tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-479611320677628532011-04-21T15:10:31.095-04:00A place where the "old Fort Pierce" community, the scattered and thinning ranks of those of us who remember Fort Pierce when . . . can get together in blog space.Lucie Rivershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04173389121314515460noreply@blogger.comBlogger11100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-47961132067762853.post-40146794436237889192008-04-03T06:25:00.000-04:002008-04-03T06:31:33.696-04:00I remember when the whistle at the power plant blew at noon to signal it was time for lunch and to allow one to check the clock's time. I remember when the stores closed on Wednesday afternoon so we could go fishing. I remember when you knew everyone you met on Second Street on Saturday.<br /><br />About the noon whistle--Mrs. Miller, my teacher, told us that on Armistice Day, when World War I ended, the whistle blew at 11:00 o'clock and brought everyone into the street to give thanks.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/47961132067762853-4014679443623788919?l=fortpiercerememberwhen.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Lucie Rivershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04173389121314515460noreply@blogger.com0