This fine beard belongs to John, whom I met while he was working on a demolition crew in Bonita Springs. John proudly informed me he was born in Bonita 57 years ago. He has never lived anywhere else. Same as his older brother and younger sister.
Bonita Springs is a bit schizophrenic. It can't decide if it is (or wants to be) a winter playground for wealthy folks fleeing northern winters, or Old Florida, where people like John live their lifetimes.