads each.

 The typical single wide mobile home is between 600 and 1,330 square feet, which must make one prioritize with great care the things chosen to have and to keep.  Conspicuous consumption must be redefined when the space to house possessions is so limited.  Every personal effect must have significant meaning or usefulness as there is no room for superfluous and meaningless belongings.  It takes a mere five minutes for a mobile home and its contents to be completely destroyed by fire.

I spoke with the residents and managers of every park.  People who ranged from park lifers in the mobile home parks to the eternal transients and snow birds in the RV parks.  Each had their own life long story as important as our own.  One woman had recently lost her home and all of her worldly possessions to a fire.  Fortunately, insurance proceeds will be enough to buy a used $2,500 replacement home.  It will be devoid of her cherished items turned to ashes, but she will be able to live once again near her children and grandchildren.

 I watched a park manager guardian over children while their parents were at work.  The apparent mutual love, adoration, care and connection between the children and park manager was heartfelt and as close as any nanny would be with her charges.  I experienced tightly knit, highly concentrated protective communities in a very crowded geo footprint bonded by strong nurturing ties resulting in trusting, happy and functional neighborhoods.

 I met an older couple who purchased a used 1972 GM Buffalo bus 35 years ago and have travelled the country in it ever since.  He used to rebuild Acme screw machines in Ohio.  Now retired, he travels the USA from RV park to park with his wife reloading hunting bullets on his portable RCBS A3 reloading press.  They collect stories and memories of their journey, rather than molecular possessions.  Their bus is adorned by the trophies of their journey including numerous photos and deer antler door handles.

 One little boy got very excited when I asked his parents if I could take a picture of him in his complete outdoor Toys “R” Us plastic kitchen.  His pure innocence and extreme happiness were intensely evident as his torqued little fingers and the intensity of the smile on his face were connected as one uncontrollable seizure of pride and joy.

 All was not idyllic however.  One park tour was abruptly interrupted by a police stake out for a breaking and entering robbery for which the suspect was under pursuit.  A woman found a burglar in her trailer stealing her flat screen TV.  The streets were cordoned off as the police laid down portable tire puncture strips to catch the thief.  The police chief and the park manager had a casual and friendly familiarity and their actions seemed precisely well rehearsed to indicate that this was a routine occurrence in this particular park.

 Luxury is a relative concept.  There is as much pleasure in plastic, plaster and concrete for some as there is in gold, crystal and Champaign for others.  I captured images of children playing soccer on the narrow paved paths between homes as happy as anyone I have ever seen.  I spoke with one single mother giddy with excitement as she had just closed on the purchase of a home regaining her independence.

 Of the nearly 1,600 images captured, I whittled them down to 275 workable photos that captured the true essence of what was plainly visible to the naked eye, but more importantly, the essence of the [a]typical daily lives of nearly 20 million Americans who inhabit an estimated 8 million mobile homes.  I was most moved by the sense of community, enjoyment of life and the beauty of that which has been created by the pride and commitment of the residents, management and ownership of these parks.  There are images that you will like, hate, be moved by and not identify with.  That is OK because what I began to realize as I worked on the photos was that this series of images, which was originally for my friend, became more for me.

View gallery here: Florida Trailer Homes