When six-year-old Sharon Barra arrived in Hollywood, Fla. in 1954 many of her neighbors were Seminole Indians who lived in teepees and chickee huts, dressed in traditional clothing and soon became her friends.

“Their babies were rocked in cradles that were strung between two trees,” she said.

The men wore colorful shirts and the women wore patchwork colorful ankle length skirts. Everyone wore moccasins and they went to school dressed the same way.

“I became especially close with Louise Jumper, Joe Osceola and Steven Bowers. They loved my peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and I loved their fresh-made tortillas. So, we often traded.”

Sharon, born in New Britain, Conn., started out life on the small side, weighing less than four pounds. “My Mom said they put me in a shoe box until I grew a little.”

Sharon Barra
Sharon Barra

When they moved to Florida her parents piled six kids, one boyfriend, a dog and a bird into the car. “The car was so full a cop pulled us over. We must have looked like the Beverly Hillbillies.”

Shortly after arriving in Florida, Sharon’s father was injured in a construction site accident and eventually went to work in a sweater factory. Times were tough for the family.

“From a very young age I was out trying to make money. I put fliers up around the neighborhood and that resulted in nine people hiring me to mow their lawns at a dollar each, babysitting and car washing jobs. I learned the value of a dollar!”

Like many, she fondly remembers the freedom children enjoyed then.

“We were outdoors all day – roller skating, playing ball and tag and riding our bikes. We’d fasten cards to rub against the spokes of our bikes to sound like a motor. At dinnertime we’d go home when we heard our name being called through the neighborhood.”

Her natural love of animals often got her in trouble.

“When I was nine I raised a baby sparrow that had fallen from its nest. When she could fly she lived outdoors and often perched on my shoulder, even when I was playing ball. I fed her hardboiled eggs and cooked spaghetti. She loved it. Later she had babies, but they wouldn’t come near me.”

After finishing school, Sharon went to work as a cashier for the Utilities Department in nearby city of Pembroke Pines, moving up over the years until she became the treasury clerk managing the city’s multi-million-dollar budget. By the time she was 28 she had purchased her first home.

“It was difficult for a single lady to qualify for a mortgage back then even though I’d been working for the City for over seven years and had established credit.”

When she retired in 2004, after 37 years, the City of Pembroke Pines presented her with a plaque naming Dec. 15 as “Sharon Vaughan-Berra Day.”

Three months after retiring Sharon and husband, Jim, moved to the Village of Lynnhaven. They had married in 1995 and Jim, who worked for an architectural firm, passed away in 2007. A breast cancer survivor, Sharon was diagnosed a year before retirement and continued her work with the City through her chemo and radiation treatments.

Volunteer work is an important part of her life and she has been a fixture at the Wildwood Soup Kitchen for close to five years. One day she was told about a stray dog outside the facility. After a check-up by the vet, Sharon took her home and named her Tilly. “I don’t know if I rescued her or she rescued me,” Sharon laughs. Tilly joins a cat and another dog in the Barra household.

Sharon is a very busy person. She clogs with two groups, is a lifetime member of Weight Watchers, does volunteer work, participates in Walk Away the Pounds and has an extensive backyard garden. She and boyfriend, Fred Hamilton, also have a place in Homosassa where they spend time. A former dragon boater, she now enjoys kayaking and the outdoors.

“Many years ago, I took piano lessons and since retiring I bought an electric organ and have played for the past four years. I also have a ukulele that I might take up again in the future when it’s not so easy to get around.”

John W Prince is a writer and Villages resident. Learn more at www.GoMyStory.com.