Bumps ahead on Easy Street?
As the US population grows older, the needs of retirees are likely to intensify. Early lessons from the 'oldest' county in America.
By Marilyn Gardner
PORT CHARLOTTE, FLA. –
Betty Mische likes adventure. Two years ago, after a lifetime of Minnesota winters and three years of widowhood, she longed for a fresh start. She sold her tan stucco house in St. Cloud. She gave her furniture to her nine children. Then, newly unencumbered, she loaded a 13-inch TV set, family photos, and a few clothes into her little white Mazda and set off for Florida.
Charlotte County, Fla, to be precise – a stretch of land nestled between Sarasota and Naples on the state's west coast. It's a part of Florida so alluring to retirees that this otherwise nondescript county now boasts the biggest share of people over 65 of any county in the United States – no, make that in the world.
Mrs. Mische traded snow for an orange tree in the backyard of her manufactured home – one of 200 in an over-55 community in the town of Punta Gorda. "It's a new life I've created," she exults. "It's wonderful."
If it weren't so wonderful, older people like Mische presumably wouldn't keep coming to Charlotte County. The Census Bureau reports that nearly 35 percent of its residents are retirement age – a number that leaps to almost 44 percent every winter, when as many as 30,000 snowbirds flock here.
All this migration has created a sociological laboratory that serves as an important barometer for the nation. Charlotte County is now working through many issues likely to confront other places in the next 15 to 20 years, as baby boomers retire en masse.
The changes taking place in Charlotte County involve every aspect of the community – social-service organizations, businesses, architects, builders, churches, and schools.
Across the country, the question of how best to meet the needs of older citizens will intensify as demographics change. As communities begin drawing up blueprints for a graying society, they will be undertaking a vast experiment.
"There are literally no societies in the world that have had people living two and three decades after they've retired," says David Colburn, provost of the University of Florida and co-author of a new book, "Florida's Megatrends."
Over the next 30 years, the nation's 65-plus population will more than double, to about 70 million. During that same period, the over-85 group is projected to increase from just over 4 million in 2000 to nearly 9 million in 2030.
The implications are huge. In Florida, where 17 percent of the population is now over 65 years of age, Mr. Colburn estimates that by 2025, a third of the state's counties could have senior populations larger than 30 percent. That will make retirees the single most influential group in state politics, shaping the political agenda and candidates' platforms at all levels of government.
In terms of their wealth and income, Colburn says, retirees could continue to have a salutary effect on Florida's economy. "But in terms of their long-term health needs, I don't think anybody knows what the ramifications are."
Signs of retired life appear everywhere in Charlotte County. Billboards advertise gated adults-only communities. A red bumper sticker reads, "Ask me about my grandchildren." Walk-in clinics and medical plazas dot the main highway. Ads for physicians fill 49 pages in the Yellow Pages. Radio stations advertise life-care centers. A mall opens its doors at 9 a.m. for mall-walkers. And supermarkets sell butter by the half-pound, eggs by the half-dozen, and tiny cans of vegetables for shoppers who cook for one or two.
How did Charlotte County come to be a mecca for retirees?
Locals with long memories trace the county's first influx of retirees back to the late 1950s.
Two large land companies, Mackle Brothers and Punta Gorda Isles Inc., aggressively marketed undeveloped lots to current and future retirees, selling them on contract through salespeople around the country. Bulldozers carved farmland into subdivisions, and buyers gradually began arriving, primarily from the Midwest and Northeast. The first model home opened on Easy Street in Port Charlotte in 1957.
"They were putting up their piece of paradise," says Julie Mathis of the Charlotte County Chamber of Commerce.
For many transplanted Northerners like Mische, who moved here to be near three siblings, relocation does bring elements of paradise. It is a place where stately palms punctuate the blue sky, where seagulls arc above the water, and where residents can find myriad ways to fill leisure hours.
A GENERATIONAL DIVIDE
Some of that leisure time is spent at local malls, one of the few places that older and younger generations cross paths – not always happily.
Generational tensions came to a head one Friday night two months ago at the Port Charlotte Town Center, the largest mall in the county and a popular gathering spot for students.
That evening, says Diane Ganz, the mall's marketing director, nearly 300 teenagers began getting "a little wild." They were disrupting businesses and customers, including retirees, and people were leaving the food court. "We needed to address the issue before it became a big problem," she says.
Now, "No Loitering" signs dot entrances, and large posters on the doors carry the headline "An Open Letter to Concerned Parents." It explains that students are welcome in the mall only if they are shopping or attending a movie.
"The bulk of these kids are really good." Ms. Ganz says. "We just don't want the place to become a hangout."
Teens complain that mall managers removed benches outside the food court and now play country music – a deliberate attempt, they charge, to discourage them from congregating.
Some older people had, in fact, been complaining. "Kids crowding together and racing down aisles of the mall scare them, or make them feel unsafe," says parent Teresa Ciarcia.
"Some of the things going on with today's kids remind them of bad things years ago," Mrs. Ciarcia explains. "They walk past and see metal studs in ears and kids dressed in baggy clothes. That would have been a hoodlum years ago. They think, 'There's a gang of hoodlums.' "
In uncharitable moments, some teenagers call the county Cemeteryland and Old Peopleville. Others students counter with positive comments.
"Elderly people are really sweet to me," says Annie Anderson, a high school senior who works at a bookstore in the mall. "I love their style, their plaids and their suspenders. They're so cute. When they come to my store, they aren't pushy and don't try to hurry me up. They're just nice."
Still, she and three friends, who often meet at the mall after school, say there are few activities for them.
"There's nothing to do here," John Goldsmith complains. "Adults are like, 'Go hang out at the beach, go swimming.' "
But the beach does not measure up to fabled stretches of sand elsewhere in the state. Also, because the beach is located quite a distance away, it's not easy for teens to get there.
Places to hang out
In contrast, many retirees spend time at the sparkling gem in this retirement haven – the Cultural Center of Port Charlotte. The sprawling yellow structure is undergoing a $7 million renovation and expansion. Run by an army of more than 1,000 volunteers, it features a 418-seat theater, rooms for meetings and crafts, a library, and a dining room.
Yet the center, built with taxpayers' money but self-supporting, also symbolizes a generational divide. It prompts some residents to ask: Where is a comparable facility for young people?
"There is a noticeable lack of focus on youth-oriented facilities and activities for our young people," says Ms.Smith-Mooney, mayor of Punta Gorda. At times, she adds, there is also "an intolerance or lack of appreciation by older people of young people" – and vice versa.
When children and teenagers started "aggressive" skateboarding and inline skating, Ms. Smith-Mooney recalls, older residents pressured city staff and the city council to ban them from the park.
Looking at one solution, Smith-Mooney spearheaded a successful effort to build a $400,000 skate park in Punta Gorda.
She doesn't, however, think that building a new youth center would be successful, noting that that teens do not always want supervised or structured activity.
Smith-Mooney and other Charlotte County officials are finding that it isn't always easy to provide equally for retirees and younger residents.
Will seniors support education?
Generational priorities also affect education, a key subject in this year's gubernatorial race. Here, as in many parts of the state, schools are overcrowded and teachers underpaid. Teachers' salaries average $37,425 a year, $800 below the state average. Students under 18 account for 15 percent of the county's population, compared with 22 percent for the state and 25 percent nationally.
"We need to make a commitment to kids in this community," says David Gayler, the county's new superintendent of schools. Yet, he understand that "a lot of folks have moved here on fixed incomes and don't want to pay more taxes."
Nearly 53 percent of property taxes go to school budgets. The county spends $5,680 per full-time student, compared with a state average of $5,820.
At the same time, Dr. Gayler sees signs of progress. In eight or 10 school districts in Florida, he says, residents have recognized the need for more money for education. Some trend-watchers speculate that because many baby boomers are college graduates, they may be willing to pay more for schools, even after they retire.
That will be an ongoing need. Since 1996, when Money magazine first ranked Punta Gorda one of the best small cities in the US, more families have been moving here.
But finding services – and a warm welcome – can test parents' patience. Loryn Dahlen struggled to locate a pediatric dentist for her three children. And one day at the post office, a man told her she didn't belong there with the children. "I just turned around and walked out. I couldn't believe it."
On to part two.
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