THE FLORIDA FAMILY ROAD TRIP : 1960’s

An exhibition of creative photography takes viewers on a time-travel trip to Florida’s “golden age of roadside attractions” 1960-1970. Framed images are 30″ X 40″ or 24″ X 30″. The show includes (6) original 24″ Dioramas including vintage scale model die-cast cars that illustrate how the images were shot on location at the actual Florida locations. Framed production images explain the photographic technique called “Forced Perspective”. A high-quality table top book includes the images together with Bob Gibson’s entertaining memoir.

Book Cover
Becoming Florida Man

The Photography Show

1960's Florida Road Trip
Florida Attractions
Swampy World's Largest Gator
Orlando, Florida
Florida Road Trips
Civil Rights Movement Lincolnville St. Augustine 1964
Dr. Martin Luther King
Andrew Young
First Baptist Church 
Lincolnville Museum and Cultural Center
Silver Springs Florida
Florida Drawbridge
Florida Road Trip 1960's
Florida Road Trip
Bills Sailfish Marina 1960
Stuckey's 1960's
Jupiter Lighthouse
Weeki Wachee Springs
Vintage McDonald's Sign
Vintage Car Show
Die-Cast Photography
Twistee Treat
Bob Gibson Florida Photographer

Excerpts from the book

U.S. Highway One was packed with cars like ours: chrome and winged land yachts.  Family wagons boasted rocket shaped fins reflecting our optimism of the New Frontier and coming Space Age.

Our favorite TV show, Bonanza began with a singing commercial, 

“See the U.S.A. in a Chevrolet.”  School was out and it  and time to see Florida during the hottest time of the year, from a car without air conditioning!

I was in charge of spotting scenic attractions.  What we saw instead were an awful lot of cows. 

“Everybody simmer down,” Dad warned.  He found a Howard Johnson’s and we piled into a booth with an orange mica table, orange vinyl bench seats and a Wall-O-Matic Jukebox for Pete and I to abuse.  We punched in the numbers for Elvis Presley and then a joke song by an Australian who sang, 

“Tie Me Kangaroo Down Mate” a hilarious ditty about surviving the dangerous Australian outback.  How hard could that be after Florida?

Mr. Howard Johnson was a genius. The hot dog buns were grilled with tons of butter.  The placemats had the mapof Florida we needed most: roads and every major attraction colorfully illustrated so families could plan their holiday.  Glass Bottom Boats. Leaping Porpoises. A pyramid of women in bathing suits riding water skis, A mermaid swimming in a spring? 

Florida was a state of amazing options! This was going to turn out like “Hoss Cartwright” said on TV, “The Best Vacation Ever”!

Six Gun Territory

The billboard read, “Ride The Train or Sky Ride!” 

The Sky Ride was our unanimous favorite. 

We squeezed into a gondola attached to a precariously frayed cable . My younger brother and I slid under the rusted safety bar that would keep us from falling hundreds of feet below into the Ocala National Forest.

The truth is, the ride was boring…until we approached  the  elevated wood tower that would be our point of departure.

“Welcome Partners!” 

A fully dressed cowboy grabbed the coach and flipped up the safety bar so we could climb down to a real cowboy town. 

But  then, an angry face-painted warrior jumped onto the platform to

kill us and take our crew-cut scalps. 

The cowboy spun , pulled a long handled six shooter and

blasted the red devil with a deafening blast.

 His target staggered and flipped off the platform into a pile of hay.

Hoss Cartwright was right, we had come to the right place for fun!

At the concession stand, Pete and I each got a Mini Spy Camera. This amazing device, made in Japan, disappeared into the palm of your hand and came with tiny canisters of film nearly impossible to load.  I didn’t know it at the time, but I was looking at my future.  Not a spy. A travel photographer!

At Six Gun Territory, I recorded it all: Can Can Dancers flirting with Dad. The Sheriff who came into the saloon and

asked Pete if he was old enough to drink that Root Beer. A lot of dead Indians that were shot and fell from the balconies into the dusty street.

I wasn’t fooled by the   well -placed hay piles that softened their fall so they could repeat the feat every hour on the hour. I believed that I was no average tourist.

For information, email bobgibsonphoto@gmail.com