Floridaphobia

Phobias are a part of the human experience. Some are reasonable or instinctive: arachnaphobia (fear of spiders), acrophobia (heights) venustraphobia (fear of beautiful women). And, well, some of the others are just strange or obscure: dendrophobia (fear of trees) or barophobia (fear of gravity).

Some even border on the illogical, such as coulrophobia (fear of clowns), automatonopobia (fear of mannequins). Others make more sense such as apiphobia (fear of bees), trypanophobia (fear of injections).

The following is a list of interesting phobias illustrated through the images of Florida Memory. Continue at your own risk; otherwise, enjoy.

Coulrophobia – Clowns

Clown behind boy eating watermelon

Coulrophobia – Fear of Clowns

Trypanophobia and Myxophobia- Injections and  Slimy Things.

Portrait of Jack Rudloe injecting an octopus

Portrait of Jack Rudloe injecting an octopus

Anthropopseudodoraphobia – People Dressed as Mascots.

Sparky, dalmation fire dog costume

Sparky, dalmatian fire dog costume

Santaphobia- Santa Claus

Lewis Yates and Santa Claus - Christmas, Florida

Lewis Yates and Santa Claus – Christmas, Florida

Hippopotomonstrosesquipedaliophobia – Long Words

Docks and buildings on Chassahowitzka River

View Over the Chassahowitzka River

Thalassophobia/Lilapsophobia – The Sea/Hurricanes

Waves hit Navarre Pier hard during Hurricane Ivan's approach - Navarre Beach, Florida.

Waves hit Navarre Pier hard during Hurricane Ivan’s approach – Navarre Beach, Florida.

Hexakosioihexekontahexaphobia- The number 666

Building of Monticello Drug Company Monticello Drug Company, maker of Cold Remedy 666.

Building of Monticello Drug Company Monticello Drug Company, maker of Cold Remedy 666.

Apiphobia – Bees

Josh Ray, 21 year old beekeeper from Chattahoochee.

Josh Ray, 21 year old beekeeper from Chattahoochee, removing beehive.

Arachnaphobia – Spiders

A Wolf spider

 

Headin’ Down the Waldo Canal

How long do you suppose it would take you to drive 11 miles? Maybe 15 minutes? Probably less if you had an interstate highway at your disposal. And we do it all the time; folks all over Florida are obliged to drive that far and much farther sometimes just to get to work, school, or the grocery store. These days, it’s not much of a hassle to drive 11 miles, but for residents of Melrose, Florida trying to ship oranges and lumber and other products in the late 1800s, traveling that distance to the nearest railroad was a real pain in the neck. Until they decided to do something about it, that is.

Portion of an official Florida highway map showing the area around Waldo and Melrose (1974).

Portion of an official Florida highway map showing the area around Waldo and Melrose (1974).

Even in the late nineteenth century, transportation in the center of the state was difficult. The railroad from Fernandina to Cedar Key was in operation, but getting freight goods to a shipping point on the railroad could be quite a challenge. Roads were sandy and impractical for this purpose. Water transportation, where it could be used, was much more efficient. The citizens of the town of Melrose at the south end of Lake Santa Fe badly needed access to the railroad, but the nearest depot was at Waldo, eleven miles away across punishing terrain.

A reproduction of an 1885 map showing the route of the Waldo Canal linking lakes Alto and Santa Fe. The line extending southeast from Waldo was the proposed route for the Florida Central Railroad between Waldo and Tampa.

A reproduction of an 1885 map showing the route of the Waldo Canal linking lakes Alto and Santa Fe. The line extending southeast from Waldo was the proposed route for the Florida Central Railroad between Waldo and Tampa.

No river ran directly between Melrose and Waldo, but lakes Santa Fe and Alto very nearly made the connection. The lakes were separated by a narrow strip of land that many believed could be crossed by a canal, linking the two bodies of water together and creating a faster, safer water route for transporting trade goods. The Santa Fe Canal Company was chartered in 1877 to begin work on the canal, and construction was completed in 1881. When it was first opened, the passage was about 30 feet wide and about five feet deep. Boats could now gather freight from the communities along the southern end of Lake Santa Fe and get them all the way to the north end of Lake Alto, where they were loaded onto a spur line and carried to Waldo and transferred to the Fernandina-Cedar Key Railroad. A short canal from Lake Alto toward Waldo was also dug, although it never reached all the way into town.

Workers digging the Waldo Canal with the aid of a dredge built especially for the project (1883).

Workers digging the Waldo Canal with the aid of a dredge built especially for the project (1883).

For all its usefulness, the Waldo Canal suffered from a serious case of bad luck. The steamer F.S. Lewis, which had been built in Waldo especially for use in the local lakes connected by the new canal, was a bundle of problems. Its drive shaft broke on one of its first voyages, disabling its paddlewheel and stranding its passengers. Its large size pushed its hull too deep into the water for it to make deliveries or pick up goods at smaller stops like Earleton. On one occasion, the steamboat capsized during a storm. The boat was righted again, only to catch fire and sink while tied up at Shooter’s Landing on Lake Santa Fe.

The F.S. Lewis, a steamer used to transport goods and passengers across lakes Alto and Santa Fe (circa 1880s).

The F.S. Lewis, a steamer used to transport goods and passengers across lakes Alto and Santa Fe (circa 1880s).

The F.S. Lewis was replaced by the Alert, a tugboat purchased in Jacksonville and transported to Alachua County by flatcar. The Alert was smaller, more fit for service than luxury, but it was sufficient to resume the transportation of freight and passengers across the lakes and through the canal. That is, when the canal was not filling up with sand. With a depth of only a few feet, the canal was frequently blocked by soil washing in from the sides, and workers would have to dig it out before traffic could resume. Water hyacinths also took their toll over the years.

The Alert, a smaller vessel used after the F.S. Lewis was destroyed (circa 1880s).

The Alert, a smaller vessel used after the F.S. Lewis was destroyed (circa 1880s).

The death of the Waldo Canal as a commercial enterprise came partly as an act of Nature and partly as a result of man-made technology. In the 1890s, a series of severe freezes devastated the citrus industry in the area near Melrose, driving citrus growers southward and depriving the canal of some of its biggest shipping customers. Not long afterward, the arrival of the automobile led to the construction of new roads to replace the old sandy trails that had been so tough to navigate in earlier years. The canal itself remained open to small craft, but the era of inland steamboat transportation was coming to an end in Florida.

A more modern view of Lake Santa Fe from the western shore (2007).

A more modern view of Lake Santa Fe from the western shore (2007).

Did you know the Florida Photographic Collection has over 1,300 images of steamboats in Florida? Find a steamboat that once operated in your favorite part of Florida and share our photo of it on Facebook!

A Prickly Tale: The History of Pineapples in Florida

Cube it, slice it, shred it, juice it, grill it, cook it. Pineapples are a delicious treat or compliment to any dish. Today, many people think of Hawaii as the pineapple capital of the United States, but did you know pineapples were cultivated in Florida before Hawaii was even a U.S. territory?

Florida pines

Florida pineapples

The earliest pineapple cultivation in Florida started in Key West in the 1860s. Benjamin Baker, known as “King of Wreckers” for his engagement in the business of salvaging ships, grew pineapples on Plantation Key, typically shipping them by schooner to New York, Baltimore and Philadelphia. Around the same time, a Mr. Brantley was producing pineapples on Merritt Island.

Pineapples being transported on a sailboat.

Pineapples being transported on a sailboat (Between 1890 and 1910)

By 1899, the industry had expanded rapidly, thanks in part to the southward extension of the Florida East Coast Railway. Pineapple plantations could be found across Florida, including in Lee, Volusia and Orange counties. Despite freeze issues, there were an estimated 1,325 acres of pineapple plantations in Florida, producing 95,442 crates of fruit.

Pineapple field in Winter Haven (Between 1880 and 1900)

Pineapple field in Winter Haven (Between 1880 and 1900)

 

Pineapples in transport - Volusia County, Florida (191-)

Pineapples in transport – Volusia County, Florida (191-)

Though the industry seemed to be on the rise, troubles began around 1908. Although Florida growers produced over 1.1 million crates of pineapples that year, Cuba produced 1.2 million crates and flooded the market. Cuba could also ship pineapples at a cheaper rate than Florida.  And there was more…

In 1910, portions of crops along Indian River plantations began to show signs of failing. A “red wilt” was rotting the roots of the pineapple plants, causing them to die. The disease quickly spread to entire fields. Add to that a lack of proper fertilizer due to World War I in Europe and freezes in 1917 and 1918, and the industry seemed to have disappeared.

R.A. Carlton, an agricultural agent for the Seaboard Air Line railway attempted to revive pineapple production in Florida in the 1930s, but the industry was never able to fully recover.

 

George S. Morikami and Al Avery holding prize pineapples

George S. Morikami and Al Avery holding prize pineapples (1966)

What is your favorite way to enjoy a delicious pineapple? Tell us about it by leaving a comment!

Mmmmm… Swamp Cabbage!

You may be aware that the noble sabal palmetto is Florida’s state tree, but did you know you can eat it? And we’re not just talking about a survival tactic. From Wakulla and Apalachicola in the north to LaBelle and Immokalee in the south, Floridians all over the state have made a tradition out of preparing the hearts of these trees as a tasty dish called swamp cabbage.

Sabal (or cabbage) palms located in Levy County, Florida. Note that swamp cabbage is typically harvested from the trees when they are much younger, before they develop their rough gray trunks (photo 2010).

Sabal (or cabbage) palms located in Levy County, Florida. Note that swamp cabbage is typically harvested from the trees when they are much younger, before they develop their rough gray trunks (photo 2010).

Everglades guide George L. Espenlaub prepares a pot of swamp cabbage (photo circa 1950s).

Everglades guide George L. Espenlaub prepares a pot of swamp cabbage (photo circa 1950s).

The tradition of eating hearts of Florida palm trees likely predates the arrival of Europeans in North America. Captain Hugh Young, Andrew Jackson’s topographical engineer, sketched out a few remarks on the subject in his notes regarding the territory between the Aucilla and Suwannee rivers in 1818. He wrote:

“In the cypress swamps between Assilla and Sahwanne there is abundance of cabbage palmetto. [...] It rises with a single stem to the height of forty feet and supports at the top a large mass resembling an immense pineapple, from which project a number of three-sided stems three or four feet long with leaves like the low palmetto but much larger and without prickles. The vegetable substance from which the stems and leaves are supported has in its center a white brittle mucilaginous mass composed of the centre folds of the leaves forming it, which may be eaten raw and when boiled has a taste somewhat like parsnips. In times of scarcity the Indians live on it, and it is said to be wholesome and nutritious.”

We at Florida Memory are still somewhat concerned about Captain Young’s use of the word mucilaginous to describe something edible, but overall his description is fairly accurate, and those of us who have had swamp cabbage  agree it is tasty.

Painting of territorial governor Andrew Jackson (circa 1821).

Painting of territorial governor Andrew Jackson (circa 1821).

As incoming settlers learned about swamp cabbage and began experimenting with it, it became a favorite side dish, especially in sparsely populated areas where the sabal (or cabbage) palmetto was more prevalent. In modern times, swamp cabbage can still be found on the menus of restaurants serving traditional Southern cooking. It is typically prepared by slicing up the heart of a section of palmetto trunk, called a “boot,” and then stewing it with spices and salt pork or some other seasoning meat. The finished product is grayish-green in color, and pairs well with fried fish, pork, or other traditional Florida entrees. Swamp cabbage can also be enjoyed raw, and often appears in salads by the more refined name of “heart of palm.”

Many Florida communities consider swamp cabbage something worth celebrating. Each year at the Florida Forest Festival in Perry, locals celebrate their forestry heritage with a parade, fireworks, live music, and the world’s largest free fish fry. Often, the menu has included swamp cabbage. Down south in Hendry County, residents of LaBelle hold a festival each year devoted to nothing but swamp cabbage, even choosing a Swamp Cabbage Queen to reign over the festivities. In Cedar Key, heart of palm salad served with fresh fruit and a scoop of pistachio ice cream is a favorite traditional restaurant menu item.

Miss Sherri Lynn Woosley, 1971 Swamp Cabbage Queen for the LaBelle Swamp Cabbage Festival. Photo from the festival's program for that year, which is part of the Florida Collection at the State Library.

Miss Sherri Lynn Woosley, 1971 Swamp Cabbage Queen for the LaBelle Swamp Cabbage Festival. Photo from the festival’s program for that year, which is part of the Florida Collection at the State Library.

A heart of palm salad as prepared by the Seabreeze Restaurant in Cedar Key. The tartness of the heart of palm is complemented by the sweetness of fresh fruit and the pistachio ice cream in the middle. Photo courtesy of Jamie Griffin (2014).

A heart of palm salad as prepared by the Seabreeze Restaurant in Cedar Key. The tartness of the heart of palm is complemented by the sweetness of fresh fruit and the pistachio ice cream in the middle. Photo courtesy of Jamie Griffin (2014).

Tasty as swamp cabbage may be, the cooking and eating of it is the easy part. Cutting through layers of tough palmetto fibers to get to the edible “boot” without damaging the tender flesh inside is much more difficult. The following images from the Florida Photographic Collection illustrate the method used to harvest swamp cabbage.

Here, we see Ralph O'Brien of Tampa chopping away the

Here, we see Ralph O’Brien of Tampa chopping away the “straps,” which are actually the bases of the fronds or leaves of the tree. This must be done at an angle so that the axe does not become lodged in the inner “boot,” which can spoil the tender flesh inside (photo 1982).

Once the straps have been cleared away from the

Once the straps have been cleared away from the “boot,” the weight of the remaining attached fronds will cause it to break away from the tree. Here we see Ralph O’Brien chopping off the remaining fronds to make the boot easier to carry (photo 1982).

 

The outer layers of the

The outer layers of the “boot” are tough, bitter, and inedible. Here, we see Ralph O’Brien carefully splitting successive concentric layers of the boot to get down to the edible flesh at the center (photo 1982).

Once enough layers have been removed from the

Once enough layers have been removed from the “boot,” the remaining outer layers may be removed with a sharp knife. Here we see a Lafayette County woman working her way down to the edible flesh of the boot, which she then will slice into a bowl of cool water. The water temporarily prevents the swamp cabbage from turning brown (photo 1983).

Are you ready to try this Florida delicacy? Whether it’s eaten raw on a salad or boiled down with a generous helping of seasoning meat and black pepper, Florida’s state tree is both beautiful and a tasty treat with a long and storied past.

What are your favorite traditional Florida dishes? Tell us by leaving a comment, and don’t forget to share our post on Facebook!

 

Camp Roosevelt

Every old house, every river, and every bend in the road in Florida has a story. Some are easy to learn about, others not so much. Understanding the history of a place becomes even more complicated when the place itself changes rapidly over a short period of time. The history of Camp Roosevelt south of Ocala is a case in point. In the space of a single decade, it served as an educational center for at least three separate federal programs, headquarters for workers building the Cross-Florida Barge Canal, and emergency housing for returning World War II veterans and their families.

Map showing the location of Camp Roosevelt just south of Ocala near the convergence of Lake Weir Rd. with U.S. 27/301/441.

Map showing the location of Camp Roosevelt just south of Ocala near the convergence of Lake Weir Rd. with U.S. 27/301/441. The map dates to the 1990s, but the Roosevelt name remains.

The camp originated as a temporary home for the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers and the large labor force it needed to build the Cross-Florida Barge Canal. This project had been a long time in the making. Even as far back as the 16th century when the Spanish had control of Florida, shippers and government officials had wished there was some way to shorten the lengthy and dangerous voyage necessary to sail around the Florida Straits. A number of ideas emerged for digging the canal, but the enormous expense of the project led private and public authorities to shy away from it.

Ironically, the arrival of the Great Depression gave the plan a boost off the drawing board and into action. Local politicians urged the federal government to take on the canal project as a federal relief program through the New Deal.  The Franklin Roosevelt administration allocated funding for the project in September 1935 on this basis, and by the end of the month construction was underway to prepare for workers to arrive. The plans called for what amounted to a small city, complete with medical and recreational facilities, a dining hall, a post office, and headquarters buildings. The Army Corps of Engineers designated the site as “Camp Roosevelt” in honor of the President.

Men's dormitory at Camp Roosevelt, built in 1935 to accommodate workers for the Cross-Florida Barge Canal (photo circa 1936).

Men’s dormitory at Camp Roosevelt, built in 1935 to accommodate workers for the Cross-Florida Barge Canal (photo circa 1936).

The camp’s population quickly swelled with workers, but their stay was to be much shorter than planners had expected. Vocal opponents of the project in Central and South Florida argued that digging the deep canal would expose and contaminate the underground aquifer that contained their water supply. Sensing trouble, the Roosevelt administration quietly backed off of the project. Works Progress Administrator Harold Ickes dropped his support, and Congress failed to extend the original 1935 appropriation. In the summer of 1936, with only preliminary work complete in several locations along the proposed route, work came to a halt.

An early view of construction on the Cross-Florida Barge Canal, probably around Dunnellon (1936).

An early view of construction on the Cross-Florida Barge Canal, probably around Dunnellon (1936).

With no money to continue, the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers prepared to close its operations at Camp Roosevelt. With these extensive facilities vacant, the Works Progress Administration sensed an opportunity to take over the site and use it for a good cause. The W.P.A., the University of Florida in Gainesville, and the Army Corps of Engineers reached an agreement whereby the University would operate Camp Roosevelt as a center for adult education. The University would be in charge of the program itself, whereas the W.P.A. would handle the business end of the camp. The Army Corps of Engineers would pay most of the utility bills. Less than three months from the end of the work on the barge canal, the University of Florida’s adult education extension program was up and running at the camp. Major Bert Clair Riley, the university’s dean of extension services, administered the program from Gainesville, while a series of local directors handled the day-to-day business on the ground.

A student feeds a piece of wood through a router as his instructors look on (photo circa 1936).

A student feeds a piece of wood through a router as his instructors look on (photo circa 1936).

At first, the extension program mainly offered short courses in subjects like model design, leathercraft, art appreciation and design, and training for W.P.A. administrators. Program leaders made bold plans to expand their reach to include short courses for civic officials, printers, real estate brokers, toymakers, and aviators. The University also offered more formal courses in subjects like English and History to aid those students who wished to continue their education at the university level.

A list of classes held during one of the first terms conducted by the University of Florida extension program at Camp Roosevelt, fall 1936. This document is part of the records of Camp Roosevelt held by the State Archives of Florida (Series M87-9).

A list of classes held during one of the first terms conducted by the University of Florida extension program at Camp Roosevelt, fall 1936. This document is part of the records of Camp Roosevelt held by the State Archives of Florida (Series M87-9).

Funding for the extension program, as with the canal and so many federal projects at this time, was temporary, and within a year the University of Florida had to decide whether it would continue the work. It did, in a way, but through a new partnership that changed the focus of the camp to more of a relief operation. The National Youth Administration, dreamed up by Eleanor Roosevelt as a way to offer federal relief to young women who could not join the Civilian Conservation Corps, teamed up with the vocational division of the Marion County school system and began running the camp. The camp’s population consisted mainly of women, although men would later be admitted to the camp as well. Participants took classes for half the day, and worked on projects such as sewing, metalwork, or cosmetology for the remainder of the day. Typically, the students had had no more than a year or two of high school before entering Camp Roosevelt. By the time they completed the term, program administrators hoped to place them in their communities as secretaries, stenographers, library assistants, or other skilled workers.

Leatherworking class at Camp Roosevelt (circa 1936).

Leatherworking class at Camp Roosevelt (circa 1936).

As World War II approached, the camp’s classes and activities became geared more toward defense work. Teenage boys too young to enter the military were admitted to the camp, and nursing, welding, woodwork, and signmaking replaced the more domestic skills that had been prevalent in earlier years.

Students practice bandaging in first aid class at Camp Roosevelt (April 4, 1941).

Students practice bandaging in first aid class at Camp Roosevelt (April 4, 1941).

Student flight mechanics at Camp Roosevelt (circa 1940).

Student flight mechanics at Camp Roosevelt (circa 1940).

Whether they came for the federal relief wages or to do defense work, Camp Roosevelt’s residents were living in a difficult time. This did not, however, stop them from making the best of their situation and maintaining a healthy social atmosphere. The camp had a newsletter, the “Roosevelt Roundup,” edited by the faculty and students. It had dances and athletic activities, and recreation leadership training was even offered as a course.

Students put on a show at Camp Roosevelt (1941).

Students put on a show at Camp Roosevelt (1941).

Dance at Camp Roosevelt (1941).

Dance held at Camp Roosevelt (1941).

As the war continued, more and more of Camp Roosevelt’s usual pool of residents became involved in formal defense work, and administrators decided to shut the camp down. The U.S. Army Corps of Engineers retained the site and planned to keep it up, as plenty of enthusiasm still remained for resuming the Cross-Florida Barge Canal project. Before that could happen, however, a more pressing problem emerged for the camp to tackle.

As World War II came to a close, the young men and women who had left to join the military or serve in other defense capacities came home, looking to start new lives as adult civilians. This sudden surge triggered a dire shortage of adequate housing. Husbands and wives and sometimes children frequently found themselves living with other family members, not so much for lack of funds but simply for lack of available homes to buy or rent. Civic leaders scrambled for solutions, and in Marion County facilities like the small houses at Camp Roosevelt became an attractive option. The Ocala/Marion County Chamber of Commerce appealed to federal leaders, asking that the buildings at Camp Roosevelt be made available to provide housing for returning veterans. Washington complied, and soon former soldiers and their young families were moving into the buildings once occupied by canal workers and then residents of the W.P.A. and N.Y.A. relief programs. The federal government retained the right to move the new residents should the barge canal project regenerate, but by the time this happened some years later, the Army Corps of Engineers had determined it would not need the complex. It was declared surplus property, and eventually was sold piecemeal to private citizens.

One of over seventy residences at Camp Roosevelt built originally to house workers for the Cross-Florida Barge Canal project. Many of these homes were later sold to private citizens and became part of the Roosevelt Village neighborhood (photo circa 1936).

One of over seventy residences at Camp Roosevelt built originally to house workers for the Cross-Florida Barge Canal project. Many of these homes were later sold to private citizens and became part of the Roosevelt Village neighborhood (photo circa 1936).

Looking at this neighborhood, now called Roosevelt Village, its former roles during the Great Depression and World War II are not readily apparent. It just goes to show that no matter which direction you look in Florida, there’s a story to be told.

What buildings or other spaces in your Florida town played a role in the Great Depression or World War II? Share with us by leaving a comment below. And don’t forget that Florida Memory has a large number of photos from World War II-era Florida. Search the Florida Photographic Collection to find these historic images.

 

 

The Cathedral Basilica of St. Augustine

Every Sunday, worshipers belonging to the oldest Catholic parish in the United States file into the St. Augustine Cathedral Basilica, where mass has been celebrated in some form or fashion for nearly 450 years. As timeless as this sturdy building may appear to the visitor, however, its history bears witness to many instances of warfare, disaster, and change that have shaped the city of St. Augustine.

This is an engraved, hand-colored map drawn by Baptista Boazio in 1589, depicts a raid on St. Augustine by the English navigator Sir Francis Drake. Boazio lived in London from about 1585 to 1603, illustrating accounts of English expeditions and campaigns.

This engraved, hand-colored map drawn by Baptista Boazio in 1589 depicts a raid on St. Augustine by the English navigator Sir Francis Drake. Boazio lived in London from about 1585 to 1603, illustrating accounts of English expeditions and campaigns.

In this zoomed portion of the Boazio map, notice the location of the parish church, marked "O" in the original and indicated with a green arrow.

In this zoomed portion of the Boazio map, notice the location of the parish church, marked “O” in the original and indicated with a green arrow.

St. Augustine was established in 1565 by Don Pedro Menendez de Aviles. He had carried with his expedition four priests who immediately began preparing to minister to the Spaniards who would settle in the new outpost. The map above shows the location of the first parish church at the southeast corner of the old plaza.

Depiction of the first mass celebrated in St. Augustine on September 8, 1565. This painting, dated 1919, is an exact copy of the version that hung on the wall of the St. Augustine Cathedral for many years before the building burned in 1887.

Depiction of the first mass celebrated in St. Augustine on September 8, 1565. This painting, dated 1919, is an exact copy of the version that hung on the wall of the St. Augustine Cathedral for many years before the building burned in 1887.

In addition to serving as the principal port and administrative center of Spanish Florida, St. Augustine was also the headquarters of the Catholic Church’s effort to minister to the Native Americans living in the surrounding area. Two lines of Franciscan missions extended outward from the town, one heading west as far as Tallahassee, and another stretching into present-day South Georgia as far as St. Catherine’s Island.

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Virgil Hawkins and the Fight to Integrate the University of Florida Law School

On May 13, 1949, a forty-three year old man from Lake County named Virgil Darnell Hawkins received a letter from the University of Florida Law School rejecting his application because he was African-American.  Hawkins refused to accept the prejudiced decision without a fight, and promptly filed a lawsuit against the Florida Board of Control in 1950. His legal battle would carry on for nine years, laying the foundation for integrating graduate and professional schools in Florida.

Portrait of Virgil Darnell Hawkins (circa 1960s).

Portrait of Virgil Darnell Hawkins (circa 1960s).

Despite the larger civil rights victory, Hawkins emerged from the ordeal partially defeated as he never gained admission to the institution he considered “one of the finest law schools in the country.” The case of Virgil Hawkins v. Board of Control brought Florida into the national school desegregation conversation, serving as an antecedent to the Brown v. Board of Education ruling. Furthermore, Hawkins’ ordeal underscores the tenacity with which segregation advocates fought the drive for an integrated university system, some even going so far as to suggest that such a change would incite “public mischief.”

College of Law buildings at the University of Florida (circa 1950s).

College of Law buildings at the University of Florida (circa 1950s).

Before Virgil Hawkins took his stand, there was no law school for African-Americans in Florida. Rather than fund a separate institution in Florida or permit African-Americans to attend an existing school with whites, the state instituted a law in 1945 to provide scholarships for select African-American students to study at segregated law schools outside the state. When Virgil Hawkins refused to accept that alternative, the Board of Control approved plans to open a segregated law school at Florida A&M College. By 1950, the U.S. Supreme Court had ruled on two related cases, Sweatt v. Painter and McLaurin v. Oklahoma, professing the inherent inequality of segregated graduate institutions. Despite these rulings, the Florida court still refused to admit Hawkins, and would continue to refuse even after the so-called Brown II decree issued by the Supreme Court in 1955 to clarify the original Brown decision. Hawkins persisted in his fight against the state’s segregationist position, but more challenges were on the way. In 1958, the Board of Control established a new minimum score on the law school entry exam for incoming students, setting the admission threshold fifty points above Hawkins’ 1956 score. As a result, Hawkins was officially denied not because of his race, but rather because he was disqualified by the new rules regarding test scores.  Later that summer, federal district judge Dozier DeVane mandated that all qualified applicants be admitted to graduate and professional schools in Florida regardless of race.

Judge Dozier DeVane, who ruled that qualified applicants had to be admitted to law and graduate programs regardless of race, stands at right in this photo, along with Harrold G. Carswell (center) and an unknown man at left (1953).

Judge Dozier DeVane, who ruled that qualified applicants had to be admitted to law and graduate programs regardless of race, stands at right in this photo, along with Harrold G. Carswell (center) and an unknown man at left (1953).

Nine years after the initial integration suit, African-American veteran George H. Starke, not Virgil Hawkins, enrolled at the University of Florida Law School in September 1958 without incident. As for Virgil Hawkins, he eventually received his law degree in New England, and was admitted to the Florida Bar in 1977. He resigned in 1985 following complaints about his practice.

Virgil D. Hawkins speaks with supporters while on recess during his disciplinary case before the Florida Supreme Court (1983).

Virgil D. Hawkins speaks with supporters while on recess during his disciplinary case before the Florida Supreme Court (1983).

Virgil Hawkins’ case is an excellent example of how the Civil Rights Movement played out in the courtrooms of Florida as much as it did at lunch counters, public beaches, and city buses. The legal battles fought by Hawkins and others laid the groundwork for an integrated education system for all of Florida.

Florida proudly joins the rest of the United States in celebrating the 50th anniversary of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and the 60th anniversary of the landmark Supreme Court decision in the case of Brown vs. Board of Education of Topeka, Kansas. For more information about events commemorating the Civil Rights Movement, see our Events Calendar.

 

Florida’s Junior Scrap Army During World War II

During World War II, the enormous demand for steel, aluminum, and other metals led the War Production Board to launch a nationwide campaign to salvage scrap. Everyone from state and local Defense Councils to the Boy Scouts combed local communities for sources of scrap metal that could be melted down and re-purposed for ships, guns, vehicles, and other war materiel.

Part of a poster encouraging housewives to save tin cans for scrap metal. From the papers of the State Defense Council, circa 1940s.

Part of a poster encouraging housewives to save tin cans for scrap metal. From the papers of the State Defense Council, circa 1940s.

As part of this national effort, Florida’s State Defense Council and Department of Education teamed up to develop the Junior Scrap Army program in 1942. State School Superintendent Colin English challenged every pupil in the Sunshine State to collect as much scrap metal as possible and turn it in at their local schools, where it would be weighed. The program was competitive; the schools and individuals collecting the most scrap would be entitled to a prize.

Results from a scrap metal and rubber drive in Pensacola (circa 1942).

Results from a scrap metal and rubber drive in Pensacola (circa 1942).

The enthusiasm exhibited by Florida’s school children in this competition was incredible. One student reportedly was out until nearly midnight on the very last night before the contest deadline with her grandfather’s truck, collecting as much metal as possible to add to her total. In Perry, pupils from a physical education class dug up ice manufacturing equipment that had been discarded and buried nearly twenty years earlier. At least four students collected over a thousand pounds of scrap each, and Polk County reported collecting 375 pounds of old keys alone for re-purposing. The heat of the competition reached even into the highest levels of state government, as Governor Spessard Holland accepted a challenge from California Governor Culbert L. Olson to see which state could collect the most metal on a per capita basis.

Individual top scrappers and representatives from the top scrapping schools visit with former governor Fred P. Cone in Lake City. L to R: Albert W. Thompson, Betty Lou Smith, Gov. Fred P. Cone, Gwendolyn Willcocks, Joseph Thibodeaux, and Allen Shelton, with Dale Maxwell in front (December 1942).

Individual top scrappers and representatives from the top scrapping schools visit with former governor Fred P. Cone in Lake City. L to R: Albert W. Thompson, Betty Lou Smith, Gov. Fred P. Cone, Gwendolyn Willcocks, Joseph Thibodeaux, and Allen Shelton, with Dale Maxwell in front (December 1942).

When the dust settled after a month of scrapping, Green Acres and Loxahatchee schools of Palm Beach County and Cape Florida School of Dade County emerged as the top collecting schools. Each won the right to send a delegate to participate in the dedication and launching of the Liberty Ship Colin P. Kelly, Jr., named after  the Madison County, Florida airman who was among the first to perish in combat after the attack on Pearl Harbor in 1941. The top three individual collectors also earned the right to attend and represent the state. Gwendolyn Willcocks, 15, from Palm Beach High School, personally collected 101,116 pounds of scrap metal. Joining her was Betty Lou Smith, 10, of Coral Gables Elementary School, who collected 156,160 pounds, and Dale Maxwell, 9, of Pahokee, who collected a whopping 202,650 pounds of scrap metal for the drive.

Florida's top scrappers viewing the gold star for fallen hero Colin Kelly, Jr. at his family's church in Madison. L to R: Gwendolyn Willcocks, Betty Lou Smith, Joseph Thibodeaux, Albert W. Thompson, Allen Shelton, and Dale Maxwell (December 1942).

Florida’s top scrappers viewing the gold star for fallen hero Colin Kelly, Jr. at his family’s church in Madison. L to R: Gwendolyn Willcocks, Betty Lou Smith, Joseph Thibodeaux, Albert W. Thompson, Allen Shelton, and Dale Maxwell (December 1942).

The six met in Jacksonville for a tour that included stops in Lake City, Madison, and Tallahassee before moving on to Mobile for the dedication and launch of the U.S. Liberty Ship Colin P. Kelly, Jr. Gwendolyn Willcocks broke the traditional bottle of champagne against the hull while Mary Lou Smith used a hatchet to cut the ship loose and allow it to enter the water for service. Dale Maxwell, whose enormous contribution to the drive made him both the state and national scrap collecting champion, said a few words to the crowd. In describing his triumph, he said, “I didn’t set out to be top collector. I wanted to do my part for the war effort. And I haven’t stopped by any means. I shall continue to collect scrap as long as this war lasts.”

As part of their trip, Florida's top scrappers were treated to a stay at the Governor's Mansion, where they were the guests of Governor and Mrs. Spessard Holland. Here they are pictured gathered around the Governor's desk. L to R: Betty Lou Smith, Albert W. Thompson, Allen Shelton, Joseph Thibodeaux, and Dale Maxwell, with Gwendolyn Willcocks seated (December 1942).

As part of their trip, Florida’s top scrappers were treated to a stay at the Governor’s Mansion, where they were the guests of Governor and Mrs. Spessard Holland. Here they are pictured gathered around the Governor’s desk. L to R: Betty Lou Smith, Albert W. Thompson, Allen Shelton, Joseph Thibodeaux, and Dale Maxwell, with Gwendolyn Willcocks seated (December 1942).

Florida's First Lady, Mary Holland, playing Chinese checkers with her house guests at the Governor's Mansion in Tasllahassee (December 1942). Seated around the table are Gwendolyn Willcocks, Allen Shelton, Mrs. Holland, and Albert W. Thompson (?).

Florida’s First Lady, Mary Holland, playing Chinese checkers with her house guests at the Governor’s Mansion in Tallahassee (December 1942). Seated around the table are Gwendolyn Willcocks, Allen Shelton, Mrs. Holland, and Albert W. Thompson (?).

Allen Shelton is the center of attention during a visit of Florida's top scrappers to the Florida State College for Women (December 1942).

Allen Shelton is the center of attention during a visit of Florida’s top scrappers to the Florida State College for Women (December 1942).

The family of Colin Kelly, Jr. standing in front of the ship to be dedicated to his memory in Mobile, Alabama. From L to R: Emy Kelly (Colin, Jr.'s sister), Mrs. and Mr. Colin Kelly, Sr. (December 1942).

The family of Colin Kelly, Jr. standing in front of the ship to be dedicated to his memory in Mobile, Alabama. From L to R: Emy Kelly (Colin, Jr.’s sister), Mrs. and Mr. Colin Kelly, Sr. (December 1942).

Dale Maxwell, the youngest member of Florida's top scrapper delegation, gives a speech at the launch of the U.S. Liberty Ship Colin P. Kelly, Jr. in Mobile, Alabama (December 1942).

Dale Maxwell, the youngest member of Florida’s top scrapper delegation, gives a speech at the launch of the U.S. Liberty Ship Colin P. Kelly, Jr. in Mobile, Alabama (December 1942).

Gwendolyn Willcocks holding flowers and a bottle of champagne to break against the hull of the U.S. Liberty Ship Colin P. Kelly during its dedication ceremony at Mobile, Alabama (December 1942).

Gwendolyn Willcocks holding flowers and a bottle of champagne to break against the hull of the U.S. Liberty Ship Colin P. Kelly during its dedication ceremony at Mobile, Alabama (December 1942).

This is just one of the many stories of courageous homefront contributions by Floridians during World War II. Search the Florida Photographic Collection for more images relating to the war effort in Florida, and check out our learning unit on the subject.

Most of the photos in this post are from the subject files of the State Defense Council of Florida, an agency charged with preparing Florida and Floridians for the challenges of World War II. The collection (Series 419) is available to researchers at the State Archives in Tallahassee.

 

 

 

Greetings from Florida!

Happy National Tourism Day! Whether you just want to lay out on the beach, see Mickey and Minnie, or take a walk through the past, Florida is the perfect vacation destination.

When you’re here, make sure to tell your loved ones how much fun you’re having, and show off a little by sending a postcard! We’ve chosen some of our favorites from the Postcard Collection! Do you have a favorite?

Florida - the sunshine state

Florida – the Sunshine State

 

When the Yankees come to Florida

When the Yankees come to Florida

 

Bathing beauties on the beach in Florida

Bathing beauties on the beach in Florida

 

Greetings from Florida

The Box of Oranges I Promised you from the Sunshine State, Florida

 

 

Enjoying "The Pause that Refreshes" underwater at Silver Springs.

Enjoying “The Pause that Refreshes” underwater at Silver Springs

 

Tropical beauty in McKee Jungle Gardens

Tropical beauty in McKee Jungle Gardens

 

Where humans are caged and monkeys run wild

Where humans are caged and monkeys run wild