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Taking a Detour to Find the Real Jack Kerouac in Orlando, Florida
Find the little blue bungalow at 1418 Clouser Avenue, and you can feel him: Kerouac when he was young, drinking jug wine under the live oak dripping Spanish moss, cooling off from the fever dream of writing. In 1957, he walked out this door with a $30 bus ticket to New York for the publication of On the Road, and returned six weeks later crowned King of the Beats. In the cramped back bedroom, he pounded out Dharma Bums in ten benzedrine-fueled days on one long continuous scroll (to keep the stream of consciousness streaming). This little house—now an official historic site where the Kerouac Project hosts writers for three-month stays—is where Jack lived when he was most alive—a man, in the heat, in the spirit, in his prime.
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