From the second-story porch of the Palm Harbor Inn, Jennifer Spencer leaned back in a folding chair and watched as her 5-year-old granddaughter plunged a wood chip into a sun-dried cockroach. “Ellie!” Jennifer gasped. “Really?” Crouched low on two bare, dirt-covered feet, Ellie dipped her nose toward the concrete. Her brown curls hung loose in her face, but the kindergartner kept the focus of ...