Light showered down on us like white rain as we walked the main hall (Wireman walked; I limped), and I realized that, for all of the mansion’s grandeur, this part of it was no more than a glorified dogtrot—the kind that separates sections of older and much humbler Florida dwellings. That style, almost always constructed of wood (sometimes scrapwood) rather than stone, even has a name: Florida Cracker.
