xml version 1.0 encoding UTF-8 standalone no
record xmlns http:www.loc.govMARC21slim xmlns:xsi http:www.w3.org2001XMLSchema-instance xsi:schemaLocation http:www.loc.govstandardsmarcxmlschemaMARC21slim.xsd
leader nam a22 u 4500
controlfield tag 008 d19791998flu r 000 0 eng d
datafield ind1 8 ind2 024
subfield code a T06-v25_2011
1 0 245
Tampa Bay history.
n Vol. 25, no. 1 (2011).
Tampa, Fla. :
b Dept. of History, College of Social and Behavioral Sciences, University of South Florida.
Tampa Bay Region (Fla.)
Tampa Region (Fla.)
University of South Florida.
Dept. of History.
t Tampa Bay History.
xml version 1.0 encoding UTF-8 standalone no
mods:mods xmlns:mods http:www.loc.govmodsv3 xmlns:xsi http:www.w3.org2001XMLSchema-instance xsi:schemaLocation http:www.loc.govmodsv3mods-3-1.xsd
mods:relatedItem type host
mods:identifier issn 0272-1406mods:part
mods:detail volume mods:number 25issue 1series Year mods:caption 20112011Month January1Day 11mods:originInfo mods:dateIssued iso8601 2011-01-01
R K-P, E S F C H, T B H C A H, A E A L, U Sr F L Sf Cf D F S C M I. Gn, Pr.D., B R E Df, U Sr F L Sf Cf D F S C E B Jf D, Pr.D. University of Florida J M. Dr, Pr.D. Florida Southern College P D, Pr.D. University of South Florida Mt J, Pr.D. Florida State University R K, Pr.D. University of Tampa J Kfr, Pr.D. State of Florida, Department of Environmental Protection J Mfr, Pr.D. Florida Museum of Natural History G R. M, Pr.D. Florida Studies Program, University of South Florida S P, Pr.D. St. Augustine Historical Society Cr Rnb, Pr.D. University of South Florida A Sr, Pr.D. University of South Florida D Wr Tampa, FloridaT ampa Bay History (ISSN: 0272-1406) is published annually through a partnership between the Tampa Bay History Center and the Florida Studies Center at the University of South Florida Library. The journal is provided complimentarily to Tampa Bay History Center members who belong at or above the Supporter membership level. Copies of the current issue of Tampa Bay History may be purchased directly from the Tampa Bay History Center at a cost of $19.95, plus shipping. Back issues (beginning with the 2007 issue) will also be available for purchase. The journal will be published simultaneously in print and electronic format. The electronic version of the journal is available at www.tampabayhistorycenter.org. Inquiries in regard to submission of essays for publication should be directed to: Editor, Tampa Bay History c/o Tampa Bay History Center, 801 Old Water Street, Tampa, Florida 33602. Any questions regarding book reviews should be directed to: Book Review Editor, Tampa Bay History, c/o Florida Studies Center, University of South Florida, 4202 East Fowler Avenue, LIB 122, Tampa, Florida 33620. The content and views expressed within the essays and reviews in Tampa Bay History are the sole responsibility of the contributors and are not necessarily the views of the Tampa Bay History Center, the University of South Florida, and/or the staff and editorial board of Tampa Bay History.T B HPublished through a partnership between the Tampa Bay History Center and the University of South Florida Libraries Florida Studies Center
V Published through a partnership between the Tampa Bay History Center and the University of South Florida Libraries Florida Studies Center
ii T B H CV F Er ................................................................................................ f A C Brr: T T B A r Sn C ......................................................................... t G J B Cb H O: T Rf S S .................... T Ar B, R, Dbb, r Cb: T t ........................ Tf P B Rfb .................................................................................................... Cover: Cover of the National Football Leagues Pro magazine, commemorating the inaugural season of the Tampa Bay Buccaneers. The year 1976 was an eventful one for Tampa, and it is chronicled by Travis Puterbaugh in this issue. Tampa Bay History Center CollectionTampa Bay History Volume 25 Tampa Bay History Center
B iiiB Rfb Virga and Wright, Florida, Mapping the Sunshine State through History: Rare and Unusual Maps from the Library of Congress. By Barnet Schecter ............................. 59 Gyure, Frank Lloyd Wrights Florida Southern College. By Theodore Trent Green ..................................................................................... 61 Morrison, Cross Creek Kitchens: Seasonal Recipes and Reflections. 2nd ed. By Andrew T. Huse .............................................................................................. 63 Revels, Sunshine Paradise: A History of Florida Tourism. By Nicole Cox ................. 65 Belleville, Salvaging the Real Florida: Lost and Found in the State of Dreams. By Jack E. Davis ................................................................................................... 66 Schafer, William Bartram and the Ghost Plantations of British East Florida. By Thomas Hallock .............................................................................................. 68 Vickers, Cypress Gardens, Americas Tropical Wonderland: How Dick Pope Invented Florida. By Stephen E. Branch .............................................................................. 69
iv T B H E...elcome to the Silver Anniversary edition of Tampa Bay History Volume 25 has three interesting and informative articles on the history and development of the Tampa Bay area. As in years past, this issue also has thought-provoking book reviews covering the latest in Florida history scholarship. The winner of the 2011 Leland Hawes Prize for best graduate essay in Florida history leads off this years journal. The winning paper, A Caribbean Borderland: The Tampa Bay Area During the Sixteenth Century, was written by Gregory Jason Bell, a Ph. D. candidate at the University of Cincinnati. Bell theorizes that Florida, and the Tampa Bay area in particular, should not only be viewed as part of mainland North America but the peninsula is also part of the larger circum-Caribbean network that includes Cuba, Puerto Rico and other parts of Latin America. Those ties connecting Florida to points further south include long-held traditions of trade among the original native inhabitants, the efforts of Spanish officials to explore and possess the continued movement of people between Florida and the Caribbean. Tom Adamich returns for the second year in a row, contributing the second article in this years journal. Adamich explorers the history of Clearwaters Harbor Oaks subdivision and examines the history and legacy of its founder, Dean Alvord. Adamich delves into Alvords early history, including outlines of his early work in New York. After establishing Alvords track record for success, Adamich brings the story to Florida and the Harbor Oaks subdivision, which is still a fashionable address in Clearwater. The subdivision was home to a number of early automotive industry pioneers who were seeking an escape from the cold. They found that escape, and more, in Harbor Oaks. The third article comes from the History Centers Collections Manager, Travis Puterbaugh. Puterbaugh examines the pivotal year of 1976, which featured the inaugural season of the Tampa Bay Buccaneers, the decline of Curtis Hixon Hall and the saving of the Tampa Theatre. The author has a particular affinity for this topic because he was born two weeks before the first-ever Tampa Bay Buccaneers home game in 1976.
F E... v Examining emerging scholarship is a hallmark of most good journals, and this years Tampa Bay History features seven book reviews that accomplish that goal. Book topics include a search for the Real Florida, the travels of William Bartram and a look into Floridas tourist industry. These book reviews contribute mightily to the continued growth of Florida as an area of historic focus. I hope you enjoy the 2011 edition of Tampa Bay History. Remember, the journal is only as good as its contributors, so if you have a paper you would like to submit, please feel free to contact me at the address listed on the inside front cover. I also encourage you to contact me if you have any questions or comments about the articles in this journal. A healthy debate about the causes and effects of historical events is one of the best ways to keep history alive. R K-P, E
A C B 1 C B: T T B A S CB G J B Have you not hard of floryda, A coontre far bewest. Where savage pepell planted are By nature and by hest. Author unknown, early seventeenth century 1rior to the first documented arrival of Spaniards on the shores of Tampa Bay in 1528, the Safety Harbor Culture of Floridas Gulf Coast actively and quite naturally participated in a pan-Caribbean trade network. In fact, at the time of first contact, the Tampa Bay areas connection with the Caribbean, and especially Cuba, was thousands of years old, stretching back at least to the Late Archaic period (3000 BC). The arrival of the Spanish and their subsequent repeated efforts to tame the area and its inhabitants, with the stated purposes of procuring transportable wealth and converting the natives to Catholicism, marked the beginning of a slow and often violent end for the Safety Harbor Culture. The combination of Spanish 1 Author Unknown, Floryda, early seventeenth century, reprinted in Charlton Tebeau and Ruby Leach Carson, Florida from Indian Trail to Space Age: A History (Delray Beach, Fla.: Southern, 1965), 2:290. G J B is a Ph.D. candidate in U.S. history at the University of Cincinnati. A Tampa native, he currently lives with his wife and children in the Czech Republic and teaches American Studies and academic writing at Tomas Bata University in Zln. He wishes to thank his dissertation advisor, Christopher Phillips, as well as Cornelius G. Weyhing, Toben D. Nelson and Justin Pope for reading and commenting on earlier versions of this article. Furthermore, the author wishes to express his gratitude to the Charles Phelps Taft Research Center at the University of Cincinnati and to The University of South Florida Libraries Florida Studies Center for their financial support during the completion of this work. This article is dedicated to Lee Rachelson of Tampa, Florida.
2 T B H swords and germs gradually took its toll throughout the sixteenth century, greatly reducing the native population in both size and strength. Yet, even as the Amerindian population declined precipitously, threatening to sever the Tampa Bay areas relationship with the Caribbean, the Spanish, based in Hispaniola and Cuba, unwittingly kept the Caribbean connection alive by using the Tampa Bay area, geographically positioned along the Florida Gulf coast almost directly north of Havana, as a staging area for incursions into northern Florida as well as southeastern North America. This essay documents the Spanish efforts to conquer and colonize the Caribbean and Florida during the sixteenth century and demonstrates the effects that those efforts had on the Tampa Bay area and its inhabitants. In doing so, it documents the maintenance of a cultural relationship between the Tampa Bay area and the Caribbean that clearly had strong repercussions for Tampas future identity. It also supports the growing consensus among historians and anthropologists that peninsular Florida should be viewed not only as part of North America but in a circum-Caribbean context.2Muslims had been a thorn in Spains side since AD 711, when Moorish soldiers, under the leadership of Tarik bin Ziyad, crossed over to the Iberian Peninsula from North Africa and with lightning speed conquered the peninsula. Although Spain, by the fifteenth century, had regained all of its territory except for the state of Granada, a major setback occurred in 1458, when Constantinople fell to Muslim Turks, making continued trade with Asia prohibitively expensive. Spain needed an alternative trade route to Asia, and it actively began global explorations to find one. Then, in 1492, Spain finally managed to expel the Muslims from their last toehold on the Iberian Peninsula. As a result, the Spanish co-monarchs, Isabel de Castilla y Len and Fernando II de Aragn, were in a jubilant mood. Christopher Columbus took advantage of this fact, pleading for financing for a voyage in search of a western route to Cipango (Japan) and Cathay (China). Columbus received not only the requisite financial backing but also authority to sail. Fearing a royal change of heart, he prepared quickly and sailed that same year. Of course, he never reached his proposed destination. A large landmass, purportedly unknown to Europeans at the time, blocked his westward path.3When Columbus first saw land, he guessed, incorrectly, that his fleet had reached an island in the Indian Ocean, and weary from the lengthy voyage, Columbus naturally ordered his fleet to lay anchor so that his men might stretch their legs and 2 Michael Gannon, re Coming of the Judeo-Christian Religions to the Caribbean and Florida, in Myths and Dreams: Exploring the Cultural Legacies of Florida and the Caribbean (Miami Lakes, Fla.: Jay I. Kislak Foundation, 1999), 1; Margaret Villanueva, El Golfo de Mexico: Sixteenth and Eighteenth Century Views of the Americas Sea, Newberry Library: Smith Center Publications, Slide Set #26, 1997, www.newberry.org/smith/slidesets/ss26.html; Jane G. Landers, Black Community and Culture in the Southeastern Borderlands, Journal of the Early Republic 18, no. 1 (1998): 119.3 Sherry Johnson, Dreams of Empire: re Legacies of Contact, in Myths and Dreams, 22. re Vikings visited North America in the late tenth century, but evidence suggests they spread no word of their voyages.
A C B 3 renew themselves, so that his fleet might be resupplied, and so that he might ascertain his exact location. As a result, the first contact between Spaniards and Amerindians occurred on October 12, 1492, on the Bahamian island of Guanahani (San Salvador). The native inhabitant Lucayans, who were Taino, did not fear the strange-looking Europeans with their three large floating houses with wings. Instead, as participants in a well-established pan-Caribbean trading network, they simply expected to trade with them. The Spanish initially gave the Lucayans nothing to fear. They traded with them, ate and drank with them, and engaged in intercourse with the Lucayan women. This last interaction would ultimately result not just in the spread of syphilis to Europe when these sailors returned to port, but in the emergence of mixed-blood people called mestizos. Still, Columbus and his men, who though having seemingly enjoyed the company of the Lucayans, saw little of value in the Bahamas, did not long tarry. As Harold Gilman notes, explorers, like any other group entering a new land, are often influenced as much by what they wish to find as by what they actually observe. If a group entering a new area does not find what it desires, or the newly discovered land exhibits characteristics with which the group is not familiar, the area is often perceived as useless. Such was the case with the Spanish in the Bahamas, at least at first contact. Later, these invaders would find value in the human resources of the Bahamas, but at the moment, what caught Spanish attention was the glitter of the gold jewelry the Lucayans were wearing. When they found that it came from islands to the south, they quickly resupplied their ships and disembarked.4 After briefly exploring Cuba, the next stop was Hispaniola, where Columbus and his men were entertained by a local cacique, given presents of gold, and told that they could have as much gold as they wished for. Being greeted so pleasantly prompted Columbus to establish a colony on Hispaniola called La Navidad, which he manned with thirty-nine sailors from his flagship, the Santa Maria, which had earlier grounded and floundered. He reembarked for Spain, carrying with him the golden gifts and the happy news that the gold on Hispaniola was Spains for the taking. A second expedition that Columbus led, this time with a fleet of seventeen ships holding 1,500 men and women, departed Cdiz, Spain, on September 25, 1493, and arrived at Hispaniola on November 22. They found La Navidad in ruins and the inhabitants dead. As reported by the chronicler Fernandez de Oviedo, the deadly attack on Columbuss men was retaliatory. Christians did many vicious things and robbed [the Amerindians] of their wives and daughters and everything they had, as their fancy dictated, he wrote. And with all this they acted as if each one was a law unto himself and they were insolent to the captain who had been left to command them and they strayed into the interior, a few at a time, so that all were slain. Rather than confirm 4 Ibid., 23, 26; Milanich, When Worlds Collided: Native Peoples of the Caribbean and Florida in the Early Colonial Period, in Myths and Dreams, 11; Harold F. Gilman, Floridas Gulf Coast as First Seen by Europeans, in rreads of Tradition and Culture along the Gulf Coast, ed. Ronald V. Evans (Pensacola: Gulf Coast History and Humanities Conference, 1986), 186.
4 T B H or deny the story of his sailors deprivations, Columbus tabled the matter and set about establishing a new settlement that he named La Isabela. This settlement, however, also proved unsuccessful. In 1500, Fernando and Isabel, heeding the persistent complaints of colonists, removed Columbus from his posts of viceroy and governor of Hispaniola. When Columbus resisted this royal order, the new commander of the island, Francisco de Bobadilla, arrested him and returned him to Spain in chains. Although the monarchs ultimately freed Columbus and even granted him the right to a third voyage to the New World, his star waned, contrary to the myth that had enshrined his heroic memory by the late nineteenth century, when white Americans celebrated the four-hundreth anniversary of his maiden voyage.5 Such an inauspicious beginning did not deter Spain from going full bore after Caribbean riches. In 1494, Spain, Portugal, and Rome signed the Treaty of Tordesillas, whereby, in exchange for Spains promise to convert Amerindians, the pope legitimized Spains claim to all of the Western Hemisphere except for parts of Brazil, which fell under Portuguese dominion. Armed with such authority, between 1492 and 1504 more than eighty ships departed Spain for the 5 Edward T. Stone, Columbuss La Navidad: re Fate of the New Worlds First Spanish Settlement, American Heritage Magazine 29, no. 3, (April/May 1978), reprinted by AmericanHeritage.com at www. americanheritage.com/articles/magazine/ah/1978/3/1978_3_82.shtml. There are very few images of the Calusa people and their predecessors, which makes this portrait incredibly important for historians and anthropologists. The image on the clam shell was created roughly 1,000 years ago and found by archaeologist Frank Hamilton Cushing in 1896.Courtesy of the Florida Museum of Natural History
A C B 5 Americas. Using Hispaniola as a base, voyages of discovery and conquest quickly brought much of the Caribbean into the Spanish realm. The local Tainos, Sibonneys, and Caribs resisted the Spanish incursions, and although they had a sizeable advantage in numbers, they proved no match against Spanish weapons and military tactics. Consequently, Juan Ponce de Len conquered Puerto Rico in 1508, Jamaica fell in 1509, and as Jerald T. Milanich argues, Cuba was next. In 1511 one Spanish army moved eastward across the island from the west while another, led by Pnfilo de Narvez, newly arrived from the bloody conquest of Jamaica, marched west. Caught between the armies, thousands of Indians were slain. By 1515 the conquest of the island was complete. Once conquered, the conquistadors took some islanders captive and sent them to Spain to be sold into slavery or to work as house servants, while they enslaved others and forced them to labor in mines or on ranchos or as servants for Spanish colonists. Those lucky enough to remain free were subjected to a system of tribute through which, in exchange for freedom, they were forced to supply the Spanish with food, cotton, and of course, more gold.6 Although war and forced labor both took their tolls on the local populations, European diseases, to which Amerindians had few or no immunities, largely decimated their numbers. Beginning in 1506, influenza was the first disease to afflict the Caribbean people. Smallpox struck in 1519, followed by measles, tuberculosis, diphtheria, typhus, and bubonic plague. As a result of these illnesses, the native population declined precipitously. Although the mixed-blood population grew, the fledgling Spanish colonies found themselves facing a severe shortage of labor. To secure additional labor, slavers raided Lucayan villages in the Bahamas, removing an estimated forty thousand residents between 1509 and 1513 alone. Consequently, by 1520, the Bahamas were largely depopulated. Slavers then turned their attention to the mainland of Central America, and when they still could not meet demand, they began importing slaves from Africa. With greater immunity to European diseases, the Africans had a better rate of survival. Slavers quickly recognized this fact, even if they did not understand the science behind it, and the African slave trade began in earnest. By 1524, there were more Africans on Hispaniola than Amerindians.7Slavers, it should be noted, often acted outside the law. According to Milanich, the Crown, through asientos (royal contracts) awarded to the leaders of expeditions, sought to regulate voyages and expeditions of conquest to assure the division of spoils and future earnings. Although they could not legally undertake voyages without permission from the crown, unsanctioned voyages to pillage, capture native people as slaves, and locate lands for future, legal exploitation must have been ongoing. Although Juan Ponce de Len, then governor of Puerto Rico, led the first official Spanish voyage to what is now the mainland United States in 1513, slavers based in the Bahamas had already explored and raided La Pascua Florida, as Ponce de Len called it. In fact, Alberto Cantinos 1502 map of the New World clearly depicts a wedge-6 Milanich, When Worlds Collided, 15. 7 Johnson, Dreams of Empire, 26; Milanich, When Worlds Collided, 16.
6 T B H shaped peninsula to the north of Cuba, suggesting that Spaniards had at least preliminarily explored Florida during the first decade of the Columbian Era.8Stories of enslavement and genocide passed from the Caribbean to Florida by the pan-Caribbean trade network, cementing in Florida Amerindian minds an unfavorable opinion of Europeans and precluding any warm welcome. In fact, although Ponce de Lens fleet of three caravels tarried for three weeks on the Florida Gulf Coast in May 1513, probably in the Charlotte Harbor area, relations between the Spanish and the local Amerindians, likely Calusa, quickly deteriorated. A squadron of dugout canoes filled with bellicose natives (among them a Spanish-speaking, Spanish-hating Amerindian claiming to be from Hispaniola) attacked the fleet. When the Calusa tried forcibly to board Ponce de Lens ships, the Spaniard wisely ordered a withdrawal of his resupplied fleet and a return to Puerto Rico.98 Jerald T. Milanich, Florida Indians and the Invasion from Europe (Gainesville: University Press of Florida, 1998), 107; Milanich, When Worlds Collided, 17; Doris Weatherford, Real Women: Of Tampa and Hillsborough County from Prehistory to the Millennium (Tampa: University of Tampa Press, 2004), 5; Michael Gannon, re Coming of the Judeo-Christian Religions to the Caribbean and Florida, in Myths and Dreams, 4; Gilman, Floridas Gulf Coast as First Seen by Europeans, 186. See also Jerald T. Milanich, Floridas Indians from Ancient Times to the Present (Gainesville: University Press of Florida, 1998), 134.9 Karl A. Bickel, re Mangrove Coast: re Story of the West Coast of Florida (New York: CowardMcCann, 1942), 15; F. R. Vernon-Williams, History of Florida, in Florida Cruise, ed. Norman Though likely not the first European to arrive in Florida, Juan Ponce de Lefn gave the peninsula (which he mistook for an island) its name. His expeditions in 1513 and 1522 failed to establish a permanent presence in Florida, but they did encourage others to try their luck in the Florida wilderness.Courtesy of the Library of Congress
A C B 7 This hostile reception did not deter the Spanish from exploring the Gulf coast, whether in search of a water route to Asia or for other reasons. In 1516, Diego de Miruelo claimed to have discovered a beautiful bay where he engaged in trading with the natives, suggesting he might have been the first Spaniard to anchor in Tampa Bay. The following year, the fleet of Francisco Hernndez de Crdova (or Crdoba), guided by Ponce de Lens former pilot, Anton de Alaminos, and carrying the noted Spanish historian Bernal Diaz, experienced a shortage of potable water while traveling from the Yucatan to Cuba. Probably desperate, Alaminos sailed the fleet into Charlotte Harbor, known at that time as San Carlos Bay, and procured water. Much like Ponce de Lens fleet four years prior, the Calusa quickly forced the Spaniards to leave. In March 1519, Alonso lvarez de Pineda and his four-ship, 270man expedition left Jamaica and sailed along the Gulf coast from Key West to Texas. Adding to preexisting knowledge, lvarez de Pineda was able to produce a map in 1520 that clearly depicts two harbors on the Florida Gulf coast, one probably being Tampa Bay. His map also clearly depicted Florida as a North American peninsula and demonstrated that the Spanish had largely ruled out the possibility of a Gulf waterway to Asia. More important, the Spanish by then claimed the Gulf of Mexico. Also, it was reportedly common knowledge by this time that sailing due north from Havana would lead directly to a fine deepwater port, this being either Charlotte Harbor or Tampa Bay.10Their dream of a water route to Asia quashed, the Spanish turned to Florida in hopes of fulfilling what historian Herbert Bolton notes were their developing dual desires for the heathens gold and the heathens soul. In 1514, King Fernando II awarded Ponce de Len a patent to colonize Florida and transplant on to her shores both Spanish people and Spanish civilization. Rankled yet by the outcome of his previous visit to Floridas Gulf coast, Ponce de Len made plans to return to the Charlotte Harbor area, but a revolt by the Caribs of the Lesser Antilles delayed these plans for seven years. In 1521, he wrote a letter to Ferdinand stating: Among my services I discovered at my own cost and charge the Island of Florida. Now I return to that Island, if it please Gods will, to settle it. Ponce de Len then led a fleet up the west coast of Florida, ordered it to anchor in or near Charlotte Harbor, and landed several hundred men as well as horses and agricultural equipment. Native hostility once again cut short the endeavor. Slavers had continued to raid the area in Alan Hill (Baltimore: George W. King Printing Company, 1945), 7; Gary R. Mormino and Anthony P. Pizzo, Tampa: re Treasure City (Tulsa: Continental Heritage Press, 1983), 1.10 Bickel, re Mangrove Coast, 54; Gilman, Floridas Gulf Coast, 186; Paul E. Homan, Floridas Frontiers: A History of the Trans-Appalachian Frontier (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2002), 22, 29; John H. Hann, Indians of Central and South Florida, 1513, Ripley P. Bullen Series, ed. Jerald T. Milanich (Gainesville: University Press of Florida, 2003), 1, 12; Alonso Alvarez de Pineda, Map of the Gulf Coast, original located in the Archive of the Indies, Seville, Spain; Milan ich, Florida Indians and the Invasion from Europe, 110; Milanich, Floridas Indians from Ancient Times to the Present, 137; Lindsey Wilger Williams, Boldly Onward: re Incredible Adventures of Americas Adelantados and Clues to reir Landing Places in Florida (Charlotte Harbor, Fla.: Precision, 1986), 74.
8 T B H the interlude between Ponce de Lens visits, only increasing the extant Amerindian dislike of Spaniards. As a result, it was not long before the Calusa managed to mount a well-organized attack from both sea and land, routing the Spanish with armorpiercing arrows. Wounded in the leg by a Calusa shark-tooth arrow, Ponce de Len again was forced to retreat, this time to Cuba, where his wound became infected, resulting in his death.11Upon Ponce de Lens death, King Carlos of Spain, who also happened to be Holy Roman Emperor Charles V, awarded the rights to Florida to Pnfilo de Narvez, conferring upon him the title of adelantado (representative of the king who held judicial and administrative powers over a particular district) and granting him permission to conquer and colonize the land stretching from the Cape of Florida to the Ro de Las Palmas in Mexico. As adelantado, Narvez became the proprietor of the adelantamiento of La Florida, and as such was to furnish certain services to the king and receive certain benefits from him in return.12 Narvez wasted little time in fulfilling his contractual obligations. Five ships, piloted by Diego de Miruelo, who claimed intimate familiarity with the area, and containing about six hundred soldiers, priests, and settlers, as well as eighty horses and supplies, set sail from Trinidad, Cuba-bound for Ro de Las Palmas. However, severe storms forced Miruelo to turn the fleet northeast, toward the Florida Gulf coast, and after consulting Narvez, he guided the fleet to the Tampa Bay area and anchored off the Pinellas Peninsula, on Good Friday, April 15, 1528. With the stated purpose of establishing a colony and converting the locals to Catholicism, the redheaded, red bearded, and one-eyed Narvez and his men reconnoitered the area and walked across the peninsula to the shores of Old Tampa Bay, which he then named La Bahia de la Cruz (The Bay of the Cross). In the course of these explorations, they encountered a handful of Amerindians who led them to the local village of Tocobaga. Once in the village, Narvezs men were surprised by the number of European salvaged goods they saw, including wooden boxes containing bodies, linen, and other cloth. Then, in one of the thatched huts of Tocobaga, a small gold ornament was found, the discovery of which prompted Narvez to unfurl the royal standard and recite a proclamation written by Spanish jurists to acquaint the Amerindians with the laws of their new 11 Herbert E. Bolton, Spanish Borderlands: A Chronicle of Old Florida and the Southwest, Yale Chronicles of America Series (Toronto: Glasgow, Brook, 1970), 2; Mormino and Pizzo, Tampa: re Treasure City, 1; Gloria Jahoda, River of the Golden Ibis (New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1973), 25; Vernon-Williams, History of Florida, 7; Gilman, Floridas Gulf Coast, 186; Bolton, Spanish Borderlands, 6; Milanich, Florida Indians and the Invasion from Europe, 110; Kenneth W. Mulder, Tampa from Shell Mound to Modern Town, Sunland Tribune 6, no. 1 (1980): 24.12 Mormino and Pizzo, Tampa: re Treasure City, 22; Homan, Floridas Frontiers, 29; Eugene Lyon, re Enterprise of Florida, Florida Historical Quarterly 52, no. 4 (1974): 411. According to Lyon, the juridical origins of the Castillian institution of the adelantado can be traced back at least as far as the twelfth century, and the adelantado was an essential ingredient in the reconquest of Spain that was later transferred, legally intact, to the New World. Spains expansion into the Western Hemisphere, notes Lyon, was accomplished chieny by adelantados.
A C B 9 king. Possibly owing to this proclamation, Narvez and the village cacique (chief), whose name is recorded in Spanish documents as Hirrihigua, became embroiled in a dispute, the result being that Narvez, who by that time had earned a reputation in Jamaica as a murderer and who had extended that reputation during the conquest of Cuba by directing several mass killings that helped break native resistance, cut off the caciques nose and then fed the caciques mother, while still alive, to his war dogs.13Barbarous and inhumane violence toward natives was appropriate both religiously and culturally to these sixteenth-century Spaniards. As Caribbean historian Sherry Johnson points out, the 750-year conflict with Muslims had left the Spanish with the ideological and cultural baggage of the glorification of military service and the exploits of military heroes, as well as with an unwavering belief, bordering on fanaticism, in the infallibility of Catholicism. Both traits shaped the Spanish experience in the New World. According to historian Michael Gannon, prior to 1540, Spaniards generally believed that the indigenous peoples were a subhuman speciesa collection of not fully developed human beings, who had no claim to the same rights and privileges accorded Europeans, but, rather, were by their natures subject legally and morally to 13 Williams, Boldly Onward, 52; Vernon-Williams, History of Florida, 9; Mulder, Tampa from Shell Mound to Modern Town, 25; Milanich, Floridas Indians from Ancient Times to the Present, 107; Bolton, Spanish Borderlands, 20; Raymond Arsenault, St. Petersburg and the Florida Dream, 1888 (Gainesville: University Press of Florida, 1999), 19. One of only four survivors of the ill-fated Pnfilo de Narvez expedition, Alvar Nez Cabeza de Vaca walked from the Tampa Bay area to the west coast of Mexico, completing the first documented crossing of the North American continent by Old World explorers. Cabeza de Vaca recounted the eight year journey, which was published in Europe and read by many, including conquistador Hernando de Soto.Courtesy of the Library of Congress
10 T B H exploitation. Thus, for Spaniards inured to war against Muslims and who left Spain to meet destinies in the New World, violence was a part of life. Furthermore, thanks to violence and diseases, life did not last long; the average life span in fifteenthcentury Europe was only thirty years. This is not to suggest that life was valued less but to point out simply that death and suffering were much more commonplace. In the Americas, the Spanish faced another group of dark-skinned, non-Catholic people who, not surprisingly, resisted foreign control. The Spanish transferred their attitudes toward Muslims onto these new peoples and treated them accordingly. In this light, Narvezs actions in Tampa, although brutal even by Old Testament standards and unforgivable by twenty-first-century sensibilities, are understandable. Still, historian Samuel Eliot Morrison does not buy into these justifications, declaring Narvez both cruel and stupid and the most incompetent of all who sailed for Spain in this era.14 After widespread rumors of Spanish maltreatment of nativesknown collectively today as the Black Legend (La Leyenda Negra)made their way to the Tampa Bay area, and following repeated visits from slavers, any chance for an amicable relationship between the Spanish and Tampas Amerindians was unlikely. Narvez and his men took just one week to destroy it. Leaving Tampa, they made an ill-fated march north to Apalachen in search of transportable wealth that the Amerindians told them falsely was there (only four men, not including Narvez, survived this expedition, the remainder dying from hunger, wounds, or exposure). When Narvez failed to return to Cuba, his wife sent out a twenty-five-man search party. When this party sailed into Tampa Bay, the natives made it clear that the party was unwelcome. Still, two mariners dared to go ashore. One was killed immediately, while the other, Juan Ortiz, was tortured almost to the point of death, when the chiefs daughter persuaded her father to spare Ortizs life. She then nursed Ortiz back to health, and he ended up living among the Amerindians for eleven years, during which time he not only learned Amerindian dialects but supposedly taught the locals some Spanish. Ortiz was important in part because he represented a constant Spanish presence among the local American Indians during the 1530s and because he demonstrated to them, albeit in a small degree, the humanity of Spaniards. In fact, his presence, and the bravery he once demonstrated in rescuing the body of a recently deceased infant from a hungry panthers clutches, might have gone a long way toward rehabilitating the Spanish in local minds. This rehabilitation, however, was immediately undone when the next conquistador, Hernando de Soto, a veteran of Francisco Pizarros Peruvian campaign, arrived on Tampas shores.1514 Johnson, Dreams of Empire, 30; Gannon, re Coming of the Judeo-Christian Religions, 3; Je Klinkenberg, History under Foot, St. Petersburg Times, 19 January 2004, www.sptimes. com/2004/01/19/Floridian/History_under_foot.shtml.15 David J. Weber, re Spanish Frontier in North America (Hartford: Yale University Press, 1992), 42; Vernon-Williams, History of Florida, 9; Weatherford, Real Women, 5; Milanich, Florida
A C B 11 Narvezs death vacated the proprietorship of the adelantamiento of La Florida, albeit not for long. lvar Nez Cabeza de Vaca, one of the four survivors of the Narvez expedition, had entertained the Spanish court in Seville by telling stories of La Florida, the richest country in the world. Thirty-three-year-old Hernando de Soto, present at the court, believed the stories and upon request in November 1536 was made adelantado for life of La Florida, which at that point encompassed much of what is now the southeastern United States. In exchange for the proprietorship, he was instructed by Emperor Charles V to explore, conquer, fortify, and settle La Florida, to search for mineral wealth, and to establish a protected overland route from the Atlantic coast westward to the Gulf of Mexico and onto New Spain (Mexico). On April 6, 1538, heavily armed and with legal documents making them representatives of God, the pope, and the king, de Soto and his army sailed from Spain. After arriving in Cuba, de Soto, being cautious or thorough, sent scout ships to reconnoiter a landing site at Tampa Bay, a harbor known to Spanish navigators as Bahia Honda (Deep Bay) that had been explored the previous year by Juan de Anasco, de Sotos chief pilot. Then, on May 18, 1539, de Sotos fleet of eight to ten ships, carrying 600 soldiers and about 125 support staff and livestock, departed Havana. After a stopover in the Dry Tortugas, they arrived on May 25 on Floridas Gulf coast somewhere between Charlotte Harbor and Tampa Bay, probably near the mouth of the Little Manatee River.16As luck would have it, the de Soto expedition made landfall near the village of Ucita, where Juan Ortiz was living after a number of years among the Tocobaga a few miles to the north. With Narvezs depredations fresh in mind, the Ucita did not wait to see what the Spaniards wanted but instead fired upon them with arrows and then fled into the wooded and swampy interior where horses could not pursue. They also set signal fires to warn the other local chiefdoms of danger. De Soto quickly confiscated the village, making it his base camp. Once settled, de Soto invited the cacique of the Ucita to a meeting. The cacique, however, did not wish to meet, but replied that he would happily receive the severed heads of the Castilians. De Soto then sent out companies in search of other Amerindians who might direct him toward mineral wealth. On one such excursion, Spaniards were pleasantly surprised to find Ortiz, who had come from the nearby village of Mocoso to investigate the reason for the signal fires. Although appearing like an Amerindian both in skin color and in dress, Ortiz still spoke broken Spanish even after more than a decade Indians and the Invasion from Europe, 122; Mormino and Pizzo, Tampa: re Treasure City, 23; Sylvia Sunshine, Petals Plucked from Sunny Climes (1880, repr., Gainesville: University Presses of Florida, 1976), 285.16 Milanich, Florida Indians and the Invasion from Europe, 127; Jerald T. Milanich, Tracing the Route of Hernando De Soto through Florida, in Essays in Florida History (Tampa: Endowment for the Humanities, 1980), 7; Vernon-Williams, History of Florida, 9-10; Ernest Lauren Robinson, History of Hillsborough County, Florida; Narrative and Biographical (Saint Augustine, Fla.: Record Co.printers, 1928), 13; Kenneth W. Mulder, re Amulet, Sunland Tribune 8, no. 1 (1982): 26; Hampton Dunn, Hernando De Soto: Saint or Sadist? Sunland Tribune 15 (1989): 4.
12 T B H of captivity. He also spoke several Native dialects, which broke the language barrier between the Spaniards and the locals and which, as de Soto wrote, put new life into us for without him I know not what would have become of us. In fact, de Soto viewed the appearance of Ortiz as a sign that God has taken this enterprise in His special keeping. It gave him strength to continue, with renewed energy. After reconnoitering the area for about six weeks, pillaging native settlements and making few friends among the local Ucita, Pohoy, and Mocoso in the process (the exception being the cacique of the Mocoso, whom he plied with gifts), de Soto determined that the area was sterile and did not contain exploitable resources. As a result, de Soto and his new interpreter Ortiz, with about five hundred men and an untold number of captive American Indian porters, moved inland, heading northward through modern Hillsborough, Pasco, Hernando, and Citrus Counties, to the Cove of the Withlacoochee River and beyond, in search of a rich country thirty leagues inland. However, de Soto left behind a garrison of fifty soldiers with thirty horses and a twoyear supply of food. These men, under the command of Pedro Calderon, remained in the Tampa Bay area, disrupting local native life, until de Soto arrived near modernday Tallahassee and sent orders for Calderon and his men to decamp and join him in the province of Apalachee. Clearly, the de Soto expedition was a negative force in This image, created by French artist Jacques LeMoyne and engraved by German printer Theodor de Bry, is among the most popular 16th century drawings of Floridas original American Indians. LeMoyne likely witness a scene like this or heard about it during his time at Fort Caroline near todays Jacksonville.Tampa Bay History Center Collection
A C B 13 the area, keeping the Caribbean connection with the area alive but doing nothing to repair the reputation of Spaniards so damaged by Narvez.17 In fact, during his travels through Florida and what became the southeastern United States, de Soto was, as one historian concluded, a scourge upon the land. Florida historian Gloria Jahoda quotes a primary source document lamenting that de Soto and his men tormented and killed [the Indians], leading them like animals. When one became tired or fainted, they cut off his head at the neck, in order not to free those in front from the chain that bound them. The source also stated that de Soto had the faces of many Indians cut, so that they were shorn of nostrils and lips Thus he dispatched these mutilated, suffering creatures dripping with blood, to carry the news of the deeds and miracles done by those baptized Christians, preachers of the Holy Catholic Faith. It may be judged in what state those people must be, how they must love the Christians, and how they will believe that their God is good and just. A rare native primary source supports this conclusion, referring to de Soto and his men as professional vagabonds who wander from place to place, gaining your livelihood by robbing, sacking, and murdering people who give you no offense. Such seemingly inhumane actions go counter to the 1537 Papal Bull, Sublimus Dei, which declared Amerindians truly human beings with full intellectual and moral capacity to become Christians. As such, they were to be treated not as slaves but as possible converts and parishioners. Although staunchly Catholic, Spain did not act quickly to make this official policy. Delayed, as Doris Weatherford points out, by economic and racist motives, as well as by a cult of military violence nourished over many centuries of the Reconquista, the struggle to regain control of Iberia from the Muslims, the Spanish Crown took five years to succumb to papal pressure and issue what were called New Laws that reinforced the Papal Bull and forbade all further enslavement of the Indians. Although certainly aware of the Bulls muchpublicized contents, de Soto focused on conquering natives in Florida instead of converting them.18At least eight Spanish explorers made contact with the Tampa Bay area between 1513 and 1539, and many, if not all, of these contacts, resulted in violence against Amerindians. If, as historian Karl Bickel points out, one adds the unreported and illegitimate hijacking slaving expeditions which certainly took place it is 17 Jahoda, River of the Golden Ibis, 39; Gilman, Floridas Gulf Coast, 189 92; Weber, re Spanish Frontier, 50; Milanich, Tracing the Route, 7; Homan, Floridas Frontiers, 36; Mormino and Pizzo, Tampa: re Treasure City, 24; A. H. Phinney, Narvaez and De Soto: reir Landing Places and the Town of Espirito Santo, Florida Historical Quarterly 3, no. 3 (1925): 21; Mi lanich, re Timucua, 76, 80; Milanich, Florida Indians and the Invasion from Europe, 75; Bolton, Spanish Borderlands, 49, 55.18 Michael Gannon, re Coming of the Judeo-Christian Religions to the Caribbean and Florida, in Myths and Dreams, 4-5; Jahoda, River of the Golden Ibis, 50, 3; Weber, re Spanish Frontier, 50; Milanich, Florida Indians and the Invasion from Europe, 101.
14 T B H clear enough why the natives of the bay district became such fierce and unrelenting antagonists of everything Spanish. It also explains why, after the New Laws, they were in no mood to listen to Dominican friar Luis Cncer de Barbastro spreading the message of Spains change of heart. While in Mexico City in 1546, Barbastro heard the stories of Cabeza de Vaca and resolved to bear his standard to Florida in order to undo the damage done to Christianitys image by these early invaders. In 1549, after receiving a royal patent to establish missions among the natives in Florida, Fray Luis and four companions departed the Mexican port city of Vera Cruz for Cuba. Before their departure, Bishop Bartolom de las Casas warned Fray Luis to avoid Tampa Bay because all that land is running with the blood of Indians. Once in Cuba, the staging ground for the expedition, heeding the bishops advice, the friar hired a pilot and ordered him not to sail to any port tainted by the misdeeds of the Spanish. Leaving Cuba the second week of June, the pilot, Captain Juan de Arana, either from ignorance or irresponsibility, sailed into Tampa Bay. Threatened and warned to leave, the Spaniards did manage to have a couple of meetings with the locals, as well as to hold the first recorded Catholic mass in Florida on June 20, 1549. That the native people on shore did not immediately actualize their threats only emboldened the friars, who vowed to press on with their godly endeavor even in the face of danger. Two of the friars were then kidnapped and killed. Undaunted, Fray Luis went ashore on June 26 with Bible and crucifix, and still in sight of his ship, was bludgeoned to death with war clubs. Witnessing this, the remaining friars, still on deck, ordered an immediate return to Vera Cruz, and Tampa was left once again to its native inhabitants. In fact, although illegal slavers and traders most certainly kept up their visits to the Gulf Coast, as evidenced by a 1557 letter to the king of Spain describing Tampa Bay as a place where many slaves can be had, and although a Spanish ship occasionally foundered near the shore, providing the local Amerindians with both Spanish goods and captives, it was not until 1566 that the Tampa Bay area received another official visit.19 By the late 1550s, Spain had grown quite concerned about the Floridian machinations of rival colonizing forces. France, England, and Holland, having refused to acknowledge Spains pope-given right to the New World, quickly encroached on Spains territory, either through officially sanctioned exploratory visits, such as Frances attempt to establish a fort on Floridas east coast in 1564, or by granting sanction to privateers, such as Englands John Hawkins, or later, Francis Drake. Indirect evidence suggests that the French visited Tampa Bay in the mid-sixteenth century. Of equal 19 Karl A. Bickel, re Mangrove Coast, 56; Arsenault, St. Petersburg and the Florida Dream, 19; Vernon-Williams, History of Florida, 10; Bolton, Spanish Borderlands, 123; Weatherford, Real Women, 9; Miguel A. Bretos, Cuba & Florida: Exploration of an Historic Connection, 1539-1991 (Miami: Historical Association of Southern Florida, 1991), 22; Mormino and Pizzo, Tampa: re Trea sure City, 25; Raymond Arsenault, St. Petersburg and the Florida Dream, 22; Johnson, Dreams of Empire, 30; Charles W. Arnade, Cattle Raising in Spanish Florida, 1513-1763 (St. Augustine: St. Augustine Historical Society, 1965), 5; Sources dier on the number of friars, three or four, traveling with Fray Luis.
A C B 15 concern was that by that time the indigenous Caribbean societies had been virtually destroyed, leaving Spain without an important justification for colonization, namely to convert the locals. Consequently, Spain renewed her efforts to colonize La Florida. A royally sanctioned attempt by Tristan de Luna y Arellano to establish a colony at Pensacola Bay in 1559 failed miserably. Shaken but undeterred, on the Ides of March 1565, Spain made an adelantado of Pedro Menndez de Avils and awarded him a royal contract to found a colony in Florida, thereby protecting Florida and Spains claim to it. By that point, most Spanish officials realized that La Florida would never yield the riches of New Spain, but Spain still needed Florida to ensure the safety of her treasure ships and maritime trade. Menndez was more optimistic. He would obey orders and fortify the peninsula to protect both it and the shipping lanes that surrounded it, but he also had great hopes of developing and harvesting Floridas natural resources to make Florida richer than even Peru. Furthermore, Menndez embraced the new attitude toward natives fostered by the Papal Bull of 1537, informing King Phillip II that he would also attempt to evangelize those people sunk in the thickest shades of infidelity. To these ends, Menendez appointed his nephew, Pedro Menndez de Mrquez, as the regional governor of Tocobaga, Carlos, and Tequesta (modern-day Tampa, Charlotte Harbor, and Miami) and sent him from Havana with four ships and 150 sailors on an expedition to reconnoiter and sound, see and discover the coast from Mexico to Santa Elena (modern-day Beaufort, South Carolina). Engaged in these efforts, Menndez de Mrquez visited Tocobaga several times between 1565 and 1569. Meanwhile, his uncle planned to establish a line of posts from Santa Elena to Tampa Bay. On September 8, 1565, he first founded a fort, St. Augustine, to serve as his base of operations on Floridas east coast. Then, after replenishing his supplies and troops at Havana, on February 10, 1566, he sailed to the west coast, landing at Charlotte Harbor on Valentines Day. There, Menndez was well received by the Calusa cacique, who promised to release the Calusas Spanish captives if Menndez agreed to marry his sister. Menndez did so, and then sent the Calusa princess to Cuba for education. The cacique then kept his word by presenting Menndez with a handful of Christians who were, according to the cacique, the sole survivors of more than two hundred Europeans who had been shipwrecked on Floridas coast during the previous decades. If Spanish primary sources are to be believed, the cacique had been sacrificing Christians each year to deities.2020 Mulder, Tampa from Shell Mound to Modern Town, 21; Milanich, Florida Indians and the Inva sion from Europe, 144; Jerald T. Milanich, re Timucua, ed. Alan Kolata and Dean R. Snow (Cam bridge, Mass.: Blackwell, 1996), 52; Johnson, Dreams of Empire, 28; Wiley L. Housewright, Music and Change in Florida, in Myths and Dreams, 1; Robinson, History of Hillsborough County, 13; Vernon-Williams, History of Florida, 11; Bolton, Spanish Borderlands, 150; Eugene Lyon, Menendezs Strategic Plan for the Florida Peninsula Florida Historical Quarterly 67, no. 1 (1988): 8; Gannon, re Coming of the Judeo-Christian Religions, 5; Weatherford, Real Women, 9; Milanich, Florida Indians and the Invasion from Europe, 155, 160; Jahoda, River of the Golden Ibis, 58.
16 T B H Pedro Menendez de Aviles founded St. Augustine, the oldest city in the United States, in 1565. The citys founding came on the heels of Menendezs crushing victory over a group of French Huguenots, first at Fort Caroline and then on Anastasia Island near todays St. Augustine.Courtesy of the Library of Congress
A C B 17 Among the Christian survivors was Hernando de Escalante Fontenada, who was just thirteen years old when he was shipwrecked on the Florida southwest coast in 1548. Escalante Fontenada lived among his captors for seventeen years, learning their language and adopting their culture, until gifted to Menndez. He later returned to Spain, where he wrote a very popular and still extant captivity memoir, three aspects of which are worth noting. First, Escalante Fontenada recorded a legendary Cuba-Florida connection. According to Escalante Fontenada, Caribbean Amerindians believed that a fountain of youth was in Florida, and anciently many Indians from Cuba entered the ports of the Province of Carlos [Calusa] in search of it. The father of King Carlos, whose name was Senquene, stopped those persons and made a settlement of them, the descendants of whom remain to this day. those of Cuba determined to venture their lives on the sea. And it ended in all that numerous people, who went over to Carlos, forming a settlement. Second, Escalante Fontenada described Tocobaga, located at the far northern point of Tampa Bay, as the nearest town [where] resides the king who is chief cacique of the region. Finally, one of the villages within the dominion of the Calusa, south of Tocobaga, was a place called Tanpa, which, according to historians Mormino and Pizzo, was the first recorded reference of the name that would later be attached to both a city and a bay.21 How the modern-day city and bay received the appellation Tampa is in itself a bit of a mystery. The word tanpa has yet to be definitively translated. Some etymologists believe that it meant sticks of fire in the Calusa tongue, possibly in reference to the lightning frequently seen in the area. Others, however, translate the word as the place to gather sticks. Toponymist George R. Stewart disagrees with such stick translations altogether, arguing instead that the word tanpa was a Spanish corruption of the Amerindian word itimpi, meaning simply near it. No matter the words original meaning, it is clear from Escalante Fontanedas memoir that Tanpa was an important Calusa town. This fact originally prompted confusion among scholars because modern-day Tampa, as far as is known, was within the Tocobaga sphere of influence throughout the sixteenth century. Archaeologist Jerald Milanich, however, cleared up the apparent inconsistency between Escalante Fontanedas account and the archaeological record when he determined that the Calusa mullet fishery known as Tanpa was actually located at the mouth of Charlotte Harbor, the original Bay of Tanpa. A later Spanish expedition, argues Milanich, failed to notice Charlotte Harbor while sailing north from Havana, and assumed that todays Tampa Bay was the bay that they had sought. This mistake was recorded in charts and later picked up by the official historiographer of King Felipe II, Antonio de Herrera, who in 1601 printed a map of Florida depicting the location of Tampa Bay. Other cartographers copied Herreras map, and thus, the name was accidently transferred north. In other words, modern-day Tampa took not only its pirate lore, but its very name, from the 21 Lindsey Wilger Williams, Boldy Onward, 14; Escalante Fontaneda, Memoir of Do. D Esca lente Fontaneda Respecting Florida, Written in Spain about the Year 1575, trans. Buckingham Smith (Miami: Historical Association of Southern Florida, 1944), 15; Mormino and Pizzo, Tampa, 26.
18 T B H Charlotte Harbor area. 22In any case, it was not the Calusa inhabitants of Tanpa but the Tocobagans of what is now modern-day Tampa who were troubling Carlos, the Calusa chief. As a result, Carlos urged Menndez to form a military alliance with him to destroy the Tocobagans to the north. Menndez politely refused but did say that he would act as a mediator between Carlos and the cacique of the Tocobaga. On March 7, 1567, Menndez and Carlos sailed to Tocobaga, arriving in the evening. Menndez invited the Tocobagan cacique aboard his brigantine to meet his Calusa rival, but when the two caciques immediately started arguing, Menndez decided to hold a congress on shore in three days time. To demonstrate his power, Tocobaga summoned twentynine subchiefs, one hundred principal men, and 1,500 warriors to attend. Menndez wisely persuaded Tocobaga to send his army away and then sat down with the two caciques to achieve pax hispanica. He also told them about heaven, the king of Spain, and the pope, and promised to Christianize the natives. Finally, for the purpose of defending the territorial integrity of Tocobaga and Calusa, Menndez craftily promised the presence of Spanish troops as a peacekeeping force. While Tocobaga mulled over the offer, Menndez briefly explored the Hillsborough River, which the Tocobaga called Macoya. Menndez erroneously believed that all of Floridas major riversthe St. Johns, Caloosahatchee, Miami, and possibly the Hillsboroughwere connected with one another and the Atlantic inland waterway, and that he just needed to find their confluence. Although the physical and political impediments of the Hillsborough River area dashed Menndezs dreams of identifying a trans-Florida water route, he was still quite impressed by Tampa Bay, which he named La Bahia de San Gregorio. When Tocobaga and Carlos met again with Menndez, they both agreed to amistades, or friendships for the purpose of trade and mutual defense. Tocobaga then asked Menndez to leave behind thirty soldiers to defend his village and teach the natives Christianity. Menndez willingly complied, establishing small garrisons at both Tocobaga and Carlos.23In doing so, Menendez clearly overestimated Spanish military might and authority and underestimated his new Amerindian allies, thereby dooming the wellintended garrisons to failure. Garca Martnez de Cos was placed in charge of the Tocobaga garrison while another captain named Reynoso headed up the effort among the Calusa. Furthermore, to Catholicize the areas Amerindians, Menndez recruited Jesuit priest Juan Rogel. Sent by King Felipe II in 1566 to save souls in the New World, Rogel prepared for his ministry in Florida by studying Amerindian languages in Havana and spending time in Mexico. Despite the best efforts of these men, not 22 Milanich, Floridas Indians from Ancient Times to the Present, 128; Tampas Centennial Year, 1855 (Tampa: City of Tampa, 1955), 4; Williams, Boldly Onward, 84.23 Mormino and Pizzo, Tampa: re Treasure City, 26; Jahoda, River of the Golden Ibis, 66; Amy Turner Bushnell, Situado and Sabana: Spains Support System for the Presidio and Mission Prov inces of Florida (Athens: University of Georgia Press, 1994), 37; Milanich, Florida Indians and the Invasion from Europe, 158.
A C B 19 long after Menndezs departure for Havana, relations between the Amerindians and the Spaniards soured. The Spanish unwittingly continued to disseminate diseases throughout the native population of southwestern Florida, obstructing Rogels and other friars efforts to convince Amerindians of the Christian Gods omnipotence and beneficence. Further, the friars attempted alteration of Amerindian cultural and societal norms, by outlawing polygamy, dancing, feasting, the ball game, and warring, led Amerindians to complain that the restrictions were causing them to lose the ancient valor and dexterity handed down from our ancestors. Consequently, the Amerindians grew cynical toward the Spanish and their religion and prayed to their own gods to bring wrath on the Spaniards who had disrupted their lives and brought illnesses to their families. They refused to further supply the Spanish garrison at Tocobaga with food, deteriorating morale within the garrison and forcing Rogel to sail for Havana on December 10 for provisions. When he returned a month later, he discovered the murders of Captain Martnez de Cos and twenty-six of his men and watched in horror from aboard his caravel as the remaining three prisoners were tortured and hacked to death on the beach. Enraged, the ship captain, Pedro Menndez de Mrquez himself, ordered Tocobaga burned, and then he and Rogel bid good-riddance to the Bay of San Gregorio and returned to Havana. Captain Reynoso and his men soon followed in their wake. At the garrison in Calusa territory, the Amerindians, who had grown tired of the Spanish dipping into their food supply, rebelled, killing three Spaniards and wounding Reynoso. The Spanish retaliated by executing the cacique and killing the leaders of the rebellion, but the Calusa could not be pacified and ultimately forced the abandonment of the Spanish garrison in June 1569. 24 The massacre at Tocobaga and the forced abandonment of the garrison in Calusa territory proved a watershed for Spanish involvement in southwestern Florida. For the Spanish, it marked an end of failed experimentation in a policy of conquest and conversion in the region. In fact, by 1571, Menndezs dreams of a Floridian empire had been reduced to just two garrisons, at Santa Elena (near modern-day Beaufort, South Carolina) and St. Augustine. In 1572, the Jesuits, partly in response to what had happened to the Gulf coast garrisons, deemed Florida to be a poor risk and withdrew. As adelantado and encomendado Menndez bore responsibility for Amerindians learning both the Spanish language and Catholic doctrines. To these ends, and abandoned by the Jesuits, he invited the Franciscan order to Florida. With Santa Elena abandoned in 1587 in the face of English encroachment, the only remaining Spanish toehold in La Florida was St. Augustine. As historian Charles Arnade concludes, only Spains need to protect her fleet and her innate hope that miraculous lands lay beyond Florida kept [alive] her desire for the province.2524 Mormino and Pizzo, Tampa: re Treasure City, 26; Arsenault, St. Petersburg and the Florida Dream, 24; Jahoda, River of the Golden Ibis, 68; Bushnell, Situado and Sabana, 37.25 Gary R. Mormino, Tampa Time: Recollections on the Millennium, in rreads of Tradition and
20 T B H According to historian Eugene Lyon, Menndezs Florida plan was essentially agricultural and commercial but hinged on the Spaniards relationship with the Amerindians. In order to successfully colonize Florida, the native inhabitants had to be subdued, evangelized, and then put to work in a tribute-labor system known at the time as Repartimiento de Labor to entice and support Spanish settlement. The lack of security kept the Spanish from adequately penetrating the interior, and their living in forts and garrisons along the Florida coast prevented them from applying upon the Amerindians the requisite pressure needed to impress Spanish culture upon them. In fact, in 1573, Menndez became so frustrated with Amerindians in peninsular Florida that he asked the kings permission to enslave them and remove them, a request that went against the Papal Bull of 1537, the New Laws of 1542, and even Menndezs own adelantado contract. Consequently, it failed even to garner a response from Menndezs superiors. Instead, Menndez died the following year, probably realizing full well that his efforts in Florida had been largely a failure. Spain nonetheless appreciated Menndezs efforts enough that in 1633 his heirs were granted the title of adelantado of Florida in perpetuity, a symbolic title they hold to this day.26 Official Spanish attempts to infiltrate the sphere of the Gulf Coast Amerindians became rarer as Spain concentrated its efforts on north Florida. The Tocobaga and Calusa attempted once again to restore the old, pre-Columbian order. Indeed, when a Spanish frigate captained by Fernando Valds surveyed the lower Gulf Coast in 1603, he found no material traces of Spains earlier efforts in the region. Its influence on local Amerindian life, contrary to what Valds noted, had been defining. Diseases carried by the Spaniards and spread among native societies along Floridas Gulf Coast greatly reduced their populations, never to recover. Amerindians returned to fishing, hunting, gathering, and conducting maritime trade with their island neighbors to the south, probably hoping that the Spanish machinations on their territory were a thing of the past. If indeed they entertained such hopes, they were bound to be sorely disappointed.27 In any case, the historical and archaeological records of the Spanish presence in the Caribbean and in peninsular Florida during the sixteenth century document the near total destruction of the indigenous inhabitants of the region. The Spanish were, more often than not, cruel and unforgiving to the Amerindians, even after the Papal Bull of 1537 pronounced the Amerindians human and thereby worthy of respect. Clearly the goal of procuring transportable wealth far outweighed the goal of procuring souls, at least during the sixteenth century. Yet, in all the destruction, the Culture along the Gulf Coast, ed. Ronald V. Evans (Pensacola: Gulf Coast History and Humanities Conference, 1986), 170; Homan, Floridas Frontiers, 51, 63; Milanich, Florida Indians and the Invasion from Europe, 161; Charles W. Arnade, re Failure of Spanish Florida, Americas 16, no. 3 (1960): 271.26 Lyon, re Enterprise of Florida, 418. 27 Hann, Indians of Central and South Florida, 1.
A C B 21 natural and long-standing cultural connection between the Tampa Bay area and the Caribbean remained, albeit in altered form: the indigenous connection developed and fostered over millennia subsided but was replaced by a Hispanic cultural connection that has continued in the Tampa Bay area to this day.
22 T B H
C H O 23 H : T R S ST Arfs Floridas Land Boom of the 1920s began to take shape, individuals and corporations sought to stake a claim in the perceived profits associated with residential land development progressing at a fever pace. As prominent developers in other regions of the United States became aware of the vast parcels of undeveloped land on Floridas coasts (particularly on Floridas west coast), they worked quickly to acquire land and plan residential developments. Among the first and most prominent residential developments created in the Tampa Bay region was Clearwaters Harbor Oaks. According to the listing in the Florida Division of Historical Resources Historical Markers Program, Harbor Oaks was Clearwaters first truly planned residential development. Created by New Yorkbased developer Dean Alvord in 1914, Harbor Oaks became widely known in newspaper advertisements and trade journals as the finest shore development on the west coast of Florida and the Riviera of the Sunny South.1 Michael Sanders, noted Clearwater historian and past president of the Clearwater Historical Society, notes that Harbor Oaks was identified as the Pearl of the Pinellas Peninsula situated on an elevation of About Forty Feet Above Mean High Water.2 The development offered potential residents features that were considered innovative for the time (and are still notable today, by residential development standards) including underground utilities, paved streets, curbs and 1 Florida Division of Historical Resources, Florida Historical Markers Program [Pinellas County], www.heritage.com/preservation/markers/markers.cfm?ID=pinellas.2 Michael Sanders, e-mail to author, February 10, 2011. T Arf, a certified teacher-librarian since 2000 and a librarian since 1991, is president of the Visiting Librarian Service, a contract librarian firm he has operated on a full or part-time basis since 1993.Â Adamich is a semi-native ofÂ the Tampa Bay areaÂ and served previously as the cataloging librarian and archivistÂ for the Stetson University College of Laws Gulfport Campus.
24 Tn B H sidewalks, a sewer system, as well as tree-lined parkways that enhanced the appearance of the homes.3In the context of creating an upscale residential community for the wealthy, Alvord incorporated a number of deed and building-related restrictions into the plans. While these details added an additional layer of accountability and complexity to the building process, the end result was the creation of mostly two-story estatestyle homes that represented a variety of prominent architectural styles of the period, including Neoclassical, Mediterranean Revival, Tudor Revival, Mission, and Bungalow.4 The attention to detail for which Alvord was known in similar residential developments he created in Brooklyn, New York (as president of the Dean Alvord Company) quickly became evident in Harbor Oaks. As with the New York projects, Alvord liberally promoted the civic improvement that his development brought to the Clearwater community. It was not uncommon for Alvord to hold best lawn contests and other such award opportunities. These efforts became features of sales literature and newspaper articles that were widely distributed in New York, Boston, Philadelphia, and Chicago. His advertisements attracted a host of wealthy and notable residents, including adventure novelist Rex Beach, Brooklyn Dodgers owner Charles Ebbett, inventor Donald Roebling (who invented the Alligator military 3 Ibid. 4 Ibid. This 1907 photograph shows the sprawling Prospect Park South community in Brooklyn, New York. Note the grand size of most of the homes, as well as the density of homes within each block. Courtesy of the Library of Congress
C H O 25 landing vehicle), 5 industrialist Robert Ingersoll, and members of the Studebaker and Proctor and Gamble families.6 This discussion of Dean Alvord as both developer and community leader will serve as a point of reference for the analysis of Harbor Oaks but, more importantly, will provide a glimpse into the rationale and conditions that led Alvord and other developers to create and promote large-scale residential developmentsprimarily targeted at the wealthy residents of the northern United Statesduring Floridas 1920s Land Boom. Dean Alvord: Civic Advocate and Star Salesman Dean Albert Alvord was born December 4, 1856 in Syracuse, New York, the son of James Dwight Alvord and Caroline Louise Edwards.7 After graduating from Syracuse University in 1882 with a degree in education, Alvord worked as a teacher, book salesman, investment securities salesman, and secretary of the Rochester YMCA (where he help to plan and build a new $125,000 facility) before becoming a real estate agent and developer in Rochester in 1890.8 Following the success of his first development (which consisted of forty lots), Alvord moved to Brooklyn in 1892, where he created the iconic Prospect Park South.9 Cleverly dubbed by Alvord as the rus in urbe (country in the city), Prospect Park South, with its substantial homes (most exceeded 3,500 square feet), numerous deed restrictions, and trees planted to create the illusion that each house resided on its own city lot, has often been considered the forerunner of the modern suburb. Prospect Park South also pioneered the concept of a tree-lined median in a streets centera design that Alvord would later incorporate into Harbor Oaks as well.10 As a result, many residents of wealthy neighborhoods in Manhattan moved to the Prospect Park South suburbs to take advantage of the illusion of rural living with easy access to New York City and adjacent boroughs. Prospect Park South marked just the beginning of Alvords success as a prominent real estate developer and builder. Alvord subsequently purchased large parcels in both Brooklyn and Queens County. He simultaneously developed both the Belle Terre community on Long Islands North Shore and Roslyn Heights in the Roslyn area of Long Island. Alvord was also a principal participant in the acquisition of land for what became the Garden City Estates, the Shinnecock Hills development, and Laurelton.115 Landing Vehicle Tracked, Wikipedia, e Free Encyclopedia, http://en.wikipedia.org/w/index. php?title=Landing_Vehicle_Tracked&oldid=408894443. 6 Florida Historical Markers Program [Pinellas County]. 7 Samuel Morgan Alvord, A Genealogy of the Descendants of ALEXANDER ALVORD An Early Settler of Windsor, Conn. and Northampton, Mass. (Webster, N.Y.: A.D. Andrews, Printer, 1908), 520.8 Herbert Foster Gunnison, Flatbush of Today (Brooklyn, N.Y.,1908), 92.9 Prospect Park South, Brooklyn, Wikipedia, e Free Encyclopedia, http://en.wikipedia.org/w/ index.php?title=Prospect_Park_South,_Brooklyn&oldid=351865198 10 Ibid. 11 Gunnison, Flatbush of Today, 92.
26 Tn B H Belle Terre (French for beautiful land)now part of Brookhaven on Long Islands North Shoreis a picturesque village bordered by Mount Misery Point and Cedar Beach to the north.12According to Nancy Orths The History of Belle Terre, Alvord applied to Belle Terre the principles of what had been dubbed in architectural and community-planning circles as the City Beautiful movement, which encouraged building design that was both beautiful and utilitarian.13 He subsequently purchased what was known as Oakwood from the then-bankrupt Port Jefferson Company, of which he had been a director. Beginning in 1902, Alvord, via the Dean Alvord Company, began to develop the area. He built an estate, which he named Nevalde, for his growing family and spent long hours planning and directing his energy and vast financial resources to creating architecturally significant structures on a grand scale that took advantage of the dramatic natural surroundings of Long Islands North Shore.14 One of the focal points of Belle Terre was the lavish Belle Terre Club. Prominent New Yorkers (including the Vanderbilts and the Belmonts) joined to take advantage of the clubs many amenities, including its one hundred rooms (each with its own fireplace), an 18-hole golf course, tennis courts, horse bridle paths, a private beach, and even a post office. Orth notes that the Belle Terre Club (as well as the Belle Terre development in general) was made more accessible by a limousine service that ran from the Port Jefferson Railroad Station (designed by Alvords architectural firm of Kirby, Petit, and Green, which also designed the Belle Terre Club itself) to the club via the picturesque Belle Terre Road. This road was further beautified by Alvords donation of large numbers of privet hedge seedlings to Belle Terre owners. Orth claims that in 2006, when her history was written, some of the hedges still existed.15Other prominent features of Belle Terre included the two Neoclassical pergolas (also designed by Kirby, Petit, and Green) that incorporated unique pillars fluted on the upper two-thirds of the structure and smooth on the bottom third. These pillars would not only adorn the pergolas and areas of Alvords Nevalde but would also heavily influence many of the Neoclassical homes that eventually were built in Harbor Oaks.16 The other significant architectural style that would later appear in Harbor Oaks was English Tudor, which Alvord successfully used in several prominent residences in an area of Belle Terre known as the English Section. The homes in this area, designed by the noted British architect Frederick Sterner (whose designs had been well received throughout the boroughs of New York), could be readily identified by their traditional Tudor stucco-and-beam facades and their nomenclature: names 12 Belle Terre, New York, Wikipedia, e Free Encyclopedia, http://en.wikipedia.org/w/index. php?title=Belle_Terre,_New_York&oldid=411077297. 13 Nancy Orth, e History of Belle Terre (Belle Terre, N.Y.: Village of Belle Terre, 2006), www.belleterre.us/History/DeanAlvordandtheGloriousYears/tabid/97/Default.aspx.14 Ibid. 15 Orth, e History of Belle Terre, 2.16 Ibid.
C H O 27 like the Dawlish House and the Malmesbury House reflected Sterners affection for his native England.17In 1913, tight finances (possibly brought on by the enactment of the Sherman Antitrust Act) prompted by the Panic of 1910 and 1911,18 forced Alvord and Belle Terre into receivership.19 The timing of this unfortunate turn of events relative to Alvords Port Jefferson Company coincides with Alvords subsequent relocation to Florida, reorganization of the Dean Alvord Company, and development of Harbor Oaks in 1914. However, before discussing Alvords Harbor Oaks in greater detail (as well as the three notable automobile-pioneer residents thereHerbert Harrison, Robert Brown, and James Studebakerand their Alvord-built Harbor Oaks homes), special mention should be made of Alvords civic contributions to both the New York borough and the Long Islandbased communities which he developed and in which he lived. As noted in Samuel Morgan Alvords A Genealogy of the Descendants of ALEXANDER ALVORD, Dean Alvord promoted his City Beautiful initiatives as a prominent member of the Municipal Art Society, the Municipal Club, the Hardware Club, and the Lawyers Club of New York City.20 In Belle Terre, Alvord played a major role in the operations of the Belle Terre Club and other philanthropic and beautification efforts that led to the establishment of civic-based garden associations and clubs throughout Long Island. Alvords City Beautiful initiatives would also find a home in Harbor Oaks, specifically, and the city of Clearwater in general. Harbor Oaks, a Signature Alvord Development Alvords success in using philanthropic and beautification efforts not only to enhance the housing developments he created in New York but to attract potential residents led him to adopt a similar approach in his Florida housing development projects. However, according to the primary authoritative text on the Harbor Oaks development, Harbor Oaks: A Historic and Architectural Survey and Presentation Plan Harbor Oaks (and Alvords other housing development efforts in Florida) came about primarily by accident. In 1910, Alvord decided to establish a permanent winter residence in Florida (having been introduced to the Florida East Coast by Henry Flagler, who had been looking for advice on creating Flagler-backed housing developments in the Miami area). In early 1911, Alvord decided to make his winter home in Clearwater.21He identified a plot of land that had been recently purchased by E. H. Coachman from the Fort Harrison Orange Grove Company (which was established by the heirs of 17 Ibid. 18 Panic of 1910, Wikipedia, e Free Encyclopedia, http://en.wikipedia.org/w/index. php?title=Panic_of_1910%E2%80%931911&oldid=390189780. 19 Orth, e History of Belle Terre, 2.20 S. Alvord, A Genealogy of the Descendants of ALEXANDER ALVORD, 645.21 Florida Preservation Services, Harbor Oaks: A Historic and Architectural Survey and Presentation Plan (Tallahassee, Fla.: te Agency, 1987), 17.
28 Tn B H Augustus B. Ewing and David B. Gould of St. Louis in 1904; 22 Coachmen had divested of the Grove Companys orange crop prior to offering the land for sale). Apparently, Alvord wanted a small portion of the property to build his estate. Because Coachman would not sell the land in parcels, Alvord purchased the entire property setting the stage for the project that became Harbor Oaks.23Alvord proceeded to build a Colonial Revivalstyle stucco home at 802 Druid Road to serve both his speculative and short-term residential needs.24Drawing from his experience in establishing Belle Terre on Long Islands North Shore, Alvord set out to create an exclusive neighborhood featuring neighborhood amenities not typically associated with Florida developments in the 1910s. Thus, what became the Harbor Oaks neighborhood featured graded and paved roads, curbs, gutters, concrete sidewalks, and decorative brick pillars placed strategically at various entrances of the project. A comprehensive sewer system was also featured, as was a community tennis court (placed at the corner of Bay Street and Magnolia Drive). In 1915, underground utilities were installed, in cooperation with J. G. McClungs Clearwater Ice Plant (which, incidentally, also provided all electric power to the city 22 Ibid., 13. 23 Ibid., 18.24 Ibid. Applying what he learned in New York, Dean Alvord moved to Clearwater, Florida and created Harbor Oaks. The new community had many of the hallmarks of Alvords earlier work, including large homes, wide streets and a system to fund the communitys upkeep.Courtesy of the Tampa-Hillsborough County Public Library System
C H O 29 of Clearwater). Any above-ground electrical infrastructure was strategically located at the rear of Harbor Oaks lots and painted green to blend in with the surrounding vegetation.25When Harbor Oaks opened initially in January 1914, the Alvord development was only partially completed. Efforts were made to preserve the natural beauty of the coastal landscape by creating a small lake and marsh in addition to planting numerous swamp oaks and palm trees along the parkways (similar to what Alvord had done in Brooklyns Prospect Park South). Tragically, one of E. H. Coachmans sons drowned in the vicinity of the small lake and marsh area. Subsequent efforts to promote residential safety and protect the exclusivity of the Harbor Oaks neighborhood through the use of deed restrictions were the positive by-product of the tragedy and served as precursors to municipal zoning and land use controls.26Deed Restrictions: An Alvord Innovation and Marketing Strategy In order to protect residential safety and property values, Alvord once again gleaned from his past developmental experience to establish deed restrictions for Harbor Oaks. These restrictions prevented commercial development, preserved structural compatibility (with respect to structure size, style, and types of materials used), and regulated land use/structural positioning/structural cost. As a result, homes built in Harbor Oaks were located on lots measuring 60 feet wide by 130 feet deep (with the exception of larger lots on the western edge of Druid Road, which had 400-foot setbacks, water access, and elevation drops to water level of nearly 25 feet).27 Structure size averaged more than 3,000 square feetpartly the result of the promise that the restrictions imposed would allow owners to maintain fully onethird the value of residence property because the dwelling-size restrictions had been established and were being enforced on a regular basis.28Ultimately Alvords deed restrictions could be viewed as a double-edged sword. While they maintained the residential exclusivity that wealthy Harbor Oaks homeowners (and prospective homeowners) desired, the deed restrictions also slowed the neighborhoods growth during the first ten years of its existence. It wasnt until the peak of the Florida Land Boom in 1925 that many of the remaining lots were sold and populated by prominent residents. Of the twenty lots that were unsold in the spring of 1925, only nine remained unsold in the fall of 1925; Harbor Oaks was completely sold out by 1927. Most of those initial Florida Land Boom residents were prominent industrialists from the Northeast and Midwest, several of whom had ties to the automobile industry.29The positive side of the double-edged sword of deed restrictions was the fact 25 Ibid. 26 Ibid., 25. 27 Ibid. 28 Ibid. 29 Ibid., 26.
30 Tn B H that maintaining governance of the restrictions (both legally and financially) became the mission of the newly formed Harbor Oaks Association. Created on February 17, 1920, the association required homeowners to contribute annual assessments to pay for maintaining streets, curbs, plants, etc. Composed of a nine-member board (with one representative from each of Harbor Oaks nine streets), the Harbor Oaks Association operated standing committees for finance, police and fire protection, streets and sidewalks, taxation, public utilities, and law. Yearly assessment values were also set by the appropriate subcommittee and submitted to the full board for approval. Benefits of such well-supported neighborhood governance were evident in the following excerpt from the Harbor Oaks Association Bylaws: The charm of Harbor Oakslies in the uniformity of planting and the continued upkeep of the plants, palms, trees, and parks. General municipal and state taxation has never been sufficient to properly plant, much less continually upkeep the street parkway in front of each home [in most neighborhoods of the era]. Harbor Oaks funds are expended entirely upon the street parkways in front of the building line of each plot, and the entire time of a gardener employed early by the Association is necessary for this work.30Today, the forward-thinking efforts of the original architects of the Harbor Oaks Association and its bylaws are clearly evident to the average citizen. Harbor Oaks continues to be a well-maintained neighborhood, with the association acting as a partial governance agent (although most of the mandatory assessments were eliminated decades ago). As a result, Harbor Oaks original street lamps, parkways, and public areas still exist in much the same condition as they did between 1914 and 1930. Still extant, too, are most of the significant homes whose plans and architectural styles were approved by past Harbor Oaks Association board members. A Marriage of Structural Details and Marketing: Community and Residential Architecture in Harbor Oaks As noted, Harbor Oaks was designed to consist of lots that were generally 60 feet wide and 130 feet deep. Many homeowners purchased two parcels to double their land footprint and obtain frontages ranging from 80 to 130 feet (achieved by obtaining either paired lots or creating a new lot using a full lot and portions of adjacent lots). With some exceptions, this allowed the homes to be constructed with what is known as a wide facade so that the widest portion of the homes profile was parallel to the street. Most structural setbacks in Harbor Oaks average 25 feet from the edge of the sidewalk.31 One of the primary reasons that the lot sizes and configurations became so successful was Dean Alvords insistence that significant residential streetscapes be 30 Ibid., 28.31 Ibid., 33.
C H O 31 created and joined with cohesive, visually appealing architecture to create a special character for Harbor Oaks. Just as Alvord had done in Belle Terre and Prospect Park South, he designed broad streets with wide parkways and sidewalks in Harbor Oaks. One street, Bay Avenue, contains an expansive esplanade, creating what amounts to an east-west division of the neighborhood. Streets are lined with swamp oak and palm trees dating back to 1915 and 1916 with ground-level streetlights from the same era. These prominent streetscape features are accentuated by sizable brick pillars placed at each of the entrances to the neighborhood.32 Not only did these pillars serve to define the boundaries of the Harbor Oaks neighborhood, but they contributed to the overall exclusive character of the area that Dean Alvord wished to achieve. Working in combination with the exclusive streetscape elements of the Harbor Oaks neighborhood are the architectural styles that grew out of Dean Alvords developmental vision but also from the contributions of Deans son Donald Alvord, who was responsible for many of the home designs in Harbor Oaks, particularly those modeled on the Prairie School. Donald Alvord was born February 27, 1892. He was Dean and Nellie Alvords second child, the first being son Harry, who was born June 12, 1886, and died in infancy on December 9, 1886.33 As the eldest Alvord child, Donald became Deans protg and entered into the housing development business with his father. It was Donald who brought an eclectic mix of familiar architectural styles into the Harbor Oaks neighborhood, giving the area the ambiance of quality that would attract the wealthy industrialists who would ultimately settle there. Following in Deans footsteps, Donald was involved in the design and construction of several speculative homes to whose provenance both he and Dean contributed by living in them for a short time. The Mediterranean Revival Homes of Dean Alvord and Herbert Harrison Since both Dean and Donald Alvord chose to design and build homes in Harbor Oaks that reflected the successful, well-known architectural styles of the late Victorian period, they were able to sell these homes to wealthy buyers from Americas East and Midwest. Not only did the architectural styles selected (as profiled in Harbor Oaks: A Historic and Architectural Survey and Presentation Plan ) reflect current tastes, but they also reflected unique adaptations to Floridas sunny, semi-tropical climate. For example, it appears that wide eaves, supported by heavy modillions, were incorporated into a majority of the designs. This directed the suns powerful rays away from the primary structure, but it also created a signature Alvord design feature of Harbor Oaks.34 Primarily a feature of the Prairie School of architecture, the wide eaves and modillion supports were indicative of the attempts made by both Alvords to brand Harbor Oaks as an Alvord labor of love, rather than a real estate 32 Ibid. 33 S. Alvord, A Genealogy of the Descendants of ALEXANDER ALVORD, 521.34 Harbor Oaks: A Historic and Architectural Survey and Presentation Plan, 33.
32 Tn B H speculation, as expressed in an ad in the December 14, 1914, St. Petersburg Daily Times. In the same ad, Harbor Oaks is portrayed thematically as The Pearl of the Pinellas Peninsula.35Architectural styles featured in Harbor Oaks included the following: Mediterranean Revival Prairie School Colonial Revival (including Dutch and French Eclectic derivatives) Classical School Bungalows (California and variations) Mission Style (California) Tudor Revival36Several of the notable homes in Harbor Oaks incorporated the Mediterranean Revival style. It is to the homes in this style and to the history of their owners, the automobile industrialists Herbert Harrison, Robert Brown, and John Mohler Studebaker III, that we now turn. A Mystery of Provenance: The Harrison/Plunkett House (205 Magnolia Drive) and the Dean Alvord House (208 Magnolia Drive) One of the Harbor Oaks homes with the most interesting provenance is identified in Harbor Oaks: A Historic and Architectural Survey and Presentation Plan as the Harrison/Plunkett House, located at 205 Magnolia Drive. This Mediterranean Revival home features several examples of elegant detailing, including the use of quoins, ornate entrance architraves, and the incorporation of large terraces into the design.37 The name of the home would seem to suggest that these details were the result of Donald Alvords interpretation of the desires of Herbert Champion Harrison, founder of the Harrison Radiator Company (later Delphi Thermal Systems, a unit of the original General Motors). Research reveals, however, that Harrison and his wife, Florence, never lived in 205 Magnolia Drive but instead became associated with the house at 208 Magnolia Drive, which the Harbor Oaks: A Historic and Architectural Survey and Presentation Plan identifies as the Dean Alvord House. Herbert Champion Harrison: Inventor and Global Industrialist Credited with developing what came to be know as the modern automotive radiator (which features a hexagon-shaped honeycomb core to absorb heat produced by the engines combustion over a wide surface area), Herbert C. Harrison was born on October 4, 1876, in Calcutta, India, as a British subject. Herberts father served as the controller general of the Indian Civil Service, which operated under British 35 Ibid., 21. 36 Ibid., 34. 37 Ibid., 34.
C H O 33 rule. 38 As a child, Harrison returned to England to study at the Rugby School, and he graduated from Oxford University in 1900. 39After accepting a position as vice president of the Susquehanna Smelting Company, Harrison and his wife, Florence (whom he had met in London and married in 1900), moved to Lockport, New York. It was here that Harrison founded the Harrison Radiator Company in 1910. As mentioned, the Harrison Radiator Company later became a part of the original General Motors when GM founder Willam Durant created the company United Motors (headed by Alfred P. Sloan) and purchased the Harrison Radiator Company in 1916. (United Motors, comprised of several automobile parts companies, became, along with Harrison Radiator, a division of GM of in 1917.)40 Harrison continued as president of the Harrison Radiator Company until his untimely death in London on March 6, 1927. 208 Magnolia Drive: The Real Harrison House? According to noted Clearwater historian Michael Sanders, the Harrison/ Plunkett House at 205 Magnolia Drive was originally designed to house Herbert and Florence Harrison. Harrison had commissioned Donald Alvord to design the home in early 1926. Construction of 205 Magnolia Drive began in early 1927.41 Significant architectural features of 205 Magnolia Drive include ornate detailing affixed to the front and side facades of the home (i.e., the use of quoins, entrance architraves, and large terraces).42 Additional details on 205 Magnolia Drive typical of the Florida adaptation of the Mediterranean Revival architectural style that began development in the late 1910sinclude the use of Spanish barrel clay gable roof, a stucco exterior adorned with terra-cotta decorative elements, use of a loggia and arcade on the multistory footprint of the home, additional cartouches and tile on the east, north, and south facades, an ornate entrance door, and augmented window surroundings.43 In addition, Tiffany Metzig, Clearwater-area realtor and longtime Harbor Oaks historian, has identified the symmetrical nature of the north/south/ east facades, and the fact that the augmented window surroundings are accentuated by the large first-story windows, with a similar appearance mimicked on the smaller second-story windows.44However, due to Harrisons unexpected death, Florence Harrison was charged with the decision to either finish the project intended for her and Herbert or proceed 38 E. F. Harrison, Family notes, showing the descendants of the great-grandfathers of the Revd. tomas Harrison and Jemima Elizabeth Branbll (1897).39 Ibid. 40 Josh Davidson, United Motors Division (part of the Generations of American History) (De troit: General Motors Heritage Center, 2007), http://history.gmheritagecenter.com/wiki/index.php/ United_Motors_Division. 41 Michael Sanders, e-mail to the author, January 8, 2011. 42 Harbor Oaks: A Historic and Architectural Survey and Presentation Plan, 34.43 Michael Sanders, e-mail to the author, April 23, 2011. 44 Tiany Metzig, e-mail to the author, May 1, 2011.
34 Tn B H in a different direction. Her choice to take a different direction showed Florence Harrison acting as a decision maker and manager, a role uncharacteristic for a woman of that time. Donald Alvord had designed a smaller speculation home at 208 Magnolia Drive that incorporated several of the same grand Mediterranean Revival features designed for the 205 Magnolia Drive residence. Construction of this home began around early 1928 and was probably completed in early 1929. Subsequently, Dean Alvord became the owner of this speculation property. According to Dr. Mohinder S. Bhattia noted industrial engineer (who worked for Delphi Thermal Systems from 1971 until the mid-1990s), holder of several thermo cooling system patents, and a well-respected historian on Herbert C. HarrisonFlorence Harrison decided not to proceed with the 205 Magnolia Drive construction project and purchased the 208 Magnolia Drive speculation home from Dean Alvord. Bhatti provides the following provenance for 208 Magnolia Drive, often known as the Dean Alvord House: The Harrison Harbor Oaks Home [208 Magnolia Drive] in Clearwater, FL was bought by Florence Maria Harrisonthe widow of Herbert Champion Harrisonsometime after 1927, the year her husband passed away while on a business trip in England. Based on the letters that were exchanged between Florence and the seller of This view of Magnolia Drive is facing west toward Clearwater Harbor and the Gulf of Mexico. Though not reflected in the architecture, the waterfront location of Harbor Oaks gave the development an element of the Florida lifestyle.Courtesy of the Tampa-Hillsborough County Public Library System
C H O 35 the Harbor Oaks Home [Dean Alvord], it appears that the seller was at first reluctant to deal withÂ a woman in the real estate transaction. However,Â he soon realized that Florence was an exceedingly competent and resourcefulÂ woman. By the time the transaction was completed,Â he [Dean Alvord] was highly complimentary of herÂ dealings with him. Until 1942, the house was used as the winter home by the Harrison family. Florence died in 1942 and at that point her oldest son Arthur acquired the house and the Harrison family continued to use it as the winter home until 1948 whenÂ Arthur and his wife Joan moved from Western New York to Florida and the Harbor Oaks home became their principal residence. They continued to reside there until 1990 when both Arthur and Joan passed away. The house was sold sometime after 1990. 45Since the mystery surrounding the provenance of both the Harrison/Plunkett House at 205 Magnolia Drive and the Dean Alvord House at 208 Magnolia Drive (which, for all technical purposes, could be identified as the Florence Harrison House) appears to have been solved, some information as to the provenance of what was originally intended to be the Harrison House (and eventually became know as the Harrison/Plunkett House) is in order. According to Michael Sanders, the following describes the provenance of the Harrison/Plunkett House: 1927 Herbert Harrison started construction 1932 Plunkett acquired house 1940s Donald Alvord bought it as Spec house 1953 Linders bought it 1990s TheÂ Cousins acquired house 46A Colonial Revival Transformation: The Alvord/Brown House (802 Druid Road) In true Colonial Revival tradition, Dean Alvord built the original home at 802 Druid Road in the same vein that he constructed the homes in which he lived in Prospect Park South and Belle Terre. He built the homes to serve two purposesas residences in which to live for a time and as speculative homes meant to attract prospective buyers (and illustrating the overall building design and project execution capabilities of Dean and Donald Alvord, respectively). In the case of what would become Century Oaks, Robert S. Brownthe paint industrialist credited with developing one of the primary paint processes used in manufacturing the Model TAlvords original Colonial Revival design was adapted (some say with less-thanfavorable results) to reflect the tastes and accommodation needs of the new owner, Robert S. Brown.45 Mohinder S. Bhatti, e-mail to the author, December 18, 2010. 46 Michael Sanders, e-mail to the author, February 10, 2011.
36 Tn B H Robert S. Brown and Japan Black Paint According to McCalley and Boggesss The Evolution of the Model T Ford began producing black-only Model Ts from late 1914 to 1925. During this period, nearly 11.5 million black Model Ts were produced.47Automotive historians originally speculated that the decision to paint only one color was primarily based on the fact that the painting process (actually considered a varnishing process whereby parts were dipped in several paint solutions and used by Ford from 1914 to 1922) required time to dry, and black paint dried the most quickly. However, McCalley and Boggess refute that claim, instead drawing the following conclusions: Black paints used on Model Ts from 1914 to1925 were actually color varnishes that bear little resemblance to modern automotive finishes. More than thirty different types of black paint were used between 1914 and 1925 depending on their drying capabilities (i.e., air-drying versus oven-drying) and were also formulated to enable the paint to be applied to different parts of the Model T vehicle. Model Ts manufactured during the black paint era of 1914-25 were painted using techniques that included brushing, dipping, and flowing the paint onto the metal surface. Ford didnt adopt the modern technique of spraying paint until 1926. Black was chosen because it was cheap and durable. Black paints (especially those that contained the chemical asphaltum) exhibited better damp-proofing properties than other colors during the 1914 period.48One of the developers of the more than thirty types of black paint used on Model Ts was a man named Robert S. Brown. Brown was the founder of the Acme Quality Paint Company in Detroit, Michigan. This company supplied paints to the automotive companies including Ford and was later purchased in 1920 by SherwinWilliams, Inc. of Cleveland, Ohio.49It is speculated that Brown was principally involved in formulating one of the two formulas of the black paint used during the Model Ts 1914 manufacturing period. The processes, code-named F-101 and F-102, were based on what is known in the paint industry as Japan Black paint-formulation processes. Japan Black is a lacquer or varnish with a high bitumen content. It combines an asphalt base dissolved in turpentine or naphtha. Japan Blacks identified durability and rapid drying capabilities made it popular for use in vehicle manufacturing during the Model T era. In fact, the term Japan Black became so widely used that industry professionals 47 Bruce W. McCalley and Trent E. Boggess. e Evolution of the Model T. [Dearborn, Mich. : Benson Ford Research Center, ca. 1997], 35.48 Ibid., 41. 49 Sherwin Williams [company proble], in Hoovers Company Probles via Answers.com www.answers.com/topic/sherwin-williams-company.
C H O 37 referred frequently to the paint in the verb form; thus to have a surface japanned means to finish it in Japan Black.50While Browns association with one of Fords Japan Black paint processes is sketchy, the timeline that led him to purchase one of Dean Alvords speculation homes appears logical. According to OBurkes Charm and EleganceWatchwords for Century Oaks, Brown acquired Alvords Colonial Revival home located at 802 Druid Road and renamed it Century Oaks in honor of the century-old live oaks that shade the estate.51 Brown proceeded to adapt and modify the structure and the Colonial Revival elements of the property by building a multistory music room in which to place a five-thousand pipe organ.52In addition to the music room, the Robert S. Brown House features other additions and changes that deviate from the original Alvord Colonial Revival style. According to current owners Constantine and Elaine Chambers, Brown also added a morning room (with coffered ceiling), beamed ceilings to the living areas, and a billiard room that features terra-cotta inlays similar to those described in Florence Harrisons Mediterranean Revival home. Later, a sizable Greek pergola, carillon tower, bronze statuary and pool/tennis complex were added in the rear of the property, which overlooks Clearwater Bay53 Critics of the additions and changes to Century Oaks assert that the modifications to the structure and the grounds detract from the effect of Alvords original use of classic architectural designs in a tropical setting. They also note that the combining of multiple architectural elements imparts a flea market feel to the Brown House. While such comments are subjective, they highlight the challenges Alvord often faced in maintaining the overall architectural integrity and character of the communities he created as the areas became established and attempts to adapt and modify homes challenged the deed restrictions and other homeowners association regulations he helped to establish. Another Alvord Mediterranean Revival Adaptation: The John Mohler Studebaker III Home (415 Magnolia Avenue) While it is true that the use of deed restrictions in Harbor Oaks (to preserve the integrity of Dean Alvords vision for the community) were often challenged (as in the case of the Century Oaks/Michael S. Brown House), the same deed restrictions also enabled notable homes in the Harbor Oaks subdivision to maintain their architectural integrity within the neighborhood over time, evolving into graceful examples of the Alvord style. 50 Japan black,Â Wikipedia, te Free Encyclopedia Â http://en.wikipedia.org/w/index. php?title=Japan_black&oldid=424036142.51 John OBurke and Michael Laurance, Charm and EleganceWatchwords for Century Oaks, Tampa Bay Magazine, May/June, 1988, 104.52 Ibid., 105. 53 Ibid., 107.
38 Tn B H One such residence is the John Mohler (Jack) Studebaker III Home at 415 Magnolia Avenue. According to Michael Sanderss 1998 history of the residence, Studebaker commissioned Alvord to build the Mediterranean Revival home on a lot purchased from Alvords Harbor Oaks land inventory. The home was completed in 1925 and reflected the owners prominence as a well-known member of the longtime vehicle manufacturer Studebaker family, with the firms involvement in vehicle manufacturing (carriages, automobiles, trucks) dating back to the early 1800s.54Studebaker and the Vehicles of an Industrial Nation The Studebaker name is synonymous with a number of vehicles that played an important role in the industrialization of the United States. The involvement of Jack Studebaker in the operations of this vehicle-manufacturing dynasty began with his grandfather, John Mohler Studebakerone of the five original Studebaker brothers who founded the original Studebaker corporation. According to the Brief History presented by the Studebaker Family National Association, members of the Staudenbecher family (brothers Clement and Peter and a cousin Heimlich) emigrated from Hagen, Germany, to Philadelphia in the late 1700s, where the immigration officials used a number of spellings of their family name, including Studebaker. When the family farm near Welsh Run Creek in south Pennsylvania began to be raided by American Indians, the rest of the family emigrated in the early 1800s to what is now southwest Ohio. There the brothers operated a blacksmith business and began to build wagons, in addition to farming.55One of the brothers sons, John Mohler, left Ohio and traveled to California to participate in the Gold Rush of 1849. John Mohler later returned to Ohio with nearly eight thousand dollars in Gold Rush profits in hand and joined his brothers in expanding the wagon-building business on a large scale. It was this step that led Studebaker to develop into the corporate giant that it became for nearly a century, building wagons, automobiles, trucks, and other types of vehicles for both civilian and military use.56According to Beatty, Furlong, and Penningtons Studebaker: Less Than They Promised, John Mohler Studebaker served as president of what became the Studebaker Corporation until 1911. He retired in 1915, transferring the presidency to his sonin-law, Frederick S. Fish.57 John Mohler Studebakers son, John Mohler Jr., served on the companys Board of Directors but did not take an active role in the operations of 54 Michael Sanders, te History of the J. M. Studebaker III Home Magnolia Avenue, type script, 1998.55 Studebaker Family National Association, A Brief History [of the Studebaker Family], 2008, www. studebakerfamily.org/History/ABriefHistory/tabid/56/Default.aspx.56 Ibid. 57 Michael Beatty, Patrick Furlong, and Loren Pennington. Studebaker: Less an ey Promised (South Bend, Ind.: And Books, 1984), 14.
C H O 39 the business, 58 and neither did his son, John Mohler Jack Studebaker III, who was born on December 17, 1898.59 Transformation and Preservation: The Studebaker House and the Maturing Harbor Oaks Neighborhood It was twenty-eight-year-old Jack Studebaker III who, along with his wife, Lillian Bartlett, commissioned Donald Alvord to design and build a Mediterranean Revivalstyle home on the 415 Magnolia Avenue property in 1924. Like the Florence Harrison House at 208 Magnolia Avenue and what was to have been the Herbert Harrison House at 205 Magnolia Avenue, the Studebaker House features numerous Mediterranean Revival architectural details (as noted by Sanders in The History 58 Ibid., 17.59 Studebaker Family National Association, Descendants of John Clement Studebaker and Rebecca Mohler, [John Mohler Studebaker III entry], 2008, http://studebakerfamily.org/genealogypage/b225. htm#P225. Dean Alvords stately Harbor Oaks home, as photographed in 1945. Alvords development has withstood the test of time, which is fairly unique among Floridas 1920s boom-era subdivisions.Courtesy of the Tampa-Hillsborough County Public Library System
40 Tn B H of the J. M. Studebaker III Home) including a custom Cuban barrel-tile roof, use of a U-shaped courtyard, basketweave imported tile floors, and a large fireplace in the living room (which served as a focal point of the home).60 In addition, Donald Alvord chose to use stucco over hollow tile (which in later years was covered with vines, giving the outer walls of the home a unique, three-dimensional appearance). The use of stucco was accompanied by pairing matching arched window sets with wrought-iron balconies on the second level for balance as well as using a French front door flanked by an entry area covered in imported tile.61The Studebaker House also incorporated the aforementioned wide-facade structural profile that had become a signature Donald Alvord design element for Harbor Oaks and that included strategic placement of the large fireplaces chimney. An additional detached garage with integrated carriage house was positioned at the rear of the property, as was an adjoining garden area.62 A look at the initial provenance of the Studebaker House illustrates the perceived cachet of the Harbor Oaks community as well as the attractiveness of the Clearwater areas amenities to wealthy and prominent residents. Jack and Lillian Bartlett Studebaker owned the home until 1935. Mrs. Ellen J. Law owned the property from 1935 to 1955 and maintained it to the high standards established by the Studebakers. Jerome F. Tone then acquired the property and owned it until 1963. Jerome Tone was the brother of silent-film star Franchot Tone, who was married to Joan Crawford for a time. Franchot Tone is said to have stayed at the home frequently while his brother lived there.63Later provenance of the Studebaker House indicates changes in both the demographic composition of Harbor Oaks and its status as a community for wealthy residents and industrialists. An equally impressive group of professionals and families began to inhabit the area, including Dr. Morris and Betty Chrisler, who owned the Studebaker House from 1966 to 1983. According to Sanders, the Chrislers raised four children within the confines of the two-bedroom, four-bathroom home and added a large plexiglass dome over the U-shaped courtyard, which had continued to be open and grassy, featuring a rock pond with a bridge and fountain that Studebaker had commissioned initially.64Another feature the Chrisler family retained from the original Studebaker House was the basketweave tile floors. After the Chrisler family sold the Studebaker House to Don and Karen Walker (who lived in the home until 1992), the original Alvord design featuresparticularly the outside onesbegan to fade, as the Walkers made extensive renovations to the courtyard area by enclosing it with a large atrium and remodeling the interior extensively. Nevertheless, the Walkers did make an attempt to preserve the original 60 Michael Sanders, te J. M. Studebaker III Home, typescript, 1998, 1. 61 Ibid. 62 Ibid. 63 Ibid., 1.64 Ibid ., 2.
C H O 41 Alvord vision for the Studebaker House by retrieving and using the French front door (which was found in the garage), replacing a custom door the Chrislers had acquired.65 However, it was the current owners, Dr. Gary and Mary Dworkin, who, using the designs of Clearwater architect Alex Plisko, have made the greatest structural changes to the Studebaker House. They have constructed a Mediterranean Revival style addition to the home that includes an octagonal dining room cantilevered over a swimming pool, a large two-story garage addition with integrated balustrade, and a guest apartment upstairs coupled with a paneled pool room and sunken bar downstairs.66 Outdoors, the Dworkins added a large island to the area south of the courtyard large enough for the kids to camp on. The owners and visitors alike are able to access the island via a bridge over a koi-populated moat surrounding the island. To complete the effect of both the outdoors and indoor structural transformation of the Studebaker House, the Dworkins purchased an adjoining property on the western side of 415 Magnolia, which creates a dramatic footprint for the home and reinforces the estate ambiance that Dean Alvord originally envisioned for all of his developmentsincluding Harbor Oaks. Harbor Oaks and Estate Housing Developments in the Twenty-First Century While it can be said that Dean Alvords Harbor Oaks remains one of the most notable and well-preserved estate housing developments on Floridas west coast, the significance of Alvords community design and maintenance initiatives nationwide (i.e., plot configurations, street layout, community amenities, use of deed restrictions to maintain community structural integrity and continuity) continue to impact current housing development design, construction, and maintenance. The greatest challenges for individuals and firms that attempt to replicate Alvords successful recipe for housing development design, both on Floridas west coast and nationwide, will be economics and sustainability factors. Is there still a significant pool of people like Herbert C. Harrison, Robert S. Brown, and John Mohler Studebaker III with the financial resources needed to maintain homes like the Florence Harrison House, Century Oaks, and the Studebaker House in the condition demanded by the initial developers? Are there still developers like Dean Alvord in business today who play as important a role as he did in community governance and advocacy (both within their developments and at the local/state government levels)? How will the estate housing developments created on Floridas west coast since 1960 appear in contrast to Harbor Oaks when analyzed on the eve of their one-hundredth anniversary of existence? That final question may serve as the basis for a future study of Harbor Oaks in 2014, the developments onehundredth anniversary year. 65 Ibid. 66 Ibid.
42 T B H
T 43 R, D, rf C: T Tn Pftrn 1926, De Rhette Greene moved to Houston, Texas, from Tampa, Florida. Although he recalled Tampa as a charming and magical place, when Greene returned to Tampa fifty years later, he was shocked and appalled at how the city of his youth had changed. Franklin Street had been transformed into an outdoor shopping mall in a pitiful and futile attempt to revitalize the downtown core. Just across the Hillsborough River, the once beautiful sanctuary Plant Park had been desecrated by the addition of modern buildings. An ugly, tacky and tasteless suburban sprawl had all but destroyed the rural pleasures of Hillsborough County. Greene did like one thing, however, about modern Tampa. He called the Tampa International Airport the most beautiful and functionally efficient airport he had ever visited. Upon returning to Houston, Greene vowed to erase the Tampa he had just seen from his memory and keep enshrined in nostalgia the Tampa he once knew.1Its probable that many people in the mid-1970s would have preferred the Tampa that Greene remembered. An outdated convention center that hemorrhaged money, a costly expressway that nobody seemed to use, a first-year football team that lost all fourteen of its games, and a war against rats on Davis Islands. These were a few of the hallmarksnot exactly worthy of Chamber of Commerce recognitionthat defined Tampa in 1976. The still-growing city searched to find an identity amidst the backdrop of a depressed downtown, a fabulous international airport, and a burgeoning state university striving for more than just regional recognition. In a significant development, the first season of the Tampa Bay Buccaneers as an NFL expansion franchise helped put Tampa on the map as a major-league city. Tampa struggled mightily in 1976, however, to keep up with its new status. Growth and 1 Fifty Years Changes bings, Tampa Tribune, 10 September 1976, 21-A. Tn Pftr is a graduate of Loyola University of New Orleans and has an M.A. in history from the University of South Florida. He has written extensively on Tampa sports history for La Gaceta newspaper and is currently the Collections Manager at the Tampa Bay History Center.
44 T B H development had already begun, but the city was still a work in progress. Without a single defining incident, the events of 1976 in Tampa would, in many ways, have more of an impact in the years that followed. On the political front, the battle for the 1976 Democratic presidential nomination began with a local showdown over southern values between Alabama governor George Wallace and former Georgia governor Jimmy Carter. On February 3a month prior to the Florida primaryWallace supporters cried foul over Fire Chief Fred Andersons decision to make Carter an honorary fire chief during the candidates visit to Tampa. They alleged that Anderson had no right to engage in partisan politics on public property, even though the event was actually held 200 yards from the fire station. Carter pledged, however, that if elected he would have a fire chiefs hat from Tampa in my office. Presumably, since Carter promised he would never to lie to the American public, that very hat hung in the Oval Office between January 1977 and January 1981.2 Carter narrowly captured Hillsborough County over Wallace by 2,280 votes in the primary on March 9, defeating the man who had carried the county in the 1972 Democratic primary. Hillsborough County conformed to much of the rest of the state in voting for Carter, as well as for the incumbent President Gerald Ford over Ronald Reagan. Ford defeated Reagan in Hillsborough County by 2,300 votes. Interestingly, the third-place finisher in the Democratic primary, Henry Scoop Jackson, finished with 17,037 votes, almost as many votes as Ford and Reagan received in Hillsborough County combined. The 1976 presidential election would call into question Hillsboroughs status as safe conservative territory. The conservative politicians, Reagan and Wallace, were rejected in favor of the moderate candidates Ford and Carter. And in the presidential election in November, Hillsborough County went to a Democrat, by a 5-4 margin, for the first time since 1964.3While Carters election changed the national political landscape, Tampas sports landscape also changed irrevocably in 1976. Since the 1950s, the exotic sport of jai alai had captured the interestand disposable incomeof local patrons. Its popularity could be seen in the thousands of people who showed up on weekends at the fronton on Dale Mabry Highway just south of Gandy Boulevard. Professional soccer, though never as popular stateside as in other parts of the world, carved a niche locally with the successful Tampa Bay Rowdies of the North American Soccer League. In their first season of play, the Rowdies won the league championship the Soccer Bowlon August 24, 1975. Baseball, whether as a spring training hub or the home of the Florida State League Tampa Tarpons, could also count on the consistent support of local sports fans. For years, Tampa enjoyed football at the prep 2 Carter Stops in Tampa, Gets Fire Chiefs Hat, Tampa Tribune, 4 February 1976, 2-B.3 Carter Captures Hillsborough, Tampa Tribune, 10 March 1976, 1-B; County Shakes Safe Conservative Territory Label, Tampa Tribune, 11 March 1976, 1-B; Demos Sweep All Races in Hillsborough County, Tampa Tribune, 3 November 1976, 1-B.
T 45 and collegiate levels. Tampa Stadium played host to several National Football League exhibitions beginning in August 1968, but the city longed for a professional team to call its own. In 1974, the NFL awarded Tampa the leagues twenty-seventh franchise, to begin play in 1976. The inaugural season of Tampa Bay Buccaneer football proved worse than anyone could have imagined. Despite a wise first-ever draft choiceeventual Pro Football Hall of Famer Lee Roy Selmonthe Buccaneers were forced to stock their rosters with young, unproven players or injured, washed-up veterans from the twentysix other teams. In a decision that had as much to do with public relations as football, the Buccaneers traded a draft choice to the San Francisco 49ers to acquire former University of Florida quarterback Steve Spurrier. On the sidelines, the Buccaneers would be led by John McKay, a winner of four national championships as head coach at the University of Southern California. With McKay calling the shots and a former Heisman Trophywinning quarterback taking the snaps, Buccaneers fans had every reason to expect at least a few wins. Then reality struck. In a season in which the Buccaneers would be shut out five times, the team failed to score a single point in three of its first five contests, losing its first two games by a combined 43 mark. Although Tampa Bay racked up three field goals in its third Jimmy Carter, seen here with Hillsborough County campaign manager Elvin Martinez and volunteer Joe Cruz, attended a fundraiser at the American Legion Post 248 in West Tampa during the early stages of the 1976 presidential campaign. Photograph courtesy of the Tampa Bay History Center Collection
46 T B H gamea heartbreaking 14 loss at home to Buffaloit took four games before the team registered a touchdown, and even that came on a 44yard fumble recovery in a 42 loss at Baltimore. With a 0 record heading into a grudge match at Tampa Stadium against their expansion brethren, the winless Seattle Seahawks, the Buccaneers had the perfect opportunity to win its first game. Instead, beset by penalties and in inept offensive attack, Tampa Bay fell to Seattle 13 in the most winnable game they would play all season. The following week at home, the Buccaneers lost to the Miami Dolphins, 23. The Dolphins, who won the Super Bowl in 1972 and 1973, nearly suffered the most ignominious loss in team history, a game that linebacker Nick Bouniconti called a disgrace to everyone wearing a Dolphins uniform.4The season got progressively worse following the Miami game, as Tampa Bay would come no closer than within 10 points of winning a game the rest of the year. Overall, Tampa Bay gave up 40 points or more on four different occasions, and was outscored over the season by an unfathomable 287 points (412). Fans could take little consolation in the fact that three of the losses came by a combined 11 points, or that one additional score in any of those games would have provided a chance for a win. In fairness, the record should reflect that the Buccaneers suffered more injuries than any expansion franchise could possibly overcome. More than 70 percent of the players placed on injured reserve suffered knee injuries, ten of whom were starters or enjoyed significant playing time. Amidst the carnage, defensive end Pat Toomay said that the teams sideline resembled a Civil War infirmary.5 Out of the twentysix Buccaneers who missed at least one game because of an injury, a combined total of 183 man-games were missed over a fourteen-game season. Also, of the forty-two players who dressed for the final game, twenty were not on the squad when training camp started in July. Is it any wonder a team that cut seventy-two players between the first day of camp and the last game of the season finished with a 04 record?4 A Disgrace to All Dolphins Tampa Tribune, 25 October 1976, 4-C. 5 A Debilitating Case of Bucs Fever, December 2001, ESPN.com. Its easy to forget now, but in 1976 O.J. Simpson was one of the NFLs marquee stars. His one-and-only visit to Tampa Stadium as a player would be the second-highest attended game of the season behind only the Miami Dolphins. Image courtesy of the Tampa Tribune
T 47 When not being entertained by the citys new football team, Tampa played host to a steady stream of other celebrated events. A crowd of more than forty thousand packed Tampa Stadium in near 100-degree heat on the Fourth of July for a concert featuring the Eagles, Kenny Loggins and Jim Messina, and Fleetwood Mac. On September 2, Elvis Presley brought his Bicentennial Tour to the Tampa Bay area and made what turned out to be his final visit to Curtis Hixon Hall in front of a crowd of 7,398. Well past his heartthrob prime at this point, The King purportedly cut the show short due to the older, less enthusiastic crowd. International soccer legend Pele made his first appearance in Tampa Stadium before a nationally televised audience on CBS for a June 6 game between the Tampa Bay Rowdies and New York Cosmos. The crowd of 42,611 set the highest attendance mark for a regular-season soccer game in Tampa history. The Florida State Fairlong a source of entertainment and amusement for citizens of Tampafinally celebrated the completion of its new home in November on land located just east of Tampa at the junction of Interstate 4 and Highway 301.6While elephant rides might be associated with the State Fair, the words white elephant were associated with only one thing in 1976: the South Crosstown Expressway. Officially opened to motorists on February 21, the expressway took two years to build at a cost of $54 million, including an additional $21 million in cost overruns. Trumpeted as the most efficient means of traveling from Gandy Boulevard to downtownits clean, its safe and its fast, said Hillsborough County Expressway Authority executive director John Dobbinsthe expressway quickly became the target of criticism. The first stage of the expressway, from Gandy to Willow Avenue, opened in February, while the next phasea 1.2-mile stretch from Willow to Morgan Streetdid not open until April. Officials noted that unless an eastern extension were built, the 5.2-mile stretch from Gandy to downtown would not be able to pay for itself. In July, Expressway Authority member H. L. Culbreath criticized a proposal to offer free rides on the expressway as a means to increase traffic. In November, however, the commission approved a plan for four ride-for-free days per week to begin in January 1977. This desperate idea came as a result of the obvious: the road did not generate immediate revenue sufficient to pay off the debt incurred in its construction. The solution, which would ultimately come to fruition, depended on the extension of the expressway to Interstate 75, connecting downtown Tampa with eastern Hillsborough County and the growing community of Brandon.7 The South Crosstown Expressway generated as much controversy for what it 6 ,000 Excited Fans See Rock Concert, Tampa Tribune, 5 July 1976, 4-B; Elvis the Pelvis Knocks Em Dead, Tampa Tribune, 3 September 1976, 1-B; Pele Who!, Tampa Tribune, 7 June 1976, 1-A; State Fairs New Home Nears Finish, Tampa Tribune, 29 August 1976, 1-H. 7 Fog, Few Cars Greet Opening of X-Way, Tampa Tribune, 22 February 1976, 1-B; X-Ways Future a Concern As Last Leg Opens, Tampa Tribune, 2 April 1976, 1-B; Problem: Feeding a White Elephant, Tampa Tribune, 26 July 1976, 4-A; Free Days on X-Way Approved, Tampa Tribune, 25 November 1976, 1-B.
48 T B H did to Hyde Park and surrounding neighborhoods as it did for its financial troubles. The initial 5.2-mile stretch of the expressway required the destruction or relocation of hundreds of businesses and homes. The Hyde Park of 1976 bore little resemblance to the thriving neighborhood it is in the twenty-first century. Drug activity, seedy buildings, and rundown homes dominated the landscape. Still, construction of the toll road galvanized denizens of the neighborhood, who fought to preserve what remained. Jan Platt, who served on the Tampa City Council in 1976, believed a side effect of the expressway would be revitalization of Hyde Park through preserved schools, homes, and historical character. Now, thirty-five years later, property values in Hyde Park have skyrocketed, though the expressway is still criticized for not linking to the Gandy Bridge. In the words of J. Michael Shea, an original planner of the road, to many it remains an expressway to nowhere.8 An unintended consequence of the expressways construction was felt by residents of Davis Islands as well. Rats whose nests were disturbed by construction of the road sought refuge in the fashionable residential neighborhood. Their presence created such a stir that Hillsborough County commissioner Bob Bondi declared war on the rats of Davis Islands, calling for a federal grant that would ultimately provide funds for their extermination. Bondi deemed that a blitz on Davis Islands was the only way to deal with this emergency after State Representative Helen Gordon Davis appeared before the commission to complain about an infestation of rats on the islands. After a survey of fifty blocks of the islands, health department inspectors deemed that nearly 5 percent of the area had rat infestation. They also determined that the offending rodents were fruit rats, which run along power lines and live in palm trees. Civic-minded residents inundated Bondis office with suggestions on how to deal with the problem, including placing bounties on the rats or using federal dollars to buy cats for the island to control the rat population.9Unlike the much-maligned South Crosstown Expressway, Tampa International Airport (TIA) continued to bask in praise as it marked five years since the opening of its $81 million terminal in 1971. In a February Esquire magazine article that named TIA as The Best Airport in America, writer Calvin Trillin praised the airport for its outdoor shuttles, people-oriented design, and convenient parking garages. In November, the Civil Aeronautics Board awarded Tampa new nonstop routes to Denver, Tulsa, and Oklahoma City, bringing Continental airlines into the market and increasing the number of Braniff landings per day. Earlier in the year, National Airlines began offering direct service from Tampa to London, signaling the areas growth and rising importance as a tourist and business destination.108 Destruction Actually Improves Hyde Park, Tampa Tribune, 1 April 2001, 17-A. 9 War is Declared on Davis Islands Rats, Tampa Tribune, 19 June 1976, 1-B; Wanted Dead or Alive; Rodents on the Run, Tampa Tribune, 1 July 1976, 1-B; Critters Hide Out during Bondis Blitz, Tampa Tribune 1 July 1976, 1-B. 10 Magazine Says Airport Is Best, Tampa Tribune, 19 June 1976, 1-B; Growth in the Air, Tampa Tribune, 11 November 1976, 18-A.
T 49 Another thriving transportation outletthe Port of Tampasaw unprecedented growth in 1975. Still, revitalization and expansion were two of the challenges facing the port in 1976. While the city sought more cruise ship activity for the port, the eight cruise ship departures from Tampa that year were considered a move in the right direction. Today, the port anticipates more than four hundred cruise ship departures alone during the upcoming fiscal year. One of the largest public works projects in Tampas history began in 1976 as well: the deepening of the harbor. At a cost of $120 million, deepening the harbor from 34 to 43 feet allowed for super ocean liner traffic to enter Tampas port. Over $2 million in tax-free bonds were made available to the Tampa Port Authority to go toward construction of a new cargo terminal that would serve as a passenger terminal and U.S. customs depot. 11 Just as the Port of Tampa continued to grow, the Tampa Bay area grew in size and population. Between 1970 and 1975, the Tampa Bay area had already surpassed its growth rate for the entire 1960s. In a November 1975 survey, Sales Management magazine ranked the TampaSt. Petersburg area as the ninth-best growth market in the country. Major population shifts were seen in Town n Country, the neighborhoods surrounding the University of South Florida, and the bedroom community of Brandon. According to county planning statistics, the USF area experienced the 11 be Port Big and Busy, Tampa Tribune, 10 February 1976, 3-F. Completed in 1971, the new Landside/Airside terminal at Tampa International Airport earned immediate raves from travelers around the world. Along with professional sports, the modernization of TIA is credited with helping put Tampa on the map.Photograph courtesy of the Tampa Bay History Center Collection
50 T B H largest growth factor from 1970 to 1975. One study predicted that the TampaSt. Petersburg area would soon eclipse Miami in residents, and by 1980, would be the hub of new business activity in central Florida stretching from Tampa to Daytona Beach. The I-4 corridor, or Golden Girdle, according to Phillip Moore of the First Research Consultants, was where the action is and is going to be. Although Tampa had yet to develop into the city envisioned by Moore, the diversity of the citys economya combination of shipping and transportation, distribution and manufacturing, data processing and financial servicesenabled Tampa to avoid devastating effects from the national recession that occurred during the mid-1970s. Nevertheless, the TampaSt. Petersburg metro area suffered the dubious distinction of being one of eight urban centers in the country to experience unemployment at 10 percent or more, with fifty-three thousand people out of work. The construction industry in particular was at the root of the employment slump. In 1974, there were just over twenty thousand construction jobs in the Tampa Bay area. The residential construction business suffered locally, with a decrease in nearly eight thousand jobs by 1976. This area consistently ranks among the highest in unemployment, said Bob Byington, a labor analyst for the Florida State Employment Service in Tampa, and weve held that position for some time.12 The presence, however, of MacDill Air Force Base as a reliable contributor to Tampas economy cannot be underestimated. More than 6,000 uniformed soldiers and 1,200 civilians served at the U.S. Readiness Command Center in 1976. One notable civilian, Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld, visited MacDill on May 18 to attend a closed meeting of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. During a press conference at the Tampa Chamber of Commerce, Rumsfeld warned that the United States could become a second-rate military power if Congress continued to cut the defense budget. He predicted that would not happen, however, as the American people are not foolish, and they are not going to allow this country to cut corners on defense to the point where we have injected a fundamental instability into the world.13Like the rest of America in the 1970s, Tampa suffered because of instability in the Middle East and the consequences of the Arab oil embargo. In March 1976, Tampa endured the worst gasoline price war in the citys history, according to Jim Miller, the former president of Floridas Allied Gasoline Retailers Association. While it proved advantageous to consumers, with prices several cents below levels from the previous fall, dealers were forced into selling regular gasoline for 47.9 cents to 59.9 cents per gallon ($1.83 and $2.21 in todays dollars). Miller blamed the price war on an excess of gasoline as well as voluntary conservation methods that reduced 12 Tampas an Economic Champ, Tampa Tribune, 10 February 1976, 8-F; TampaSt. Pete Predicted Larger ban Miami, Tampa Tribune, 3 February 1976, 1-B; Tampas Industry: Many, Varied, Tampa Tribune, 10 February 1976, 2-F.13 Tampa Area Unemployment Still above 10 Percent, Tampa Tribune, 14 December 1976, 1-B; Rumsfeld: People Dont Want Defense Cuts, St. Petersburg Times, 19 May 1976, 10-A.
T 51 the demand for gasoline in Florida. The popularity of self-service stations in favor or more expensive full-service stations, as well as independent gas stations being pitted against franchised dealers, also led to the war. This ultimately led to a protest in front of the Highway Oil Co. at Cypress Street and Lois Avenue on March 18. Feeling undercut by the independent proprietor of Highway Oil, who sold his gas several cents lower per gallon than the franchises, eight competing dealers used their trucks to block the stations pumps. The protest lasted only a few hours and amounted to nothing more than great publicity for Highway Oil.14 Even if jobs and money were scarce commodities during 1976, two new indoor shopping malls opened in Tampa with the hope that those with jobs were willing to spend their money. The East Lake Square Mall, in East Tampa, and the Tampa Bay Center, across from Tampa Stadium, opened on consecutive days in early August. The shopping malls boasted a combined 2 million square feet, five department stores, and more than two hundred specialty stores. Despite the optimism and excitement that accompanied the opening of both shopping centers, neither would last longer than twenty-five years, as both were eventually driven out of business by a proliferation of suburban malls and a change in consumer shopping habits.15With two new major retail centers, shoppers had more options to choose from and, fortunately, fewer reasons to fear for their safety while out on the town. A report issued in April showed that crime in Tampa between January and February dropped 13 percent compared to the same two-month span in 1975. The greatest decreases were reported in rape, auto theft, and burglary, although the citizen band (CB) radio fad accounted for an increase in auto burglaries. Statistics released by the Tampa Police Department touted a decrease in murders from January to March as compared to the same three months in 1975. Despite the promising numbers early in the year, two major criminal events shocked Tampa in 1976.16The single-largest cocaine bust in U.S. Customs history happened at the banana docks in Tampa on June 17. Officials seized $39 million worth of the drug more than 166 pounds stuffed into seven garbage bagsas it was being taken off a Liberian freighter called the M.S. Ea. The ships track record for smuggling drugs caused customs agents to keep a two-day watch over the vessel. The drugs, possibly intended for delivery to New York, were described by customs officials as being of very pure qualityperhaps more than 90 per cent pure. In July, customs agents confiscated 13.9 pounds of cocaine from Ea s sister-ship, the Sirara. The two ships were virtually identical and, according to Edward M. Ellis, director of Customs in Tampa, were put under surveillance as known carriers of contraband.1714 Gas Dealers Report Price War in Tampa, Tampa Tribune, 11 March 1976, 1-A; Gasoline Protest, Tampa Tribune, 19 March 1976, 1-B.15 Two New Tampa Malls Opening, Tampa Tribune, 1 August 1976, 1-E.16 City Crime Rate Down 13 Per Cent, Tampa Tribune, 19 March 1976, 1-B; Tampa Police Report Decline in Murder Rate, Tampa Tribune, 16 April 1976, 2-B. 17 Huge Cocaine Haul Made, Tampa Tribune, 18 June 1976, 1-A; Agents Seize Cocaine on Banana Boat, Tampa Tribune, 17 July 1976, 1-B.
52 T B H While the cocaine busts provided positive publicity, one of the largest mass jailbreaks in Floridas history embarrassed Tampa in early April. Using homemade tools, thirty-three inmates escaped from the Hillsborough County stockade on Spruce Street (between Lois Avenue and Dale Mabry Highway) by prying open a door and climbing over barbed wire fences. Within two days of the break, twentyfive of the inmates had been recaptured. In February, the stockade earned the poorest overall rating of the countys three prisons. Originally designed to be a drunk tank, the stockade suffered from the effects of overcrowding. The east wing housed the countys entire female prisoner population, a situation described as a serious security hazard. The sheriff of Hillsborough County, Malcolm Beard, admitted that the stockade was not the Waldorf-Astoria but disputed the womens claims of poor treatment and substandard living conditions. A letter sent to the Tampa Tribune from the girls of the county stockade disputed Beards position and highlighted the lack of sympathy from matrons, bugs in the food, and denial of proper medical care. We are not expected to live in a mansion, but a pig pen, and thats what this place is, the letter said.18 Quite the opposite of a pig pen, the University of South Florida celebrated its twentieth anniversary in January. The university in many ways mirrored the city of Tampa and endured its own share of growing pains in 1976. This had nothing to do with the announced intention of four-year-old Ian Locklear, a student in a USF enrichment program for exceptional children, to run for president of the student government. Rather, Cecil M. Mackey, USFs second president, resigned his post on July 16 to take the presidency of Texas Tech University after just over five years on the job. Under Mackeys tenure, the university expanded with a school of medicine, a school of nursing, and regional campuses in Sarasota, Ft. Myers, and St. Petersburg. Many felt Mackey left USF because at Texas Tech he could focus on the educational, rather than administrative, side of running a university. Mackey allegedly complained about having to attend to budget details after the fiscal year had already begun. The Florida Board of Regents acted quickly to replace Mackey, appointing Tampa lawyer William Reece Smith Jr. as interim president on August 20. When Mackey left Tampa for Lubbock, he was honored by the Regents with a plaque and a resolution from chairman Marshall Criser saying that there has never been a finer man associated with the Florida university system.19Several months after Mackeys departure, the Board of Regents authorized a $7 million, 10,000-seat special events center to be built on campus. In addition, the Regents applied for $2.1 million in federal money to build a fine arts center and 18 Stockade Rating Poorest of bree in Hillsborough, Tampa Tribune, 15 April 1976, 1-B; Grand Jury to Probe Stockade Escape, Tampa Tribune, 17 April 1976, 1-B.19 Candidate Locklear binks Hell Be a Great President, Tampa Tribune, 6 December 1976, 1-B; USFs Cecil Mackey Goes to Texas Tech, Tampa Tribune, 17 July 19, 1-A; USF Interruption Is Regrettable, Tampa Tribune, 20 July 1976, 6-A; Tampa Lawyer to Head USF, Tampa Tribune, 21 August 1976, 1-A.
T 53 Like many civic events throughout 1976, Ye Mystic Krewe of Gasparilla chose to incorporate the celebration of the nations bicentennial anniversary into their festivities.Image courtesy of the Tampa Bay History Center Collection
54 T B H rehearsal hall. This came after months of speculation that USF and the City of Tampa would work together to build a concert hall downtown. Tampa mayor William F. Poe lobbied hard most of the year for USF to consider building its arts center downtown as a replacement for Curtis Hixon Hall. An agreement had been reached on June 24 between USF and the city in which both parties would split costs of construction. Excitement prevailed with thoughts of a revitalized downtown: a new concert hall, museums, a convention center, a renovated Tampa Theatre, and an expanded public library. These hopes were dashed, however, when USF decided to build on campus, leaving a cultural void in downtown for many years to come.20Just across the river from downtown, the Tampa Bay Hotel, although long since converted into the University of Tampa, finally earned recognition as a national historic landmark in September. It turned out to be a difficult year for other Tampa landmarks, however. The Chapin-Logan House, built on south Bayshore Boulevard during the 1890s, burned down on July 10. The two-story wooden-framed house had been unoccupied for six years but was slated for full restoration. The ninety-yearold Almeria Hotel, once a proud and stately downtown fixture on North Franklin Street, fell victim to progress in April to make room for the much-anticipated Quad Block development bordering Tampa Street, Kennedy Boulevard, Franklin Street, and Jackson Street. The historic building, once owned by Tampa pioneer Dr. Howell Tyson Lykes, held no special significance for Mayor Poe, who noted that the land would be readily available for additional city parking. Also that month, the landmark Sulphur Springs Arcade faced posteritys greatest enemy: the wrecking ball. The arcade, a fixture in north Tampa since the 1920s, had once served as a shopping and entertainment destination. The Nebraska Avenue site had also served as a terminus for the streetcar line, which by the mid-1970s had long since become a footnote in Tampa history. The demolition of the arcade paved the way for additional parking for the Tampa Greyhound Track.21 One local landmark that managed to endure, the Tampa Theatre, could have suffered a fate similar to the Sulphur Springs Arcade. In April, at the behest of Mayor Poe, the Tampa City Council agreed to accept the Tampa Theatre as a gift from the Smyrna Halifax Theater Corp., despite a fierce debate over the cost to the city. As early as January, the city council began hearing arguments over what to do with the fiftyyear-old theater. Charles Miller, an MIT planner under contract with the city, said that a restored theater would start a turnaround in Tampas declining downtown. In taking over the theater, the city would assume a $28,000 annual lease, maintenance costs of $70,000, and repairs ranging from $300,000 to $500,000. Members of the 20 Regents Clear Way for Events Center, Tampa Tribune, 2 November 1976, 1-B; Cooperation Will Make Sweet Music, Tampa Tribune, 25 June 1976, 18-A. 21 Sulphur Springs Arcade Comes Tumblin Down, Tampa Tribune, 6 April 1976, 2-B; ChapinLogan House Destroyed by Fire, Tampa Tribune, 11 July 1976, 1-B; Tampa Landmark Surrenders to Progressand Dozer, Tampa Tribune, 6 June 1976, 1-B; Old Hotel Designated Landmark, Tampa Tribune, 27 September 1976, 2-B.
T 55 city council opposed the project for different reasons: Jan Platt opposed the project based on cost to the city; Sandy Freedman doubted that many people would travel downtown after dark for theater events because of safety issues; Lloyd Copeland did not think that $70,000 could adequately cover maintenance as outlined in the budget; In addition, he ridiculed the notion that downtown would improve with a renovated Tampa Theatre, calling that purely daydreaming. By the time of the councils vote in April, Platt and Freedman still objected, but for new reasons. They did not want to use money designated for the Art Councils proposed new facility planned near Curtis Hixon Hall. Mayor Poe, on the other hand, wanted $150,000 allocated from the $4 million set aside for the Arts Council, to be replaced in the following years budget if available. Ultimately, it was the Arts Council that would come to operate the theater. The budget for the project, however, limited the councils actions. Renovation subcommittee chairman Joan Jennewein pointed to 1,500 newly upholstered seats and the cleaning of the structure and artifacts as the only immediate improvements as the theater prepared for reopening in January 1977.22North of the Tampa Theatre in the Skid Row section of Franklin Street, the Saratoga Bar faced demolition in March to make way for a new office complex. The land would be developed into a state regional office center, which reports estimated would employ two thousand people by the year 2000. Situated near the interstate, it would serve as another Quad Block development to anchor the north end of Franklin Street. The destruction of the Saratoga, along with other buildings throughout downtown, was part of Mayor Poes ongoing effort to revitalize downtown Tampa. Poe made the revival of the citys economy one of the primary goals of his administration. Several projects were aimed at improving the standard of living in Tampa, though they would be a year behind schedule. Tampans could look hopefully to 1977 for completion of the citys $85 million sewage treatment plant, as well as a large-scale water system expansion project.23 In downtown Tampa alone, $150 million worth of city-related construction aimed at turning around the moribund section of town. By December, plans were already under way for the Quad Block redevelopmentwhich would feature modern office buildings, a hotel, and a retail centeron land south of Kennedy Boulevard between Tampa Street, Whiting Street, and Florida Avenue. New buildings would replace old, dilapidated structures. The already outdated Curtis Hixon Hall no longer suited purposes beyond conventions and banquets. The city desperately wanted a new performing arts center to host concerts and other events unsuitable for Curtis Hixon. In short, Poe wanted to make 22 Council to Decide on City Takeover of Tampa beatre, Tampa Tribune, 6 January 1976, 3-B; City Council Turns Down Ticket to Old Tampa beatre, Tampa Tribune, 7 January 1976, 2-B; Tampa to Restore beatre, Tampa Tribune, 30 April 1976, 1-B; City Gives Face-Lift to beatre, Tampa Tribune, 19 September 1976, 1-B. 23 Poe Lists Eorts on Economy, Tampa Tribune, 23 April 1976, 1-B; Sewage Plant Construction is Delayed, Tampa Tribune, 8 January 1976, 2-B.
56 T B H downtown Tampa a better place for businesses while upgrading its cultural offering as well.24 The citys ill-fated dance with USF in trying to plan a cultural arts center for downtown seemed to complicate matters for the mayor. Originally, Poe wanted to convert Curtis Hixon Hall into a cultural center. A feasibility study by Charles Miller explored the possibility of converting Curtis Hixons facilities into a multipurpose building for $4 million, which would house a music hall, dance theater, visual arts center, and childrens museum. Eliminating the convention facilities, however, would have caused serious damage to the downtown economy, affecting primarily hotels and restaurants, to the tune of $1 million annually. Poe ultimately favored keeping Hixon as a convention-entertainment entity, despite its operating at an annual deficit of $437,000. Given the quality of the hall, its easy to see why the city sought new ways to make it profitable. Curtis Hixon Hall was designed to be a convention center, but unfortunately, it also served as a center for performing arts. The lack of a traditional arts center in Tampa made Curtis Hixon the default site for such events, despite having its acoustical quality compared to a cement barn. Because of high overhead and maintenance costs, the hall lost money every day it hosted an event. While conventions brought money into Tampa and breathed life into downtown, the city could not actually make any money from conventions held at Curtis Hixon. As for cultural events not held at the hall, the aged McKay Auditorium on the University of Tampa campus or Fort Homer Hesterly Auditorium in West Tampa were the only alternative sites in the city. Is it any wonder the city tried so desperately to work with USF in building its performance hall downtown instead of on its own campus?25The Riverwalk proposal was another idea conceived to revitalize downtown. Proposed by the Greater Tampa Bicentennial Council, Riverwalk would have 24 Few Tears Shed as Skid Row Remnants Fall, Tampa Tribune, 26 March 1976, 1-B; Report on Quad Block, Tampa Tribune, 29 December 1976, 1-A. 25 Hixon Hall Eyed for Arts Center, Tampa Tribune, 31 January 1976, 1-B; Hixon Hall Isnt Arts Center Answer, Tampa Tribune, 10 February 1976, 16-A; Mayor Favors Curtis Hixon for Meetings, Tampa Tribune, 25 February 1976, 1-B; Designed for Conventions, Hall Serves 2nd Role, Tampa Tribune, 13 August 1976, 1-B. Although bumper stickers touting the Bicentennial Riverwalk could be seen on cars all over town, the Riverwalk remains a work-in-progress 35 years later.Image courtesy of the Tampa Bay History Center Collection
T 57 connected both the east and west banks of the Hillsborough River, as well as serving as Tampas lasting memorial to the Bicentennial of 1976. Costs were estimated at anywhere from $500,000 to $900,000. Riverwalk was intended to link new and proposed activity centers in a pedestrian-friendly manner while at the same time giving people a sense of involvement in the project by encouraging them to purchase wooden planks for twenty-five dollars apiece. Advertisements of the day suggested that people get aboard buy a plank. Tampa Bay Buccaneers defensive back Ricky Davis got on board and purchased a plank, noting that he hoped his contribution would cover part of my civic rent to a fine community.26The city of Tampa ended 1976 pointed in the right direction. Clearly, community leaders had identified aspects of city life that needed to be improved. Efforts to revitalize downtown had both begun and continued in 1976. By the early 1980s, downtown Tampa would begin to see benefits from the planning that occurred in the mid-1970s. Residents of Tampa can point to 1976, for instance, as one of the turning points in the survival of the Tampa Theatre. Progress continues to be made on the downtown Riverwalk project, now entering its fifth decade of planning and construction. Today, museums on the former site of the Curtis Hixon Hallin the aptly named Curtis Hixon Parkbring visitors into downtown on a daily basis. A boom in restaurants and high-rise residential towers has once again made downtown an after-dark destination, something the denizens of Tampa thirty-five years ago, and maybe even De Rhette Greene, would have called progress. 26 River Walk Proposed as Project, Tampa Tribune, 7 January 1976, 1-B; A Peoples Project: be River Walk, Tampa Tribune, 12 January 1976, 12-A; To Get Aboard, Tampa Tribune, 9 August 1976, 6-A; Proper Spirit in Civic Rent, Tampa Tribune, 26 August 1976, 16-A.
58 T B H
Book R 59 Florida, Mapping the Sunshine State through History: Rare and Unusual Maps from the Library of Congress By Vincent Virga and E. Lynne Wright. (Guilford, Conn.: Globe Pequot Press, 2011. x, 117 pp. Foreword by Vincent Virga, introduction, color illustrations, acknowledgments, notes, about the authors. $24.95, cloth.) This beautifully produced volume of maps dating from the late 1500s to the late 1900s and the accompanying narrative provide a striking panorama of Floridas extensive recorded history. Indeed, beginning with the arrival of Ponce de Leon in 1513, the authors note, Florida has the longest documented history of any state in the United States, and this history is bound up intimately with its geography (1). This is the eighth book in a series, Mapping States through History, that will ultimately include all fifty states, the first series to assemblein full color, state by statean in-depth collection of historically significant maps (book jacket). Vincent Virga, the series editor, aims to thrust us all into a new intimacy with the American experience via word and image (viii). The series grows from the relatively recent shift in consciousness about the physical, mental, and spiritual relevance of maps in understanding our lives on Earth, Virga writes (viii). For Americans, he believes, maps used as a primary source can convey what each succeeding generation in its pursuit of happiness accomplished andwithout hiding the dark side of the countrys historystrengthen the positive aspects of its national identity and values: the ability to remedy our mistakes, to adjust to changing circumstances, to debate, and then move on in new directions that seem better for all (ixx). Wrights narrative successfully compresses Floridas history into a handful of brief chapters. She covers the basic course of events in efficient, textbook-like prose, but also conveys deep sorrow about travesties of justice and massacres that have punctuated the troubled relations between whites, Indians, and blacks in Florida. Her particular strength in womens history is also apparent. Above all, she writes with urgency about the development of Floridas infrastructure and real estate and its impact on the natural environment. The main weakness of the book is the brevity of the captions. Virga asserts that a map is a first-person, visual narrative crammed with very particular insights to the process of social history (viii), but the captions do almost nothing to explain the richly detailed portrayals of landscape and settlement in these particular maps. Readers are left to decipher most of the features on their own, and many of the maps are not large enough in this format to make that possible. B R
60 T B H (Fortunately, the book includes a Notes section at the end with a Library of Congress call number for each map, enabling the reader to order a reproduction or view the map online at the Library of Congress website). Perhaps Virga and Wright simply needed more time to look at each map and point out a few salient details for the reader, a task that might have also required additional research or the help of experts in each historical period. As it is, the book falls short of a laudable goal for the series, which Virga lays out in the introduction: to allow the reader to experience a map as a true cultural landscape (vii). Oddly, the book ends with a map from 1990, which, more than twenty years later, makes the book feel culturally out-of-date. Part of the books impact is seeing the techniques and art of cartography evolve over more than four hundred years, along with Floridas physical development. A satellite or other computer-generated map of the state might have been included, to bring the story into the digital age. Nonetheless, for anyone interested in maps and American history, and especially for readers with a connection to Florida and Tampa Bay, the book is a visual feast and highly informative. The maps show the earliest European contacts and exploration, including Hernando de Sotos path to the Mississippi; they focus on areas of urban growth, including Pensacola, St. Augustine, Tampa, Key West, Jacksonville, Orlando, Tallahassee, Miami, and the large beach resorts; and they display the dramatic expansion of infrastructureespecially railroadsconnecting these destinations across the state. The book describes the achievements of visionary businessmen, politicians, and developers, including William D. Chipley, Henry B. Plant, Henry Flagler, and Vicente Martinez Ybor, even as it spotlights the role of Marjory Stoneman Douglas in sounding the alarm about threats to the natural environment. Ultimately, the authors celebrate the Sunshine Statethe Land of Flowers, as Ponce de Leon named itin all its extraordinary natural beauty and abundance. With all of its coastline and beaches, bays, lagoons, rivers, lakes, and springs, they note, there is not much, geographically speaking, that residents of the Florida peninsula dont have to brag about (book jacket). B S New York, NY
Book R 61 Frank Lloyd Wrights Florida Southern College. By Dale Allen Gyure. (Gainesville: University Press of Florida, 2010. xvi, 237 pp. List of illustrations, foreword by Raymond Arsenault and Gary R. Mormino, acknowledgments, introduction, photographs, illustrations, drawings, notes, bibliography, index. $39.95, cloth.) Frank Lloyd Wright was one of Americas most celebrated architects at the beginning of the modern era in architectural design in the United States, and his notable works of architecture are well known. Little, however, has been researched and written about his accomplishments at Florida Southern College in Lakeland. Dale Allen Gyures book Frank Lloyd Wrights Florida Southern College is an attempt to fill a literary and scholarly void on the protracted process and physical evolution of the schools West Campus from 1938 to 1957. This process culminated in the largest unified collection of Wright-designed buildings in a single location (1). Unlike many books that focus on Wright and his illustrious career, this book provides a timely and in-depth account of the working relationship between Wright and Florida Southerns dynamic president, Ludd M. Spivey. For Wright, this was the longest client/architect relationship of his career. Woven into the narrative theme of this book are the progressive philosophies on Protestant theology and higher education held by Spivey and the ideas about a modern, regionally based architecture held by Wright. Combined, these ideas influenced the design of both the West Campus and all of its buildings from inception. The book focuses equally on the ongoing dialogue between Spivey and Wright, the design of the West Campus plan, and the design of eighteen individual buildingseleven of which were ultimately constructed. Throughout the book, Gyure also reveals four of Wrights guiding philosophies that characterized his work during his almost twenty-year involvement with Florida Southern College. These philosophies include the relationship between man and nature, the significance of site and context as a design determinant, his beliefs in how buildings should be a reflection of democracy, and his shared beliefs with Ludd M. Spivey that higher education should be based on progressive ideals. Throughout the book, the author draws a number of distinct contrasts between the de rigueur neoclassical or Beaux-Arts tradition of university campus planning and building design, and the modernist design approach Wright uses at Florida Southern College. However, in a seemingly contradictory manner in later chapters of the book, he draws several comparisons between Florida Southern and Thomas Jeffersons design for the University of Virginia. In summation, he describes Florida Southern as a milestone in the history of American college architecture (2) and the first college in the United States to be designed completely as a modernist composition. From their initial discussions about the college, Spivey asked Wright to develop a campus plan that would thrust this small Methodist college into the public consciousness (2). In honoring this request, Wright expressed the need for a
62 T B H type of regional modernism that best reflected the subtropical context of Lakeland. This perspective led to Wrights overarching design concept for Florida Southerns campus as a child of the sun, where buildings should seem to grow from the earth and belong as trees belong (44). For readers interested in Wrights design methods, Gyure suggests that Florida Southern was a transition point for Wright. After several drafts of the initial plan, Wright relied extensively on the 30 and 60 angle to establish a uniquely unorthodox plan order. This angular geometry also was used as a way to define the functional order of the campus and to introduce a sense of movement that countered the stationary buildings (42). Wright describes the use of this angular geometry as a type of reflex anglea design concept based on a diagonal that was more natural and therefore more fitting to human behavior than the right angle (42). This approach indicates a clear departure from his use of orthogonal geometries in several previous commissions. In the final campus plan, this geometry served as a strategic armature for building placement and relationships. Wrights plan for the West Campus resulted in an academic complex that appears to be constantly shifting amid the backdrop of orange trees, the gentle slope of the site, and the Lake Hollingsworth waterfront and is meant to be experienced from multiple points (62). Relative to individual buildings, Gyure utilizes a type of interpretive design analysis to describe Wrights approaches that are inspired by extracted patterns from the landscape. The physical manifestations of this inspiration resulted in buildings based on a number of different plane geometrical shapes, such as circles and hexagons as well as squares and rectangles. For the remainder of the book, Gyure provides a detailed account of all of the Wright-designed buildings, some of the materials and methods of construction used during the four eras of expansion, and other major events that defined the physical context of the college for the next twenty years. These time frames are described as: a period of struggle and initial growth (1938); the war years (1941), a period of minimal growth and a significant drop in student enrollment; the postwar years (1946), characterized by new growth that represented Wrights ideas for a Florida Form; and, finally, a new era (1957 1959), or, more appropriately, the end of an era, as the school began to divert most of its resources to maintaining existing buildings when Wright died. This book is a well-researched and well-written account of the evolution of how this small Methodist college gained widespread notoriety by having Frank Lloyd Wright as its campus planner and architect for almost two decades. Even though there is a wealth of information written about Wright and some of his more well-known commissions, this book provides a much clearer picture of the historical, cultural, and design importance of the Florida Southern campus. This book will appeal to educators, historians, designers, and the broader lay public that has an interest in Wrights contributions to the material culture of the country. As a scholarly document, Dale Allen Gyures Frank Lloyd Wrights Florida Southern College is an important contribution to the literature on the long and illustrious career of one of the countrys
Book R 63 greatest architects of the early modern era, as well as a lucid account of the evolution of the most acclaimed multibuilding design intervention of Wrights career. T T G University of South Florida Cross Creek Kitchens: Seasonal Recipes and Reflections 2nd ed. By Sally Morrison. Illustrations by Kate Barnes. (Gainesville: University Press of Florida, 2011. 224 pp. Prologue, recipe contents, illustrations, index. $24.95, cloth.) Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings left behind a treasure trove of writings about Florida. Among the most illuminating of her books was Cross Creek Cookery, a cookbook with charming tales and anecdotes about Florida living and cooking. She also left behind her house at Cross Creek, made famous by her novel of the same name. As caretaker of Rawlingss Cross Creek estate in the 1980s, Sally Morrison found the home lacking in amenities but not in charm. Inspired in part by Rawlingss legacy, Morrison penned her own cookbook in 1983 called Cross Creek Kitchens: Seasonal Recipes and Reflections. Morrison and the artist Kate Barnes collaborated on the book, motivated in part by visitors nostalgia for simple country living. According to the back covers text, their book features southern fare and local favorite recipes interlaced with stories of life in the small community made famous by Rawlings. They also hoped to provide an updated version of Florida cuisine for todays nutritional sensibilities: Marjories cookbook emphasized company fareon the rich side and not recommended for daily consumption. Aware of the modern inclination for low-calorie, natural foods, we offer this lighter, more contemporary version of Florida country cooking as a companion to the earlier regional classic (10). The prose in this volume does its best to evoke Floridas seasons and local recreational activities. Morrison also highlights the social nature of food preparation and consumption, writing with a sentimental eye of quiet visits and large parties. There are breezy anecdotes about cooking and roughing it the way Rawlings did, but these stories rarely help the reader to understand the importance of certain products or preparations to life in Cross Creek. Instead, the anecdotes dwell largely on Morrisons own experience of visiting with friends and offering hospitality. The black-and-white illustrations are competent and quaint, but mostly act as filler. The complete absence of photographs of the land or the prepared recipes themselves does nothing to make the book more appealing. The book, in short, is a personal memoir of Cross Creeks caretaker, not a broad exploration of Florida cooking. There is little apparent influence from Rawlings
64 T B H herself, let alone from her kitchen. All traces of lard and meat have been eradicated from Morrisons version of Cross Creek. Instead of down-home comfort food, a reader finds health food dressed up like country cooking. The book fails not because Morrison wanted to create healthy recipes, but because she lost Old Florida in the process. Without a focus upon traditional Florida food, the book loses sight of the ostensible reason it was created in the first place. Reading the book, one is left wondering what the recipes have to do with Cross Creek at all. Dishes such as chilled tofu salad, miso vegetable soup, ginger stir-fry, and tabouli do little to evoke Old Florida and seem out of place. There are also puzzling and inexplicable omissions. Neither grits nor hominy appears in the book at all. The lack of wild game is glaring and inexplicable, especially given the perennial enthusiasm for hunting in Florida. With only six recipes containing seafood, one of Floridas culinary trump cards is largely left out of play. Beef and pork are completely absent from Morrisons Cross Creek. In light of Floridas cattle industry and its robust stock of feral hogs, their omission is inexcusable. Instead, there is an abundance of recipes calling for poultry, especially chicken and turkey (although turkey, at least, can be hunted). If Morrison has dietary restrictions or aversions to hunting or grits, she never mentions it in the text. Her cooking sensibilities are as bland as her taste in ingredients. Some recipes are superfluous, such as avocado halves (with lemon juice, olive oil, and soy sauce). Her recipe for so-called barbecued chicken (144) calls for boneless, skinless chicken breasts to be cut in half, poached in water, then brushed with sauce and grilled over charcoal. If Morrison had bothered to reference local practice, she would have found that grilling does not produce barbecue, that chicken with no skin or bones will produce little flavor and be prone to drying out when cooked (hence the poaching). Barbecue in the Southeast almost invariably involves pork. Chicken breasts are for Yankees and their Weber grills. Pit masters around Florida would laugh at Morrisons recipe. In this age of Internet recipes and cooking shows, cookbooks must stake out unique niches in the market to be effective. Morrison had a potentially interesting idea with Cross Creek Kitchens, but she fails to connect her experiences and recipes to the traditional cooking of the Floridians she purports to describe. For a better read with authentic recipes, look to Rawlingss charming Cross Creek Cookery One is left to wonder why Cross Creek Kitchens has been reissued at all. A T. H University of South Florida
Book R 65 Sunshine Paradise: A History of Florida Tourism By Tracy J. Revels. (Gainesville: University Press of Florida, 2011. x, 192 pp. Foreword by Raymond Arsenault and Gary R. Mormino, B&W photographs and illustrations, acknowledgments, notes, selected readings, index. $26.95, cloth.) Florida is tourism, historian Tracy J. Revels proclaims. There is little to no hope of reclaiming any other identity for Florida; America would never relinquish its favorite toy (1). Today, however, there is serious concern that the state might not be able to live up to the reputation it has nurtured as a sunshine paradise (149). Countless traditional attractions such as Cypress Gardens have closed their doors, and many others are struggling. Infrastructure is neglected and crumbling. The unique natural environment that enticed so many visitors to Florida is endangered. Conflicts stemming from debates about tourism wrack many communities. Although tourists still stream into the Sunshine State, not everyone benefits equally from the influx. As a result, this sunshine paradise, Revels contends, will survive only with great love and care (152). To make peace with tourism and come to terms with our state, our image, and our distorted illusionary culture, she insists, Floridians must understand the states extensive history of tourism (4, 151). In Sunshine Paradise, an engaging and concise study, Revels traces this history, exploring shifts in tourism and the forces propelling these changes. As a third-generation Floridian, Revels is also concerned with the cultural problems and questions about identity arising from the states dependence on tourism (3). What exactly does it mean to be a Floridian? Are native Floridians also Southerners? (3) If Florida is not part of the South or the Sunbelt, then what is it? Florida, as Revels demonstrates, defies easy categorization, but rather has a long history of being a constantly evolving land of fantasy and illusion typically defined by outsiders but with residents also complicit in their promotion of the gaudy, the inauthentic, and the impermanent (4). Although archaeological evidence indicates that tourism has existed in Florida since its beginnings, and Juan Ponce de Leon is often touted as Floridas first tourist, Revels maintains that modern tourism in Florida began with Americanization, and she focuses on the forms it has taken in the nineteenth, twentieth, and twenty-first centuries (5, 8). Revels skillfully weaves existing scholarship on Florida tourism with evidence gathered from Florida ephemera, visitors firsthand accounts, newspapers, and magazines. Sunshine Paradise is organized into eight chapters and proceeds chronologically. The first major group of tourists she considers are the wealthy visitors tormented by a graveyard cough (tuberculosis) who traveled to Florida in the early nineteenth century seeking relief in the states salubrious air (6). Subsequent chapters explore Floridas transformation from a Southern sanitarium to a tropical playground that attracted sportsmen, Gilded Age tycoons, and tin-can tourists (23). Sunshine Paradise also features a chapter on tourism during the Great Depression, the New Deal, and World War II. The work concludes with an analysis of the modern,
66 T B H postWorld War II gaudy age of tourism, the theme-park era, and current efforts to lure Gen X and Gen Y travelers pursuing novelty and freedom (118, 47). In each chapter, Revels is also careful to examine tensions between tourists and residents. She explains, for example, that in nineteenth-century Florida, invalids were obnoxious to the healthy, and the healthy were frequently the bane of the indisposed (14). Revels also emphasizes how Florida tourism affected minorities such as Jews and African Americans, who were denied access to hotels and tourist destinations but who played essential, though often overlooked, roles in Floridas tourism industry. Similarly, tourism presented Seminoles, such as Willie Willie, who set up the Musa Isle Village and Trading Post, with both the dangers and opportunities of cultural exploitation (74). Revelss study is not a triumphalist accountwhile many tourists felt satisfied with their visits to Florida, others felt hoodwinked and misled; theme parks brought millions of visitors to Florida, but highways snarled, lakes fouled, and property taxes shot into the stratosphere (13, 127). One of Sunshine Paradises strengths is its balanced depiction of the good, the bad, and the ugly of Florida tourism. There is much to praise in this study, but some readers might question the authors depiction of Florida race relations and her claim that Floridas Jim Crow laws were not as harsh as the rest of the Souths (104). This criticism aside, Sunshine Paradise is an excellent addition to the University Press of Floridas Florida History and Culture series. Revelss work will likely be a foundational text in Florida history courses, and will also appeal to a broad audience interested in Florida, tourism, and marketing. Nr Cf University of Florida Salvaging the Real Florida: Lost and Found in the State of Dreams. By Bill Belleville. (Gainesville: University Press of Florida, 2011. 292 pp. Introduction. B&W photographs, maps, epilogue, acknowledgments. $24.95, cloth.) Anyone who has read Bill Bellevilles River of Lakes: A Journey on Floridas St. Johns River (2001) or his Losing It All to Sprawl: How Progress Ate My Cracker Landscape (2005) is familiar with the lament in his writers voice. He justifies that lament with the evidence he serves up, the clear-eyed vision he has for Florida, and the passion that issues from his words. His writing is poetic and his musing that of a nature-loving troubadour. His latest book reaffirms that his poetic work belongs with a class of Florida writers that includes Al Burt (too often forgotten), Archie Carr, Marjory Stoneman Douglas, Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings, Sidney Lanier, Harriet Beecher Stowe, and William Bartram.
Book R 67 The familiar lament is not as salient in Salvaging the Real Florida He writes, for example, after being inspired by a paddle down the Suwannee that ends with a starstudded night over the historic river, For anyone who cares about our natural places in Florida, there is something about all of this that is redemptive, that offers hope, even in the midst of great loss (118). Belleville follows the Archie Carr formula of celebrating Floridas natural endowments. He still turns a cold eye on the trampling, gouging, lacerating, scorching, mauling, draining, and eradicating that lies behind a perverted notion of progress. But he does not allow the conceit to get him down as he crisscrosses the state in search of the real Florida, an expression Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings used more than six decades ago to distinguish the indigenous landscape from the developed. Despite the abiding onslaught, Belleville assures the reader that nature endures with a timeless resolve (215). He shares his assurance with readers in forty-seven essays, each born from its own setting and depicting a singular experience. The latter include hiking through tangled scrubland and fertile hammocks, diving coral reefs and the cool depths of the Floridan Aquifer, kayaking a peaceful river or lake. Snakes, alligators, birds, insects, and fish abound. He also devotes one short essay to identifying his favorite books on Florida, another to miscellaneous pieces of art that collectively say something about his life on earth, and yet another to wandering through historic Sanford (which represents the wise use of an existing infrastructure). He prefers to think of his pattern of travel as sauntering, a term he borrows from Henry David Thoreau, which describes a mode of movement that combines reflection with the consideration of possibilities (4). He moves about often with a companiona scientist, recovering engineer, or fellow nature loverwho becomes a device for illustrating a point or illuminating a revelation. Nothingcolor, light, movement, sound, sensation escapes Bellevilles attention or detailed description. He knows every tree, every flower, every animal, every insect, and every place. If the tempo from essay to essay seems repetitive (which is difficult to avoid in a collection of this type), or if the first-person voice feels a bit intrusive in places, readers will find that eloquence and wisdom ultimately prevail. Salvaging the Real Florida is not a history book per se. But Belleville has read widely, even in primary source materials. He likes to know how others saw Florida long ago, and to compare that Florida with the one of today, and there is much to learn from him. He devotes an essay, for example, to the natural and social history of the coontie, a native plant with roots that were an important staple in indigenous and Cracker cultures. It had no worthy place in the generic, heavily sodded landscape of modern Florida and fell under the invading army of bulldozers. Then, in the twentyfirst century, it made a comeback as a practical and attractive drought-resistant xeriscaping plant. Belleville is keenly aware of how the past impinges on the present, and vice versa, and how the contemporary has too often been a poor substitute for the proven sustainability of the historic. One theme that carries through a majority of his essays
68 T B H is that Florida has always been a place of dreams, including conflicting dreams, such as those of real Florida and those of a made-over Florida. Bellevilles important book is in itself a part of salvaging the real Florida. J E. D University of Florida William Bartram and the Ghost Plantations of British East Florida By Daniel L. Schafer. (Gainesville: University Press of Florida, 2010. ix, 152 pp. List of figures, introduction, illustrations, maps, B&W photographs, epilogue, acknowledgements, notes, bibliography, index $24.95 cloth.) William Bartram and the Ghost Plantations of British East Florida offers, as its title suggests, an economic history of the St. Johns River valley through the lens of the pioneering naturalist. Daniel L. Schafer enlists decades of research, notably from British land records, to recover the comings, goings, profits, and losses of planters and absentee speculators from the mid-1760s to 1783. Bartram would seem to be the ideal source: he journeyed up the St. Johns in 1765 and again in 1774; failed as a planter there himself in 1766; and his 1791 Travels includes memorable scenes of alligator battles and a botanic sublime. But as Schafer notes, Bartram remained largely silent about property holdings. This point comes as no surprise to attentive readers of Travels. Experts on Bartram would even call the point obvious, and in its failure to bridge impressive (though narrowly focused) explorations of the archive with ongoing scholarly conversations, Ghost Plantations falls short. Chapter 1 recounts Bartrams first journey up the north-flowing St. Johns, made with his botanizing father, John, after the cession of Florida from Spain. Schafer reviews the written record of the tour (mostly Johns Diary), notes important landmarks such as Fort Picolata and the colossal failure that was Rollestown, and spools up a running commentary on placesthere then, here nowthat lasts through the book. After a short chapter on Williams disastrous stint as a planter, Schafer launches into Bartrams Second St. Johns River Expedition. (That Bartram actually made two trips up the St. Johns, in spring 1774 and again the following fall, is noted only in passinga key point sacrificed to Schafers approach.) A case against the naturalists famously uneven memory builds: patrons not mentioned (45), key details forgotten (47), and so on. But what were Bartrams reasons for writing Travels? Schafer seems to assume that the books sole purpose was to provide a record for the ex post facto historian. The next two chapters, on ghost plantations, move up the east and west side of the St. Johns respectively, drawing from impressive research on land holdings to offer an intriguing composite portrait of the region. After the Seven Years War, East
Book R 69 Florida saw an influx of planters, many of whom were just speculating but others who developed their property with houses, wharves, cleared land, and outbuildings. During the Revolution, the local economy benefited from a demand for naval stores. After the war, planters migrated to the Caribbean. These chapters draw from Shafers own outstanding website, New World in a State of Nature, which may actually serve as the better venue for this material. In Ghost Plantations, the same information is mired by a lack of thematic focus or narrative drive, and in lieu of a compelling argument, Schafer relies upon geographic markers to push his discussion along Beyond the Cowford (111), After passing Cowford (111), Beyond Trout River (112), Beyond Dames Point (113). A short epilogue defines what seems to be a major conflict in the books approach, how Bartrams overly active literary imagination cast a fog over real history (120), but the epilogues brevity only underscores a fundamental problem in Schafers book: that a simplistic thesis remained (unlike East Florida) undeveloped. Those interested in the history of the St. Johns River will find prompts for further study in William Bartram and the Ghost Plantations of British East Florida. Scholars and fans of the naturalist will wonder why Schafer cast such a narrow net for his research. Still others may wish for a broader sense of relevance. In this slim volume, William Bartram serves as a premise, a companion if you will, who carries Schafer up and down the river. But a premise is not a point, and in the absence of the latter, Ghost Plantations is much less a book than it should have been. T Hrr University of South Florida St. Petersburg Cypress Gardens, Americas Tropical Wonderland: How Dick Pope Invented Florida. By Lu Vickers. (Gainesville: University Press of Florida, 2010. 358 pp. Color and B&W photographs and illustrations, acknowledgments, notes, bibliography, index. $34.95, cloth.) Lu Vickerss Cypress Gardens, Americas Tropical Wonderland: How Dick Pope Invented Florida offers a breezy history of the pioneering attraction that long graced the shores of Winter Havens Lake Eloise. Although probably more at home on the coffee table than the scholars shelf, it is nevertheless an interesting account of the Gardens as both physical creation and romantic ideal. From tin-can tourists to the hyper-real mega-parks that now ring Orlando, the history of modern Floridas primary industry is much chronicled. Whether filtered through the prism of social history in Gary R. Morminos Land of Sunshine, State of Dreams, or deconstructed in Stephen Fjellmans Vinyl Leaves: Walt Disney World and America, tourists and their dollars stand at the center of the states twentieth-
70 T B H century story. But long before the mouse turned thousands of acres of swamp and scrub into a commodified fantasyland, Dick Pope manufactured his own fanciful Florida creationCypress Gardens. For a half century and for millions of Americans, Cypress Gardens was Florida. Though physically diminutive, Dick Pope possessed an outsized personality and professional drive that made him, Vickers reports, the Maharajah of the Muck (219). His family moved to the state in 1911, and two years later, thirteen-year-old Dick went to work in his fathers real estate office. By the early 1930s, Pope had morphed from local land booster to pop-culture impresario. With the assistance of dollar-a-day New Deal labor, he transformed his pristine lakeside parcel into an object of desire. Indeed, Pope hyperbolized local color and turned natural place into idealized destination. And over an impressive swath of time and historical circumstance, Popes Cypress Gardens remained the states premier tourist attraction. Vickers has assembled an impressive collection of first-person accounts, promotional photographs, and Gardens memorabilia. Apparently the Pope family saved much and was cognizant of its importance and legacy. Yet amidst her vast assemblage of flyers, press releases, and Barnum-like bombast, Dick Pope entertainment visionaryremains at the center of her story. Like Henry Flagler and Henry Plant before him, Dick Pope is a transformative figure in the creation that was twentieth-century Florida, contends Vickers. With the assistance and support of his wife, Julie, Pope never tired of hawking the Gardens. He was a master of free publicity and garnered impressive national coverage. For decades, Pope touted his tropical flora, southern belles, electric-powered boats, and, of course, Florida-shaped swimming pool. However, it was the ubiquitous shots of the Gardens ski shows that created the most indelible cultural imagery. Vickers quotes an Orlando publishers assessment of the Pope publicity machine: If ever the state of Florida hits another depression and finds it necessary to close its advertising offices, Florida will continue in the resort picture as long as Dick Pope lives (117). Celebrity appearances were also part of Popes promotional plan. In the 1960s, Esther Williams, Mike Douglas, and late-night king Johnny Carson all broadcast from the site. Even Jordans King Hussein showed up for private ski lessons from Pope. Yet the seeds for the Gardens demise were planted then, too. In 1965, Governor Haydon Burns announced that Walt Disney was the mystery buyer of a massive tract just forty minutes east of Popes showplace (207). Dick Pope initially rolled out the orange carpet for the California corporation (209). And while the Gardens did experience a short-lived surge in attendance after Disneys 1971 opening, by the early 1980s long-standing Florida attractions were suffering, and many had closed. It is here that Vickers is weakest. For while she need not long wrestle with scholars such as Jean Baudrillard, Umberto Eco, or even T. J. Jackson Lears, a little more analysis and theory would have helpedespecially when confronting the Disney phenomenon.
Book R 71 The last two decades of Cypress Gardens were unsettled. The park went through a series of owners and lackluster attempts to compete with the worlds of Orlando. In 1988, Dick Pope died. Twenty years later the sputtering Gardens closed, only to be rescued by the parent company of Legoland in 2010. Legoland Florida opened October 15, 2011. The management team has promised that the Gardens historic core will be an important component of its refurbished acquisition. Nevertheless, according to company pronouncements, the belles and Aqua Maids who once strolled the shores of Lake Eloise will give way to the swashbuckling denizens of a new feature, Pirates Cove. Lu Vickerss colorful book offers a trip back to a Florida that has never completely disappeared, yet will never fully return. It is a historical journey worth taking. Still, it is indeed ironic that the future of the attraction created by a man who lived Florida writ large now belongs to a company that specializes in the miniature. S E. B College of the Canyons Santa Clarita, California
72 T B H
74 T B H The Tampa Bay History Centers new home is Hillsborough County governments first Leadership in Energy and Environmental Design (LEED) Certified Building. In keeping withÂ our commitment to green initiatives, the text pages of this publication are printed on Finch Casa Opaque. Finch Casa is 30% post consumer waste recycled paper and is also fully recyclable. In addition, the cover is made from 10% post consumer recycled stock. The journal is printed with 100% soy inks, and all waste during the printing and bindery process is recycled.
The Tampa Bay History Center is a community oriented cultural institution that seeks to enlighten and enhance the lives of the residents and visitors of Tampa and Hillsborough County to the more than 12,000 years of Florida history. The History Centers mission is to serve and educate the community through discovery, preservation and interpretation of the rich cultural heritage of the people of Historic Hillsborough County and the Tampa Bay region and their relation to the state of Florida and the United States. The Florida Studies Center draws upon the University of South Florida Libraries extensive Floridiana collections and expertise to promote interdisciplinary teaching and research and to help the Tampa Bay community develop a better understanding of Floridas past, present, and future.
La Florida by Abraham Ortelius, was printed in 1584. By that time, much had been learned about the Spanish possession, but there were still great mysteries just beyond the shoreline that awaited future explorers. Courtesy of the J. Thomas and Lavinia Witt Touchton CollectionTampa Bay History Volume 25 / 2011 Published through a partnership between the Tampa Bay History Center and the University of South Florida Libraries Florida Studies Center