Zephyrhills embraces dreams, modesty at 100

ZEPHYRHILLS - Among its estimable charms is that Zephyrhills is not a town to put on airs. Not that it couldn't.

Its network of tidy (and sometimes not) neighborhoods surround a downtown core that puts many of its unique delights (a Main Street theater featuring first-run movies leaps to mind, as does nearby Manolo's Italian restaurant) within John Gallagher-approved walking distance.

It has a marvelous, sprawling park where few scheduled events interrupt that for which sprawling parks are best designed: impromptu leisure. It still supports - and this is no average feat - a weekly newspaper. It features, at the promising intersection of Fifth Avenue and Seventh Street, a non-roundabout roundabout, the lore surrounding which remains comically legendary.

And, lest we neglect the town's rural roots, Zephyrhills is famous for its population of feral chickens, the strutting male portion of which reflects the unhurried mood of the town by continuing to announce its welcome of the dawn well past lunchtime.

Plainly, then, as the town founded by Civil War Capt. Howard Barth Jeffries celebrates its 100th anniversary, Zephyrhills has much to crow about. That it generally chooses modesty is to its credit.

The city of good deals

This maintenance of a low profile is in keeping with its unapologetic reputation as a bargain-hunting burg. Zephyrhills teems with retailers that include "warehouse" or "outlet" or "mart" in their names. For designer fashions, the brand-conscious turn to a downtown shop that recycles gently worn finery at chiselers' prices.

This frugality extends to residents' preference in restaurants, where cars jam parking lots beside eateries featuring comfort food buffets for diners who have no trouble translating "AYCE." (It means: Thank heaven for elastic band jeans, because I'm going back for thirds - fourths? - at the ribs station.)

And, without an appointment and often without waiting, it is possible to stroll into David Nelson's Main Street barber shop and, 30 minutes later stroll out, ears satisfactorily lowered and lighter by only $11, tip optional.

Nelson is an example of Zephyrhills' undeniable entrepreneurial spirit. A member of the hometown high school's 2000 graduating class, Nelson sought a profession that would allow him "to get right to work."

He earned a degree from the local barber school and began practicing his trade as another barber's employee, all the while envying the little one-chair shop next door to the movie house. "It looked perfect," Nelson says, "but I never thought I could get it."

Then, serendipity: Emerging from a workout at the now-defunct gym down the block, Nelson saw the barber-in-residence packing up. What're you doing? Nelson wondered. Leaving, came the reply. A quick call to the landlord followed, and, within days and at 23, Nelson was home, a latter-day Floyd to a town that resembles Mayberry after a growth spurt.

That was five years ago, and he's still pinching himself. Zephyrhills: Where dreams come to life. Just ask Tena "With-An-E" Dooling.

Faith, honor and sunshine

Dooling owns and operates Thanks A Latte Cafe, a 2-year-old Internet coffeehouse and eatery up the block and across the street from Nelson's slice of workaday heaven. Dooling adores Zephyrhills' people, especially those loyal souls who make "lunchtime crazy" seven days a week.

"They're friendly; they're nice," says Dooling. "There's just that small-town feel."

Zephyrhills is where a midweek Lenten lunch at the First Presbyterian Church lures nearly 100 hungry worshippers, and where an American flag nearly the size of a tennis court flutters above a meandering walk dedicated to military veterans paved with bricks and volunteers' sweat.

Zephyrhills is where the late-winter air is punctuated by the chatter of migrating birds and the clatter of disks colliding on the covered courts of the downtown shuffleboard club; where cars and trucks brandishing license tags issued in northern blue states choke the parking lots of red state diners where menus promise plates piled high with politically neutral comfort food; and where homes on wheels gather in snug jumbles in parks with unprepossessing names, their owners soaking up copious amounts of Vitamin D, scarcely aware they owe at least some of their good fortune to Capt. Jeffries' insight.

Zephyrhills is also where the town's one-and-only 100th anniversary celebration arrives and, instructively, descendants of the founding families are content to shrink into the background. Chris Drews, past publisher of the Zephyrhills News and an organizer of this very special Founders' Day celebration, concedes he is lost for an explanation.

What's to explain? Unlike its proud cousin up the road, ever ready for its Southern Living moment, Zephyrhills never has been about elbowing its way into the spotlight. Even on this eventful weekend, the same applies to the founders' offspring - what's the fuss? - and the 100-year-old town may be better for it.