Follow-up

My frustration at the paucity of online images of the Alfred I. Dupont Building in Miami -  the beautiful art deco skyscraper in which my Florida National Bank department was headquartered for several years - finally led me a few days ago to search through the archives of Paco family photos in an effort to discover whether I, myself, had taken any pictures of the interior of the building. 

To my everlasting discredit, it appears that I didn't; at least, I haven't been able to find any, yet. I did, however, find some other pictures from that era that my long-time readers may find amusing or otherwise interesting. Circa 1983.

Here, for example, is yours truly, complete with cheesy mustache and sideburns, in a completely unstaged and unposed shot, pretending that he has to be somewhere on time.

Here's the same fellow, looking rather as if he'd just received news that a crosstown rival had been rubbed out (or, more realistically, as if he'd just been notified that it was dinner time).

And this is Mrs. Paco, on a spectacular "good hair day", hefting Number One son.

Ah, the good old days! Lost and gone forever, I'm afraid. Still, very gratifying to have lived through them.

Update  Eureka! Mrs. Paco found another stash of old photographs in the back of a cabinet, and I found a few pictures of the Dupont Building boardroom taken by myself and one of my co-workers. The color photos have faded into a sepia tone over the last 40 years, but that sort of gives them a classic look, I think.

Here I am, sitting at my "desk" - the boardroom table. Stage left (not visible in the picture) are the windows, through which I once witnessed a crowd of angry Haitian refugees trying to torch their consulate, around the time of the fall of Baby Doc Duvalier.

This is a shot of the other end of the table.

Must have been "bring your family to work" day.

Mrs. Paco and #1, again.

Well, that concludes this stroll down memory lane. Thanks for joining me. My only regret is that I can't invite you all to step around the corner to the little pâtisserie, which used to serve the most scrumptious napoleons, or to the Cuban restaurant a little ways up the street for boliche con arroz, and maybe some flan and a cafezito for dessert.