Skates
I’ll tell you what, if you would like to do this—I just live up the street, we could go to my house. I’ve got my printer there. Do you want pictures?
Smith
Yeah. we can get those. That’s something that we don’t even have to get today, that’s something we can get whenever you’d like.
Skates
What I can do is I can copy pictures of the first and second [Holy Cross Episcopal] church and, of course, the picture of the now church for the now thing, which is interesting. The way those buildings evolved tells a lot about the financial business of Sanford too, because during the very lean years nothing was done. But each time the church was destroyed it was replaced within a couple of years. And when you consider that for 19—the first church was built in 1873, and it was destroyed in 1880 and rebuilt. I think 1882 it was consecrated again. So that would be just a couple of years. And there was no money, they couldn’t even afford to hire a priest. If I go too fast, stop me.
Smith
No. No problem. That’s the good thing about this.
Skates
So that was—I’m trying to think. So the rebuilt church from the storm, rebuilt in 1880, in 1923 it burned to the ground—everything that was in it. We saved a few—they saved a few things, and we have records of those things still now in the building.
Smith
Do they know what ‘Caused the fire?
Skates
The fact—they think it was started—I’m trying to be succinct here. In the 1920—late 1800s till the 1920s—they used those buildings for a community center for the whole city of Sanford, because it was the only institution that could do that. There was no YMCA [Young Men’s Christian Association] or that sort of thing. And it was for the young men of Sanford. They came there in those years—let’s see 1918—it would have been the 1900s to 1920. I didn’t say that right, but anyway—they had a—what did they call it? They had a moving picture machine, and they had a bowling alley. They had a library they were going to build on just before the fire. They were getting ready to build a basketball gym. I’m trying to use the words they used but I can’t remember them all, but that never happened. So when the churched burned in 1923, it was a disaster for the whole city because of the way everybody used that facility. They had a moving picture theater, but they also had a[sic] galas and theatrical plays and things like that. They must have been really a hubbub for the city it was neat. So where do I want to go from here?
Smith
Really just—at that time in 1923, that church that had burned down, that wasn’t located at the present location?
Skates
Uh huh. That’s the property that General [Henry Shelton] Sanford gave—probably that whole block—but then he donated the Methodist church property to them. That’s on that same block. And then there were several private homes there, but—what was I going to tell you—how the church burned.
The church was facing Park Avenue like it is now. And right behind it—where our parish hall is now—was a rectory, a two-story building for the priest and his mother. And right behind that was a parish hall, and right beyond that, on Magnolia [Avenue], was a private home. So when the priest—and the description is in the newspaper—a great description. I have copies of that too if you really want to go into detail. The priest said he awoke in the morning and he saw a bright light, and he thought the sun was coming up. And when he looked again, he realized it wasn’t the sun. It was a fire. The church was on fire, or the outbuildings probably first. He got his mother out, tried to save some of his books, but he had a very extensive library in his home and lost most of it. He ran to the church and tried to save his vestments. I don’t know how successful he was at that. The fire department came, but when they put the hoses on the hydrant there was no water pressure.
Smith
Oh, wow.
Skates
So there was nothing they could do. All the buildings burned, including the house that was back there on Magnolia too. The man who lived in the house—Alicia [Clarke], I put your papers underneath—no. Alicia, underneath—right there. I tried to put them someplace where they wouldn’t…
Clarke
Thank you so much. [inaudible]
Skates
[laughs] Yeah. Sorry.
Where was I? Oh, um. So when they, um, couldn’t get any—also the man that owned the house got his water hose out—his garden —and he tried to wet his hose down, he had no water pressure.
So after the smoke cleared and all the finger pointing started, it was determined that it was the City [of Sanford]’s fault, because of the water pressure. The mayor of the city at that time was Forrest Lake, which you’ve heard that name before. After many meetings—and I guess different kinds of haggling with the insurance company and the City—they also had several attorneys in the congregation. That helps. But they had the insurance money, and I think they got something like $30,000 from the City to replace the building. So after all of that, by 1924, they had started work on the new building. And by 1925 they had—I don’t think it was consecrated, because I don’t think it was paid for. I’d have to look that up, but that’s the story of the fire. And of course, that just took out that whole Fourth Street side of Magnolia and Park Avenue—those blocks. Let’s see, what else…
Smith
And you said it got rebuilt in [19]24?
Skates
‘24. I think actually it was in ‘24—‘25.
Smith
I think it’s raining.
Skates
Yeah. It’s going to rain. It’s one thing you can be sure of.
Smith
And then did the church take on all those old roles as a community center and all those things again?
Skates
No. They didn’t, because they didn’t have room at the time. They built the building that’s there now, but they lost all that community that they had with the young men. We didn’t have a parish house until 1926. What’s there now was built in 1926. Of course, it was a matter of money, and keeping a priest too. Because with no money, that was difficult. Those were boom times though back when we got into the later ‘20s, as I recall. So they could finally call a priest and have one that was there. I list—I have a Holy Cross folder and I have a Historical Society folder, so I don’t have that one with me. That was an interesting time, so what’s there now, that takes care of that hunk of Sanford. I mean if you’re going to do one hunk, there you go you’ve got that.
Let me see, what else could we—where could we go with that?
Smith
When did the—there is Methodist church directly next door…
Skates
Next door to us. It’s First United Methodist Church [of Sanford].
Smith
And when was that building built?
Skates
It was in the ‘20s. I don’t remember the year exactly.
The First Baptist Church [of Sanford]—Grace Marie [Stinecipher] could tell you exactly when—when the brick building—that was another very old building, but not the—the brick building is the old church, Grace Marie?
Stinecipher
Yeah?
Skates
When was the Baptist—when was the brick building built?
Stinecipher
One time in 1914. The other time in 1920.
Skates
1914?
Stinecipher
Yes. It was built in two parts.
Skates
Oh, it was. I didn’t know that. This is Grace Marie Stinecipher. She’s the historian at First Baptist—I was going to say Holy Baptist [laughs]. This is Austin [Smith]. She’s another former teacher.
Go head tell him about the Baptists, because we’ve been talking about that block. Because that’s going to give him a block and he can deal with that whole block. Well, no. The two blocks. I’m sorry you’re not Methodist. You’re Baptist. We’ll have to find a Methodist.
Stinecipher
It was built under Reverend Harman who was here, and he went off—they built the front part, which was the Sunday school part.
Skates
Oh. Those two side parts?
Stinecipher
The front part of the building is a Sunday school and it has four Sunday school rooms in the back and it has three floors.
Skates
Oh. So that’s when the chapel—I mean the auditorium…
Stinecipher
And then in 1920 they added on the auditorium. He [Harman] went off to war—this is 1914. It may have been finished in ’15. We’re not really sure. And he went off to war as a chaplain, and then came back. And then they built the other part.
Skates
What did they do without a minister? Did they have somebody fill in?
Stinecipher
Yeah.
Skates
The next—was Reverend Brooks the next one that came?
Stinecipher
No.
Skates
He wasn’t for a while yet.
Stinecipher
He came in ‘29.
Skates
‘Cause they had one minister there that was there for 50 years.
Stinecipher
No, no, no. 33.
Skates
Excuse me. You see, I better stick to what I know. [laughs] Didn’t he live in that house by me for 50 years?
Stinecipher
Yes—no.
Skates
33?
Stinecipher
Yeah. I guess so.
Skates
I guess I’m giving out bum information. When was that house built? Do you know?
Stinecipher
It’s probably in my book, but Alicia can’t find it here.
Skates
Grace Marie wrote a book. A real book with covers on it.
Stinecipher
And I won’t do another one. They keep asking me.
Skates
Bring it up to date. That was—well, that house next door was built in 1923, because it was built a year before my house I think.
Stinecipher
The one—our building?
Skates
Your building. The rectory.
Stinecipher
I’m sure it’s in the book, but I can’t remember.
Skates Well, I wish I’d bought that book before they got away from us. You know anybody we could borrow one from?
Stinecipher
I’ve got some at home, but it keeps looking like she lost this one here.
Smith
What’s the title of your book?
Stinecipher
[A] History of First Baptist Church, Sanford Florida, 1884-1984.
Skates
Well, so it was—but you didn’t have a building in [18]84?
Stinecipher
One was built by the end of the—I think, by at least early 1885. A wooden building.
Skates
Was it? ‘Cause if Holy Cross was built in [18]73, we’re only 10 years older than you.
Stinecipher
You were organized in 1890?
Skates
That first church was built in 1873. Actually, the missionaries down here on Mellonville Avenue when Mellonville was the city of Mellonville was here. That’s another area that might be interesting to you.
Smith
If you can talk about it that would be great.
Skates
I can’t talk about it. I don’t know enough about Mellonville. [laughs] It was just a strip of buildings where the fort was, what is now called Fort Melon, but in those days it was called…
Stinecipher
Monroe. Camp Monroe.
Skates
Monroe. There you go. It was Camp Monroe. And you have to say it that way too, you can’t say “Monroe,” you have to say “Monroe.” [laughs] But we could find information on it that won’t be so bad.
Smith
But Holy Cross was, in addition to being set up by [General] Sanford—also those missionaries from Mellonville that came over.
Skates
Yes. The first priest there’s name was Holeman, and he was the “missionary at large” is what they called him. And he also came and started the church along with General Sanford—Henry Sanford. There was another guy too. I can’t think of his name right now. I’ll have to look at my notes at home. I would say the city of Mellonville was probably only about two blocks long—and Alicia could probably tell you more about that than I can.
Clarke
Yeah. We have a file on Mellonville. We have a lot about it. That’s a little before Bette’s time though. [laughs]
Skates
Yeah. A little before my time. That was back when the Indians were still…
Clarke
[laughs] If someone’s asking you about Mellonville, it’s time you’d died.
Skates
[laughs] It’s time I put the cane away and dyed my hair, huh? Oh, dear.
Um, so that was, um—but he was up and down. Those Episcopal—I’m sure the other church too, but I don’t know about those. But the missionaries were sent here from places like Connecticut and New York, and places like that. When they came here they didn’t know whether they were going to get shot by an Indian or eaten by an alligator, or killed by a mosquito bite, because it was a pretty wild place.
I read some of the diocesan records of the Episcopal priests and how they tried to get their little boats across Halifax River with sails on them. Of course, you can’t sail very well on a river. And what they went through—the thunderstorms would come and they’d get down and pull the sail over their heads and sleep in the boat all night. Tales that you read and you think, And they stayed? Why didn’t they all just say “goodbye!” But I guess God was stronger than the weather.
Skates
Alright. Let’s see what else—where do we want to go here? I’m trying to think if there’s anything else. But I do think that Holy Cross, and because of Henry Sanford, was instrumental in building the beginnings for Sanford. Henry Sanford also had his orange groves, and that’s what helped the area become agricultural; because of his orange groves. His first orange grove was down on the lakefront over here. He called that Street Gertrude [Grove].
Clarke
Once again, you’re getting off in territory where we can look that up.
Skates
Yeah. I’m getting out of my—when I get away from Holy Cross, I’m kind of lost. [laughs] But that was one of his first groves and then he had his big grove—and I guess the one that was really productive—was out at Belair [Grove], which was where Chase Groves [Condominium] housing development is now. That might be an interesting thing for you to—that’s not an old development, but the Chase family had finally died out and they sold all their property, or it’s in the process I guess of being sold. But where Henry Sanford actually put down his citrus grove—Henry Sanford didn’t spend a lot of time in Sanford. He spent a lot of time writing letters telling other people how to do things, but—what else?
Clarke
I’m just trying to figure out where Grace Marie’s book went.
Skates
Well, I wish you could find it, because I’d like it…
Clarke
I’d heard her mention it, and we can’t figure out where it went.
Smith
How would you say—the congregation, in those early days—what was the general make-up? Because obviously Sanford himself was Episcopal, but very early on you had a Catholic church in the area, and a Methodist Church in the area.
Skates
Yes. And Baptist.
Smith
It seems so soon off even in 18…
Skates
In the 1880s-90s.
Smith
There were already three or four churches in the area.
Skates
But remember, this is right after the Civil War. So a lot of these people that were coming south were looking to make their fortunes. And I hesitate to call them carpetbaggers, because that’s very unkind. But a lot of men—that’s when [Henry B.] Plant came. That’s when [Henry] Flagler came. So there were a lot of northerners coming down trying to make their fortune.
Clarke
May I ask a question? ‘Cause I know the early churches were in Fort Reed and Mellonville—so I know the congregation started there, but is Holy Cross the first Episcopal church?
Skates
The first Episcopal church.
Clarke
There wasn’t one in Fort Reed or Mellonville, was there?
Skates
No, but the missionaries were in Mellonville. Reverend Holeman and…
Clarke
So they just didn’t have a church. But before Henry Sanford arrived, there were people from the Episcopal church looking around?
Skates
Right. There were missionaries.
Clarke
And are any of those churches over around Enterprise or down Altamonte [Springs] earlier?
Skates
Near Enterprise—there’s an Episcopal church in Enterprise, and it’s an original. It would be worth the drive over there to see it.
Clarke
But were those earlier than over here, because I thought that this was the mother church.
Skates
You know, I don’t remember. It’s the mother church of Central Florida.
Clarke
But we don’t necessarily know if it’s the oldest Episcopal congregation.
Skates
Well, we don’t know. I don’t think there was one in Fort Reed.
Clarke
That’s why I was asking, because the Methodists and the Presbyterians were in Fort Reed. There’s older—there’s a much older—the congregations that are in the big churches on Park Avenue are older than Sanford. Because they started—like our Masonic Lodge started—in Mellonville, so it’s older than Sanford. But that’s why I’ve never thought to ask you. I’d never heard about Episcopalians meeting in a house or anything else anywhere.
Skates
I never heard that either, but they did meet in Mellonville.
Clarke
But as far as you know the Sanfords are the ones who started. But when you were looking through Lyman Phelps letters, was there already Episcopalians drifting around looking for a church before Mrs. [Gertrude Dupuy] Sanford started it? Or was she hoping people would become Episcopalians?
Skates
Yeah. Well, because so many of their friends from the North, and that’s where the money came from to build the church both times, Mrs. Sanford wrote to her friends in the North…
Clarke
I had never thought about that. When we were going through things—there would have already been some people that she met with and said, “Let’s build a church.” So we don’t know if there was a minister here, or a priest or—when did they come?
Skates
We know that Reverend Holeman was here…
Clarke
Did he come before the church?
Skates
Oh, yeah.
Clarke
I never thought to ask you that. Was there a congregation before there was a building?
Skates
But he was here, and so was the Bishop of Florida—made some trips with him. And I have some diocesan records of that, which I need to look this up, because I don’t know that.
Clarke
I just never thought about it that way. We know some of the congregations—the people—are older than the building we’re looking at, or the city. So depending on what you’re talking about Episcopalians.
Skates
Sanford never had anything to do with Holeman and the other guy—I can’t remember his name—coming here. I don’t think.
Clarke
I don’t know. That’s why I thought maybe you’d run across that in something. So you’ve never seen anything?
Skates
No.
Clarke
There was somebody in your congregation—somebody that was already here—and said to Mrs. Sanford, “We need a church.” Mrs. Sanford thought, We need a church.
SkatesThe reason Lyman Phelps came, which was a little bit later than this, was because Sanford asked him to come from Connecticut, but he also—the man also was a botanist and he was an Episcopal priest.
Clarke
So there might still be a little mystery as to how exactly they got started with the Episcopal congregation.
Skates
Yeah. Well, now you give us something else to think about.
Clarke
I know the church, but I never thought about that.
Skates
I never either.
Clarke
We spent all this time worrying about church number one, two, and three, but not whether or not there were already some Episcopalians or a priest here who needed a church. I always assumed they didn’t have a church, they didn’t have a congregation.
Skates
They met in Mellonville. I do have—I have seen that line some place. But then why Sanford—I think the Sanfords wanted the—and you tell me if I’m wrong—Henry and his wife were very aristocratic.
Clarke
A social thing. Yeah.
Skates
I mean, they were really very important people. After being—what was he given? I want to say a legation, but he’s not a legation. He was a…
Clarke
A diplomat.
Skates
Well, I don’t see that word as often.
Clarke
He was a Minister Resident. Which most people go, “What?”
Skates
But he was in Belgium for many years. And when he married, he was in his 40s. So when they came here, they were used to living in luxury in this little castle-looking house.
Clarke
And for some reason the church is an important thing that was supposed to be here.
Skates
And that also elevated your prestige too. I’m making this up.
Clarke
That’s what I’ve assumed from what you’ve found is that this was more than just “Oh, we’re church people.” It’s a social station. “We have to found a church.”
Skates
Yeah.
Clarke
Because Episcopalians would have been the…
Skates
The upper crust. Right. So that’s what I think—I think that’s what he was aiming at. Thinking that this was a big time, but it was not [laughs]. I mean, when you get here and you see the hardships and the way the people lived, he lived very differently. And I’m sure Mrs. Sanford probably didn’t spend 15 minutes in Sanford if she could get a steamboat out. Do you have the Mellonville history there?
Clarke
I was just curious…
Skates
No. Alright. Okay. Well, I’m rambling. How are you ever going to tie this together?
Smith
No, no.
Clarke
If there’s anything that you all talk about if you just need the founding of a church or something, something comes up, just make a note of it and we can pull the files.
Skates
Alright, because I’ll research some of this church business if you want to go further than this.
Smith
Sure. How would you say that the congregation has changed over the years—or even that the community as a whole—has changed over the years.
Skates
Well, I think that what we have at Holy Cross today is a middle-aged, and I think this is true of most large churches today—city churches especially. Because you’re not going to have as many young people. Though we do have young people, as many as they probably do out at Street Luke’s Lutheran Church out there by I[nterstate Highway]-4, near Heathrow, or some of those other churches. But it’s a stable church. We’re stable.
It’s a beautiful building if you—if aesthetics helps you worship, then it certainly is lovely and also the Episcopal service is very different from any other church in town. We have the Holy Eucharist every Sunday, a processional, and a beautiful choir and a fantastic organ. It’s very—people say, “Is it a high church?” No. It’s not. Not in Florida. It’s not a high church. It’s a very formal church, but comfortable. It’s—that’s just one person’s opinion.
Smith
How has—I guess the church itself changed over the years, or different things that it has had to go through over the years?
Clarke
You mean the building?
Smith
Whether the—well aside from having…
Skates
Fires and storms.
Smith
Endured fires and storms, just any particular stories about things within the church or—that would be interesting you think?
Skates
Well, right now, I’m working on a memorial for the soldiers from World War II. We have, we found a large plaque with parchment inside of it—it’s not a plaque. It’s a picture with a parchment inside. It’s beautifully illustrated. Where they got this I can’t imagine. Honoring—we had 70 members from Holy Cross that were in World War II. And we—by oral tradition, all the alter furniture that we have right now was donated as a memorial to the World War II veterans. But here’s the catch: we don’t have it in writing. We don’t know that. Nobody knows that for sure, and I’m working on that—running that one down. But I did have the plaque reframed and put acid-free paper in it and everything, so it will be better preserved, and so we’re going to hang that by the pulpit. But we have a lovely—our furniture is wooden. It’s really beautiful. it’s really beautiful furniture.
During the wartime, everything in Sanford was booming. We had the Navy base [Naval Air Station (NAS) Sanford] out here. Did I tell you this before? I just told someone the other day. We had a—oh, I guess Dianna [Dombrowski]. There was a big boom and so we had a large congregation, a lot of the Navy families came to Holy Cross and brought their children. Then when the base closed at the end of World War II, then when [the] Korea[n War] started up, they reactivated the base and so that’s when we had another huge influx. I have pictures of our Sunday school children all lined up all the way down the sidewalk of the church—is how active everyone was. I guess in wartime people do go to church more maybe. I’m not sure [laughs]. So that was—so of course, we had a large congregation, then after Korea, and after they closed the base permanently. Then of course, the congregation fell off, and I think the City of Sanford went through some doldrums there for a while.
The houses in the historic district, which is between First Street and Thirteenth Street from Sanford Avenue to French Avenue—is the historic district, where a lot of those houses were really run-down, but then we got another shot in the arm coming about in the ‘70s-‘80s, where[sic] people started—where[sic] people started buying those old houses and realizing the value in an old house, and it was—it became trendy to buy an old house and renovate it. People coming from Orlando—and they couldn’t afford Winter Park—and Downtown Orlando. They were coming to Sanford where they were much more reasonable. So we had a lot of that at that time.
But Holy Cross has held its—I don’t know what our membership is. I really don’t. I don’t even think I can guess. We have a hundred—maybe a 150—on church each Sunday, but we have many more than that, I’m sure.
That was an interesting period the ‘70s and the ‘80s. The people were coming and buying these old houses, and then we had the [Sanford] Historic Trust—now that’s another interesting group that might give you some insights. I don’t belong to the Trust, but they have a very active membership and they—I think they’ve done a lot toward getting people to repair their old homes, and of course, they set up a few little rules and regulations that nobody likes, but you know that’s the way it is with that sort of thing. Um, I don’t know. You’ll have to ask me a question. I’m kind of…
Smith
No problem. Are there any—would you say, big personalities, that you can think of, that have been connected with the church that maybe there are some interesting stories about?
Skates
Some interesting person from the church [laughs]. The only interesting person I think about in Bishop Whipple. [laughs] But he wasn’t from Florida.
Clarke
What about somebody from within your memory?
Skates
Well, I don’t know…
Clarke
You spend too much time before your memory.
Skates
I’m just lost in history.
Clarke
Yeah, but about things that you remember.
Skates
In my life—I’m trying to—we’ve had a lot of very interesting people…
Clarke
I guess the question was: who was[sic] the interesting people?
Smith
Just some interesting personalities.
Clarke
I—the church—I mean you’ve got the Chase family.
Skates
Well, the Chase family obviously. I guess we should.
Clarke
He doesn’t know that.
Skates
Well, he doesn’t know that [laughs]. The Chase family—actually Alicia’s the history…
Clarke
No. No, it’s—the thing is: from an outside observer—from when you’ve talked about in—I mean, it’s probably oversimplifying to say that they were sort of the aristocratic. But it does tend to be the Sanfords built the church, and then were they [the Chase family] —the major benefactors afterward?
Skates
Well, what happened over the years was…
Clarke
What was their role in the church in your lifetime? Who were the major benefactors? Or the major players in the church?
Skates
I think any time anything was needed for the church, they went to the Chase family.
Clarke
That’s something I always found interesting. Before your time it would have been the Sanfords, but…
Skates
See, when Henry Sanford died, his wife was trying to get some money to live on, because she didn’t have much, because he was pretty free with his money. But finally his son ended up selling Chase his—Henry Sanford’s—grove, Belair, to the Chase family for $5,000—500? Oh, that’s an interesting story.
Clarke
That’s another story.
Skates
The Chase brothers [Sydney Octavius Chase, Sr. and Joshua Coffin Chase] came from—where did they come from?
Clarke
That’s another story.
Skates
I’m back. I’m out of my element again.
Clarke
Well, what do you know about them?
Skates
The first group of Chases, then second group. I know the second group, because Julia Chase was the last one that died that was living out there at Belair. But she was just the Grand Dam. She was just lovely. Just one of those women that, when you look at her you, just know that she’s not just anybody.
Clarke
Mrs. Randall [Chase, Sr.].
Skates
Yes. Mrs. Randall Chase, and she was a lovely lady, but—and her family—none of her children live here, so we don’t have a Chase in our church. But when Julia died a few years ago, she had her son who was a priest, he did the…
Stinecipher
Randall [Chase, Jr.].
Skates
Randall. Yeah. See these people I’m not that familiar with them, because I haven’t—wasn’t there when they were there. Then she has a daughter who’s also involved in the Episcopal church up—someplace up north. Was it just the two children?
Clarke
No. There’s three. There’s Josh [Chase], Ran [Chase], and Laura [Chase]. You didn’t know any of them.
Skates
I didn’t know any of them, no. I’ve met the daughter several times when she’s been at church, but…
Clarke
Who were the leaders of the altar guild and things like? What groups were you in? I don’t mean to ask questions for Austin, but I think you’re thinking so much in your historian hat. You’re not thinking that you’ve been in the church…
Skates
39 years. Well, since 1969. Whatever that is.
Clarke
So you didn’t grow up in that church.
Skates
But I didn’t grow up in that church. No. I’m not a cradle Episcopalian, and you know that is not a good thing.
Clarke
That is news to me. I did not know that.
Skates
No. I am not.
Clarke
What church did you defect from?
Skates
I grew up in a Lutheran church.
Clarke
Oh.
Skates
I was confirmed in a Lutheran church.
Clarke
Here?
Skates
No. In Philadelphia, before we moved to Florida.
Clarke
Oh, so that’s why you know…
Skates
Yeah.
Clarke
So you only know about the past 39 years.
Skates
Yeah. Yeah. So that’s what I can—that’s what I can tell you about. And the history…
Clarke
So you know about 120 years ago and 39 years ago, but nothing in between.
Skates
But the in-between—I’m sort of—well, actually, I was very busy I was trying to get my education and trying to raise four children, so those are lost years.
Smith
No. I understand that.
Clarke
But you’ve been living on Park Avenue…
Skates
I’ve lived in the same house for 53 years on Park Avenue.
Clarke
That’s part of what I thought was interesting about Bette. She’s been living downtown. You’re talking about how downtown’s changed. You live in basically walking distance from the church.
Skates
I always thought that I would walk to church. I never have.
Clarke
And you’ve lived down there as downtown went downhill, and came back up again. That’s why I was thinking—she’s lived in the same house all this time, right in the middle of downtown. You’re not in the historic district though, are you?
Skates
Yeah.
Clarke
You are?
Skates
It’s to 13th Street.
Clarke
So she’s been in the historic district before it was there.
Skates
And also Park Avenue used to be [U.S. Route] 17-92. I think I told you that before, and that was the main street of the town. I don’t know what year it was switched over to French Avenue. And then after French Avenue, they moved—well, 17-92 still is French Avenue, you still have to go around. I’m sorry I have these gaps.
Smith
No problem. In your time as someone just living in the—so close to downtown—so close to the church—I don’t know if you went into this a lot in the last interview, but how has the area around you, that you’ve seen, changed?
Skates
It has, because the houses, at least—if you drive up and down those streets of the historic district, basically every house has been occupied and renovated and sold, and occupied and renovated. I mean, there’s a lot of that that’s gone on. It’s interesting to—and I don’t do it on purpose, but sometimes I find myself over on Myrtle [Street] or Elm [Avenue], which are the streets between Park and French Avenue, and I’m always kind of amazed, I think, Oh my gosh! Somebody’s fixed that house up. They’ve done a lot of in filling in Sanford, which is interesting. Lots that were vacant—they built houses on those lots, and the houses look a lot like my house, or other, you know, houses that are already there. So they’ve done a good job. There’s only one house in that district that I could show you that is not of era of the [19]20s-‘30s, even ‘40s. It’s—somebody was doing something in the ‘60s that it’s just one of those real modernistic looking buildings.
But—it’s changed, and Sanford probably right now is in a very good place I think, because they have so many of the younger crowd. I don’t really think—I don’t know this to be true—I don’t think we have a lot of churched people in this area. We have the old [All Souls] Catholic Church is right there on Ninth [Street] and Oak [Avenue], but the Catholic school is there. Now they moved the Catholic—they have services now on First Street. It’s the big church. You’ve probably seen out on First Street—a big Spanish church. But the old church there was built early on. Not as early as Holy Cross, but early. Actually, it’s a replacement too, because their first church burned. Because I know when our church burned, they gave us stuff, and when their church burned we gave them stuff, because we have some letters saying thank you for different things we gave them. But then they built the Catholic school over there, which has been a real boon to that church I think. It’s at capacity, I’m sure. It only goes to seventh or eighth grade, then they have to go to Bishop Moore [Catholic High School] in Orlando. But eventually, on their property on [Florida State Road] 46, they’re going to build a whole new church—I mean a whole new school and high school and everything. With the economy with the way it is, who knows when that will happen.
We have a convenience store in my neighborhood and my friends—and they’re used to be two or three houses on that property—my friends will say to me, “Bette, how did you let that happen?” I’ll say, “Y’all, I was busy.” When you’re raising a family and doing all those things—I wasn’t out there standing with my picket sign saying, “Down with 7-Eleven.” It was a 7-Eleven. It’s not anymore. Now it’s something—I don’t know what. But, so now they’ve got two filling stations on the corner of Thirteenth Street, which used to be filling stations, and then the convenience store, which is across the street down one block from me, which is not desirable. But since I didn’t get out there and picket them, I don’t know what I can do now. But that’s a danger in a neighborhood of letting those types of buildings in, because that does ruin the family atmosphere of the area. Now, that’s not being snobbish, I’m not saying that, because, you know—it’s[sic] just doesn’t belong there. If that had been a little small grocery store or something maybe—maybe, I’m not even sure about that. But once you bring that element in, then you’ve got a lot of trash and things. But it’s not like that—I mean, it was like that at a time. Every morning, I used to go out and, on my way to school, I would go and pick up the cups, and the paper, and stuff out on my front yard, but I don’t have that anymore, because they seem to be—I don’t know why not, but it’s just not. But that’s not good for a neighborhood.
Smith
One thing that I’ve heard about Sanford—and some people say that it continues on even today—is that there is a high crime rate in the area, or at least in the past 5-10 years, there had been a much higher crime rate. And that’s the picture—at least certainly as someone that lives over in Orlando and only hears about Sanford—that’s the picture that’s painted.
Skates
Yeah. And that’s, you know—let me give you my theory on that. And now I have to go back a little bit. [phone rings] I have a new granddaughter and I have to answer my—excuse me.
Smith
No problem. I can put this on pause.
The crime rate in the area and your theory on that.
Skates
Well, for one thing it annoys me that that’s Sanford’s reputation, because that’s not fair. Because Orlando has its areas that are just as bad. It just doesn’t seem to get as much publicity as Sanford does.
Here’s my theory, Sanford—when Henry Sanford—I wonder what my doodles mean. I’ll stop it. When Henry Sanford came here, this was going to be the thriving metropolis—the “Gateway to South Florida. I’m sure he envisioned all kinds of buildings and everybody coming to these stores and buying things and then moving on down south, which for a while it was like that. Of course, a lot of this has to do with fluctuations in the country’s economics too. Seems like things, you know, are up or down—are up or down.
The agriculture—citrus was great, but when the citrus was frozen out in 1895 and ‘96—the two back-to-back freezes—and just ruined the citrus crops. And when you’ve got those trees that will have to be taken out and replaced—that was after General Sanford’s time anyway. I think he died in ‘91. So there really wasn’t anything to do, so they started plowing up the fields and we have people in this organization [Sanford Historical Society] that are great on the celery. They started planting celery. Well, so when you get “dirt crops”—I’ll call them, ‘cause I don’t know what else you would call them—when you get crops like celery and cabbage, which is what they grew a lot of those type of crops, you have to have workers. Where do you get the workers? From someplace else, because they didn’t have—well of course, General Sanford had imported his Swedish people, but they weren’t going to do that type of work. So they got a lot of blacks coming down after the Civil War, they got people that would want to do that kind of work. When that happened, it became a migrant thing. The workers work in Sanford all through the harvest season. They would go to Upstate New York to Sodus and Syracuse, and they’d have their—well kind of like—you see the pictures of the people going west. Their cars loaded down and their children—going up north to work the fields up there. So when you have all those migrant workers, they’re not getting paid much of a wage. They don’t have a decent place to live. So areas grew up around Sanford that kind of—I mean the people were poverty-stricken. They—so when you think of poverty, you think of crime as going hand-in-hand.
That’s my theory of the reason that we have that and of course, with integration—or I should say with desegregation—it takes time. You can’t say, “Okay. Fine. You can come to my school today and we’ll make you well.” It doesn’t happen that fast. I mean, they’ve got to work the same years that everybody else does. So I think a lot of that was—this is just my theory. I haven’t read this in a book. I feel bad about it, because you feel guilty, because the people who are so distressed. But then you also feel sad that the whole city is tainted with the brush of holding people down, and so they’re angry and so what are they going to do? It’s—I don’t know. Does that work [laughs]? I just—it’s a sad story actually, I think, and it makes me feel bad. And I think when the first child was integrated in the school where my children went to school—her father was a local dentist—a black dentist. Mother—lovely people. And this one little black girl in this whole school of white children—God bless her. She turned out to be a teacher, and she’s done very well for herself, and her mother and father were wonderful people. What she suffered, I don’t know. I’ve never talked to her, but it’d be interesting to know her story. I’d like to think that she didn’t suffer, but then—I don’t know.
So I think that when you look at the part—and also when you take and you build like these developments, these housing projects—you’re lumping all these people that are unhappy together. And you’re supposed to be taking care of the houses. Well, sometimes the city, or whoever was in charge—like right now they’re having a big brouhaha about the upkeep of some of the project homes, so you can see what you—but Orlando has the same thing. I imagine every city has the same thing. Maybe Sanford is just more noticeable, because it’s a small town. We have a large population of blacks, but for the most part—at least the people I know—they’re educated. They’re trying to improve their families just like we are. So that’s kind of a sad tale, but that’s just what I think. I’m not sure what the question was [laughs].
Smith
Well, I guess then are there any other types of events, either connected to the church or just things that you’ve—and they’ve probably asked you this as well in the last interview, but any types of events—whether connected to the church or not that you experienced—that you remember as big events that stood out in the community or even for yourself?
Skates
Sanford has a lovely Christmas tour of homes and Holy Cross has been on the tour many years. The people open their homes to the—this is, I think, the first week in December, which is interesting and it’s nice to go through those—the old homes, the renovated homes—but it’s usually Downtown Sanford in the historic district . So that’s always a big thing Sanford has every—well, one Thursday a month, they have Thursday Night Alive. I have only been to two of them, because I just can’t do the walking, but they have wonderful food and drinks and dancing and all kinds of things in the street downtown. It’s a very nice thing. It’d be a nice place to bring a date or something on—I think it’s the third Thursday. Every month they close off the streets, and I think you pay one fee—like five or seven dollars—and then you go around and taste everything.
Smith
Did they do that last week?
Skates
Yeah. They did that last week.
Smith
Because I was down here and they had some streets closed off and I was wondering what was going on.
Skates
Yeah. That’s what it is. Was that the third Thursday?
Smith
I don’t know.
Skates
I don’t know what day it is. But anyway, can you think of anything else, I can’t think of anything that’s too earthshaking. Nothing. We don’t have any Disney-type characters running around on the loose or anything. [laughs]
Smith
Alright.
Skates
It’s very nice. No—it’s something to come over and take a look at.
Morris
This is an interview with John [Louis] Salsbury. This interview is being conducted on the 9th of September, 2011, at the Museum of Seminole County History. The interviewer is Joseph Morris, representing the Linda McKnight Batman Oral History Project for the Historical Society of Central Florida. Mr. Salsbury, could you tell us your name?
Salsbury
Yes. I would like to do this as a means of preservation of my family history, and I hope I can do a good job. Anyway, I’d like to start with the year of 1893, when my great-grandparents and my grandfather moved here from Portsmouth, Ohio, by train. My great-grandfather was a master carpenter, and he lived here—the family lived here—on the corner of [West] Ninth Street and [South] Park Avenue—the southwest corner—for about two years. My grandfather [Louis Salsbury] was 19 years old, and he was employed as a railroad telegrapher at the Sanford Railroad Station on the west end of Ninth Street. In 1895, which was the year they moved away, my grandfather participated in a professional bicycle race—a 25-mile race that began in Downtown Orlando, when Orange Avenue was a dirt road, and ended there. My grandfather won the race.
And after that they moved to Port Tampa, where my great-grandfather became a building contractor and was commissioned by Henry [B.] Plant to build a passenger terminal at the end of the railroad line there in Port Tampa, near Tampa. And steamships—the Mascotte and the Olivette—transported passengers from South America and Cuba to the United States. And they ported—they landed there at the docks. And the terminal building that my great-grandfather built was in use up until that passenger line ceased to operate, but the building remained to 1955.
Also, just a year or two before the building was commenced, that terminal, Teddy [Theodore] Roosevelt, his Rough Riders [1st U.S. Volunteer Calvary] and officers, were among the soldiers and troops that were encamped in the Port Tampa area en route to the Spanish-American War. Teddy Roosevelt and his officers were hosted and remained in my doctor’s—in the Salsbury family doctor’s—home, which was located about a block from my grandparents’ home, and where my great-grandfather built. My grandfather joined the Army and participated in the Spanish-American War, and following that war, my great-grandfather was commissioned to also build a very famous wooden hotel in Bartow-Clearwater area, over near Clearwater. It’s still in use. It’s the Belleview Biltmore Resort. It’s a large wooden hotel, and it’s still in use today.
Okay, after that, my grandfather married—and he was a telegrapher—and on the west coast at Palm Harbor, Florida, near the Gulf [of Mexico], and between Clearwater and Tarpon Springs, he married Rose Tinny—Rosalind Tinny. And my father [John Wright Salsbury, Jr.] was born in Port Tampa. My great-grandfather had built three homes there, and after my father graduated from high school in the year 1926, he found this moonshiner’s shoe. It was uncovered by a fire that had burnt some palmettos. My father found that—and they determined it belonged to the moonshiner. His name was Herndon, who was killed by the troops when he tried to steal corn from the soldiers encamped there for the Spanish-American War. Well, anyway, the left shoe that I have in my possession is in the Smithsonian Institution, and this right shoe I still retain.[1]
Okay, in 1914, just before this—at the age of 12—my father and his sister, Mary, at age of five, flew on the world’s first passenger, scheduled passenger airline from St. Petersburg to Tampa. As a member of the Florida Aviation Historical Society, I’ve been through a lot of this and photographed a lot. I’m their photographer. Well, anyway, in 1914, my father and my aunt flew with Tony Janus, or the line pilot, from St. Petersburg to Tampa. This airline was in operation for three months and flew 1,205 passengers, and is actually on record as being the world’s first scheduled airline.
My dad moved to—my dad and my mother—I was born in 1931 in Tampa, and my father and mother separated in ’41, and in 1941 we moved to Sanford and have resided in Sanford since. At least I have. My father was a railroad engineer with the Atlantic Coast Line [Railroad]. He had roomed with Cara Stenstrom, the mother of Douglas and Julian and Frank and Herb and Ruth Stenstrom—my stepbrothers and sister. Well, that year, or year around that time, the early 1940s, I recall having met Red Barber, the famous sports announcer’s father, there on the front porch. Okay, Red Barber, who actually went to school in Sanford and graduated from Sanford High School, went on to become the most famous sports announcer in baseball, football.
All right. I went into the Air Force in 1949, upon graduating from the Seminole High School. I was a radar operator, and while in the service, I served in Alaska, Newfoundland, Iceland, and West Germany. But some of the highlights of my service, while I was—after I returned from Alaska in 1951, I was able—stationed in Norton Air Force Base in the Air Defense Control Center there. I was able to see many movie stars: Marilyn Monroe, Lucille Ball, Lana Turner, Dean Martin and Jerry Lewis, Gregory Peck. I really enjoyed my time there at Norton, because I met all these people, and not only that, I made sure that I worked within the Air Control Center—gave me a ride, or I flew as the co-pilot in a twin-engine bomber trainer called a T-11. And while we were in operations, he was filing his flight plan—I was standing next to a tall gentleman at the counter, where he was filing a flight plan, and on this parachute he had draped over his shoulder was the word “Yeager. So I actually got a chance to see the famous Chuck Yeager, who broke the speed, the sound barrier. And outside was an experimental jet bomber, XB-43,—I remember they called it—and he was probably flying that at the time.
Anyway, after we took off in this T-11, the major took control of the aircraft ‘til we went over Edward’s restricted area, or Edwards Air Force Base. And then he showed me how to use the radio compass, and I honed it in on Palmdale, where the space shuttles were built. Well, anyway, I took control, and he let me fly the T-11 up over L.A.—Los Angeles—Laguna Beach, Long Beach, all along the coast. And then, when he said we had to go back, he asked me if I thought I could find my way back, and I said, “I believe so.” So I honed in on the mountains there—San Bernardino right there at Norton—and headed back to Norton. And that was one of the most memorable flights I’ve ever taken. I really enjoyed that. All right, uh, upon—you may pause it just for a second.
Morris
Good to go, sir.
Salsbury
Okie doke. Another thing I’d like to comment on about an experience I had while in the Air Force, stationed in Iceland, President [Richard M.] Nixon stopped over there on the way to Russia, in Keflavík Air Field [Naval Air Station (NAS) Keflavík] in Iceland, and being in radar, I knew about it. So I was down there with my camera—my movie camera—and was able to get some shots of Admiral [Hyman G.] Rickover as he walked out of the plane—walked by. Nixon didn’t get out of the plane, nor did his wife [Pat Nixon].
Okay, then, when stationed—before my retirement in 1969, I was stationed at Homestead Air [Reserve] Base in South Florida, in radar again. I was electronic warfare NCOIC [Non-Commissioned Officer in Charge], and President Nixon was inaugurated and flew right into Homestead AFB [Homestead ARB] the next day, and I took my son and my daughter over to see him. Well, lo and behold, we were only, right at the front of the fence there at the tarmac there at Homestead, and the President walked directly to us and shook our hands, and it appeared on the front page of The Miami Herald the next morning. So I had a—we had a wonderful experience of meeting Richard Nixon and shaking hands with him. And then I retired shortly after Neil Armstrong put foot on the moon.
Salsbury
And I came—we moved back to Sanford, and bought a new home here in Sanford, and I became employed as a postal clerk over in Orlando for one year in the sectional center, and then transferred to Sanford, where for 16 years I was a letter-carrier. Riding a bicycle and a jeep, carrying mail in Sanford.
Well, while in Sanford as a letter-carrier, I had been taking pictures of the first space shuttle launch from Titusville and the ones following that, and I was taking my film to Eckerd’s drugstore to have it processed. Through a questionnaire that I filled out, the Eckerd’s marketing management and headquarters in Clearwater called me one day. They asked if I would appear in a TV—television commercial for them. And from that, I was titled “The Shuttle Photographer,” and Eckerd’s produced and ran for a year and a half a commercial introducing their one-hour photo service. That helped me, in a way, get my foot in the door as becoming a press photographer at [John F.] Kennedy Space Center, to shoot the space shuttle launches up close. So from the end of ’91, I was credited as a press photographer with The Sanford Herald editor sponsoring me. And throughout the shuttle program, I served as a press photographer at the Space Center, covering the 30-year shuttle program.
Just recently, in July—in July the 21st—the [Space] Shuttle Atlantis landed, and I was there on the end of the runway, and I captured the landing and the tow back of the space shuttle for the last time of Atlantis. Atlantis just happens to be a particular launch vehicle that I took in 1994, November the 3rd, that turned out to be my most successful space shuttle photograph. It hangs in the NASA [National Aeronautics and Space Administration] Media [Resource] Center. A 30 x 40. It hangs in the Viera VA [Veterans Affairs] Hospital entrance. It hangs in museums, and it’s been purchased by a number of people over the years. So the STS-66 launch turned out to be my most successful space shuttle picture.
And now that the shuttle program has ended, I devote my future photography Endeavors towards shooting wildlife. And here in Lake Mary—close to Sanford—I have some blinds set up, and I have wood duck nesting boxes, and I have been very successful in photographing Florida birds here, and will continue doing so. Thank you, Joe.
Morris
Oh, thank you very much, Mr. Salsbury. I have a few more questions if that is okay.
Salsbury
Fire away.
Morris
Okay, Mr. Salsbury. Earlier you mentioned about the shoe that your family member had found previously?
Salsbury
Right. That was my father.
Morris
Could you describe that? Yes, your father, sir. Could you tell—could you describe that for us? And then tell us what purpose that shoe was being used for?
Salsbury
Well, sure. I’d be glad to.
Morris
Thank you, sir.
Salsbury
Joe, this shoe that I’m showing you has a tin foundation, or a base, to it, and nailed to the bottom of this piece of tin are two wooden replicas of cows’ hooves, out of wood, carved by this moonshiner. And what the moonshiner would do—he—he was able to attach this to his shoes and conceal his tracks as he went to and from his still, which was located near my family home in Port Tampa, Florida, Hillsborough County. And a fire had really exposed this to my father. It was wrapped—the shoes, the pair of shoes—were wrapped up in a newspaper and was charred, but was exposed when the fire burnt these palmettos along the roadway, which is now in Trask Avenue in Tampa, Florida. T-R-A-S-K. Anyway, when my father opened the package up, here was this pair of overshoes used by moonshiner by the name of Herndon in Port Tampa, to go to and from his still. This moonshiner was later shot to death when he attempted to steal grain—sacks of grain—from the soldiers camped in the area, or en route to the Spanish-American War from Port Tampa to Cuba, where they embarked from Port Tampa. They determined—they found out they were having sacks of grain stolen from them, or missing, so they set up a trap. And actually they caught the guy, and they shot him. But apparently he wasn’t wearing these shoes, and he had these hidden just to go to and from his still. And that’s how come I ended up—the right shoe I have, and I’m showing you at this time. The left shoe, in 1926, was given to the Smithsonian Institution and appeared in The St. Louis [Post-]Dispatch with a picture of it telling that it’s in the museum. I have been unable to locate that copy of The St. Louis Dispatch that I had. I don’t know what happened to it. But anyway, I do know that one shoe was in the Smithsonian Institution.
Morris
Well, thank you. That’s a very interesting piece you have there, sir.
Salsbury
Thank you.
Morris
Another question I have is—you said 1941[2] you moved to Sanford?
Salsbury
1941.[3]
Morris
Who did you move with, sir?
Salsbury
My father, my sister, Rosemary [Salsbury], and I. The three of us.
Morris
Okay, sir. And your sister, is she currently living in Sanford, or...
Salsbury
No, she lives on the west coast, over near Tarpon Springs.
Morris
Okay, sir. And you said, you were describing earlier your experiences working as a press photographer for The Sanford Herald.
Salsbury
Right.
Morris
Do you have any more experiences that you’d like to share about that, any kind of experiences working at the—as opposed to just taking photographs…
Salsbury
The only experiences I have—and one is very interesting ‘cause it deals with Seminole County. As a press photographer, I was given quite a lot of extra photo possibilities. There was a launch of [Space Shuttle] Endeavor—and I don’t recall just what mission it was at the time—but when I boarded the bus to go with an escort to go there to photograph it with my telescope, she handed out a sheet of paper that listed the dignitaries—the important events that was gonna be there at this event site that I had wanted to shoot from. One of them was Alan Shepard, who was the first American astronaut to go into space. All right. She told—I asked her if she’d point him out to me or help me find him. I wanted to get a picture of him. She said, “I could do better than that. I could have your picture taken with him.” So she did that, and they used my camera. And I sent the photo to Houston[, Texas]—to him—and he autographed it and returned it to me, and in turn I gave—I left one with him.
But I told him in the letter something very interesting that I found out. My classmate in 1949, Bettye Ball [Deadman] from Lake Mary, lived a short distance from Alan Shepard’s grandparents. Alan Shepard used to spend his summer vacations from Connecticut or New Hampshire in Lake Mary. He spent him out there, in his vacations, and his grandparents. One day he was missing, and they couldn’t find him. He was found on the Ball—Bettye, my classmate’s family’s—dining room table eating a banana. And so I told him about this in the letter, and he got a charge out of it.
But anyway, my stepbrother, Doug Strenstrom—Douglas Stenstrom—is the one that told me first that Alan Shepard had a connection with Lake Mary and Seminole County. And then, when I found that out, I was talking to Bettye Ball and she told me about the banana incident. And so, it so happens that Alan Shepard enjoyed a lot of his school summers, if not most of them, right here in Lake Mary, Seminole County. So, anyway, I got a chance to meet him.
Not only that—another thing I want to tell you, an interesting thing happened. I wasn’t a press photographer at the time but I had an eight-inch telescope, and I took this with me to shoot from Titusville the first launch of the space shuttle—STS-1 [Space Shuttle] Columbia. And the picture I took, turned out I shot into the sun, but I got a fairly good picture. For a color picture, it turned out black and white. But anyway, I got a good picture. Well, The Orlando Sentinel team saw me, and they took a picture of me with my nephew, Troy Hickson, from Lake Mary, as we were photographing with my telescope. And this was published and in The Sentinel.
Well, there was a time when I wasn’t—later on, when I wasn’t a press photographer, but I was shooting from the NASA Causeway with my telescope, and the gentleman told me I needed press credentials to get up close and get better pictures. So little wheels started turning in my head as to how I could bring this about. First thing I thought about doing was calling this photographer that had photographed me at the first launch over in Titusville at The Sentinel in Orlando. So I called, and they couldn’t use me in Orlando on the team, but he suggested something that really did it for me. And he suggested that I get a hold of the public affairs people at NASA, at Kennedy, and request a freelance pass—a pass as a freelance photographer. Well, I did this, and that allowed me to start getting passes to put my camera up remotely. I’d put my camera out right next to the shuttle, and using another man’s trigger at first—and finally I knew how to do it and I finally bought the equipment and did it on my own. But anyway, the sound after the solid rockets are fired triggers your camera, and you’re nowhere near it. You’re sitting there anchored down, but it’s up close to it. So that’s how I got my best pictures was in that manner.
Okay, after that first launch on the 12th of April of 1981, there was an air show. It went to Sanford Airport. And I took my son out there, and I had my camera along to shoot the show. And a friend of mine who had a shoe store in Sanford, Donald Knight—well known in Sanford—and he was a flight instructor and a pilot, and he was at front of operations prepping a Cessna for flight. And I walked up and commenced talking to him this day. This is after the launch of the shuttle. And he said, “Do you know whose plane that is next to me?” And I said, “No.” He said, “That’s Neil Armstrong.” I waited until Neil Armstrong came out and his family came out of the operations and got in their plane, and took pictures of this, and got some good pictures of Neil Armstrong. He left there and nobody, of all these people there—the thousands of people at the air show—knew he was there, I think. He taxied out and took off before the air show. So I got pictures of Neil Armstrong.
Another incident, having been with press credentials and having put my remote cameras out for the launch of John Glenn—STS-95—I was able to get a picture and he posed for me. And this was Buzz Aldrin, who stepped on the moon. And I also got pictures of several of the other astronauts, the one in STS-13—I mean not STS-13—the Apollo 13. And Gordon Cooper.
Now, not only that, over the years, I was able to meet and become friends with different astronauts, but one of the highlights of my time over there too took place when I was working part-time at [Walt] Disney World, [Disney-]MGM Studios.[4] I purchased a little lapel pin of Buzz Lightyear. Well, I had a taken a nice shot of the STS-61 launch of [Space Shuttle] Endeavor, that Story Musgrave was mission specialist of, and did a spacewalk to repair the Hubble [Space] Telescope. Well, my pictures came out so good. I made Christmas cards out of them, put “Merry Christmas,” “Happy New Year,” and all that on them, and I sent them to each one of the crew members in Houston, so when they landed, they would get Christmas card greetings at their launch. Well, I got responses from Kathy Thornton and different ones with autographed pictures of all of them and all that.
But six months later, I get a telephone call from Story Musgrave—Dr. Story Musgrave—who did the spacewalk repair on the Hubble telescope and was on the mission. He commented to me, he said, “That’s the best night launch picture I’ve seen. Would you make transparencies for me so I can use them in my lectures?” And he called me back later and asked me how much it was and all that. He wanted to pay for it. I didn’t want him to pay for it, but he sent me a check and paid for it. I asked him, I said, “Story, would you take a little Buzz Lightyear pin in space for me in your next mission coming up in September?” Or November. And that was STS-80. He called me back later and said, “Send it on.” He had room. He could take it. So Story Musgrave took a little Buzz Lightyear pin for me on the STS-80 mission of Columbia that ended up being the longest space shuttle mission flown, 17 days. When they returned, it took me two years to get it back. But I got it back, and it was still packaged and in the plastic, and it was accompanied by a certificate of authentication signed by Story Musgrave, telling that “this space,”—oh, “this lapel pin of Buzz Lightyear,”—or something to this effect—“was carried aboard Columbia for John Salsbury,” and so on. So I got this wonderful document to see that by.
So that kind of sums up some of the most important things that I remember as highlights doing my space shuttle photography over 30 years. I was able to meet a lot of the good ones, and one of them was Tom Jones, and I’m still in touch with him. Most, many of these pictures I have, like the one of STS-96—it shows shooting into the rising sun and everything, Rick Husband, who was killed when the Columbia exploded, he was the pilot of that one. And I’ve got a beautiful picture of that, autographed by the pilot, Kent Romminger. So, a lot of my pictures, even the one with John Glenn’s launch, turned out. I sent it to him. He autographed it for me. I’ve got the picture of John Glenn going up autographed. I’ve got all these autographs on my pictures over there. And my room looks like a museum itself.
Morris
Sir, that’s impressive.
Salsbury
Thank you. But that’s about it, in a nutshell, I think.
Morris
Well, sir, could you tell me a little bit about your family?
Salsbury
Well, I think I told you, let me, my great-grandfather’s name was John Wright Salsbury I. He was married to Addie—A-D-D-I-E—Burke Salsbury, and they moved here with their son, my grandfather—later grandfather—Louis Salsbury, to Sanford in 1893, as I mentioned earlier. My dad moved up here upon my mother and father’s separation in 1941. We moved to Sanford from Port Tampa, and that’s when I joined the Stenstrom-Salsbury family, or we were joined, and of course, Douglas and Julian are well-documented in their contributions here in Seminole County. And Frank, he married Henry Took—Harry [Patricia] Took—excuse me, who was a millionaire that owned a lot of groves. And he took care of the groves, my stepbrother did, Frankie.
And then Herb was a realtor. He was the other stepbrother, and Herb passed away a young man due to lung cancer. But he married Carolyn Patrick, and the Patricks own a packing—a fruit business of citrus and citrus-packing groves and so forth.
And my stepsister, Ruth, she married a young man that was—became a—he was an umpire in baseball—professional games, but then later became a—they moved to Cocoa Beach and he was on the City Council and he was a postmaster over there at Cocoa Beach, about the time when the Apollo program was going on. And Ruth—no, Julian, was a sports announcer and writer for [The Sanford Herald], he announced for Red WTRR Sanford, a radio station, and he wrote for the columns for The Sanford Herald. And he wrote a lot of them about “Way Back Then”—they titled it—and I have copies of those. He had a wonderful memory and recall of sports. He mentioned—he brought a light that Buddy Lake from Lake Monroe, in Sanford—and Lake Mary, in the Sanford area—a ball player, ended up in the hall of fame from Julian’s efforts. He found out that Buddy had led hitting and pitching at one time, and this was something that hadn’t been done before. This was back when he played for Florida State League. And Julian also brought out the fact that Jackie Robinson broke the color barrier here in Sanford at the Sanford ballpark when he was playing for the [Brooklyn] Dodgers.
Julian and I—well, Julian became an official in the Southern Baptist brotherhood out in California, in Bakersfield, and I was stationed at Norton Air Force Base in the ‘50s. He and I attended a professional spring training ballgame between the Cincinnati Reds and another team I don’t recall. And Julian and I were sitting on the third base bleacher line there in the stands, and I was sitting maybe ten feet away from a gentleman with a cigar in his mouth. And Julian asked me if I knew who that was. He said, “That’s Branch Rickey.” So Branch Rickey is one of the two people that Red Barber dedicated his book, Walking in the Spirit, to. A great book. It’s in the museum in Sanford. It was given to Julian by Douglas. Anyway, Red Barber mentions—no, Julian wrote an article about Red Barber that I have as well too, and it was published in the Sanford paper, telling about Red Barber’s ball playing and his living here in Sanford. So, I can’t think right offhand of a lot of the highlights that Julian brought out. But anyway, they’re well-documented and covered in articles he wrote for the paper while he was there.
Oh, another thing, myself and my younger stepbrother, Frank, and my classmates, John Keeling and Richard McNab—Keeling just passed away and he was a retired colonel in the Army. Worked in the Pentagon. And Richard McNab—retired colonel—Lieutenant Colonel in the Air Force, who flew B-47 reconnaissance aircraft. He’s living in Ocean Springs right now. And we all were on the American Legion baseball team in 1948. On March the 16th of 1948, Babe Ruth came to Sanford. Julian was the announcer, the master of ceremonies. Carl Hubble was there, John Krider, and Julian, and the mayor, Mayor Williams. Julian introduce a number of the people there, but the mayor actually introduced Babe Ruth. And I was there, and my other members played on the American Legion we had at the time. Babe Ruth signed baseballs for all of us, and we were given these baseballs signed by Babe Ruth. Well, anyway, the wonderful thing happened was that Julian and all of the commentary and all the narration or the talking that was done, even Babe Ruth’s voice, was recorded on a recorder—on a platter, a record, by someone. Well, Julian, my stepbrother, ended up having a copy of that, and he found it before passing away. And we transferred that over to an audio tape, from there to a VHS tape, and now I have it on DVD. We have Babe Ruth’s actual voice, which was eight months to the day before he died, when he was here in Sanford and honored in Sanford. So that about covers everything, Joe.
Morris
How about your immediate family?
Salsbury
Oh, I’m sorry. I have two children. My wife was from Lake Mary. Her name was Yvonne Eubanks, and she passed away five years ago today, on September 9, 2006, here in Sanford Hospital. She had diabetes and her kidneys gave out on her.
We have two children. My son is a lieutenant in the fire department, Lake Mary, and my daughter has moved to Tennessee. She was married to Bill Von Herbulis and had a daughter then. And her daughter, Jessica [Frana], well, anyway, later married. But before that my daughter remarried Steve Frana. His father’s friend owned Tube Tech. It’s a stainless steel plant here in Sanford. And there’s a connection. My son-in-law, Steve, actually made all the space shuttle hinges for their payload doors right here in Sanford. So it goes back to the space program.
But anyway, Steve’s father’s passed on now, but my daughter and Jessica—her daughter by her first husband—they all moved to Tennessee, and have a 45-acre farm up in Tennessee, real nice farm. And Steve had already had four children, two boys and two girls. So then—well, anyway, the total grandchildren I have now are nine, seven by my daughter and two by my son, and I have four great-grandchildren up in Tennessee. And, well, I’m living alone now. And in my latter years, I’m trying to get my family history together, and what we’re doing today, Joe, will help out very much.
Morris
Well, we definitely appreciate it, sir.
Salsbury
Thank you.
Morris
Just one final question, just ‘cause we’re greedy for history.
Salsbury
Did I mention my daughter’s name?
Morris
Ah, just in case, repeat, sir.
Salsbury
I don’t think I did. My son’s name was Terrence Wade Salsbury. He’s the Lieutenant in the Lake Mary fire department. My daughter’s name is Gale—G-A-L-E, not G-A-I-L, but G-A-L-E—Salsbury Frana—F-R-A-N-A. And, oh, one thing I failed to mention is very important. My daughter’ s first child, Jessica, she’s graduated from Wake Forest [University] and from University of Tennessee. She married a Pete Exline, who was a captain in the U.S. Army. Pete was a graduate of [The United States Military Academy at] West Point. His home was Jacksonville. Pete was sent to Iraq for a year, and upon returning from Iraq, he was put in the university, or Georgia Tech [Georgia Institute of Technology], for nuclear physics training, schooling. And from there and today, he has already started. He is an instructor at West Point, instructing nuclear physics. So my grandson-in-law, whatever, my grandson is teaching nuclear physics at West Point right now. So now you got my end of it. [laughs]
Morris
I do, sir. Can you describe the differences from Sanford and the local area now, than it was when you saw it in your earlier days, sir?
Salsbury
Well, from what I remember mostly, you couldn’t go to a restaurant or practically anywhere without running into people you knew. It was a tight area here, and we knew so many people. And I enjoyed growing up here in Sanford. Throughout my life, oh—there is something I want to mention.
Morris
Okay.
Salsbury
My grandmother—her great-great-grandfather—now because she married, her father was a Tinny in Clearwater, and they were very wealthy, and the family had owned most of what is Downtown Clearwater right now, at the time. Well anyway, her mother was a daughter of a Anna Frank Bellamy. Now, her grandfather was a William Bellamy, the son of Abraham Bellamy, who was one of the first legislators of the state of Florida when it became a state. He was on the committee that wrote the first Florida constitution, and is a signatory of the first Florida constitution, which was, hell. And my grandmother’s uncle, who was a Bellamy—John Bellamy—he paved a road between Tallahassee and St. Augustine, and parts of it is still there with his name on it. And one of the Bellamys also had paved the way for the first railroad line between Port St. Joe in Tallahassee before the other railroad lines in Florida. And the Bellamys owned a plantation. Plantations were among the wealthiest people in the state of Florida at the time, and Madison County, up near Tallahassee, is where they’re buried. But the Bellamys are distant ancestors of mine through my grandmother.
Morris
Wow, sir.
Salsbury
I didn’t want to miss that because I wanted to get that in there somewhere. But my grandmother’s—one of my grandmother’s sisters—well, I’ll go a little further. One of my grandmother’s sisters, she was blind in her old age, but she married a Leslie Evie. Her name was Ebie Evie, and she was a Ebie Tinny Evie. Anyway, she and her husband owned what ended up to be a sort of a hotel later, but it was a boarding house and a post office and a waiver point for ships going down the west coast of Florida. And they stopped in there for provisions and so forth—before Tampa was a Tampa, before St. Petersburg was a St. Petersburg. Back in those days, it was one of the big stops along the way. So my aunt—my great-aunt, Ebie—she even hosted a Russian hierarchy woman that was in the hierarchy of the Russian—in the Russians.
Anyway—but when she was a little girl. They were born—my aunt, grandmother, and her sisters, my great-aunts—they were born in a log cabin at Curlew, on Curlew Creek right there next to Dunedin, between Clearwater and Tarpon Springs in a little town called Dunedin. Curlew’s where they were born in a log cabin. Well, as a young girl, my grandmother’s sister was farmed out to live with a surgeon at Fort Brook in Tampa—before there was a Tampa—the fort there. So this surgeon and his wife raised Ebie as a little girl there, before she got married, anyway, for a number of years. So Fort Brook, in now-Tampa, was involved in all this.
And then, another sister of my grandmother’s, who was a Tinny—born over there at that log cabin, Ira Wood. Ira Wood was her name, after her married name—Ira Tinny Wood. She and Ebie are two people that are very dear to my memory, because I would spend my school years in Sanford, all my summers over there swimming and scalloping and fishing at my grandparents’ there in Ozona, where they lived. And I spent an awful lot of time at their house. My Aunt Ira, her kitchen always smelled like a bakery, or had smell of those cookies, or something baked in there. I’ll never forget it. And then Ebie, she always sat on the front porch at 1981 High Alder, right by their house, and she’d sit on the porch since she was blind. But so many people, and I’m one of them, enjoyed just sitting there talking to her on that screened porch over the years.
And, now, Aunt Ira, who was one of the sisters I was telling you about, of my grandmother, she had a son named Duane—William Duane Wood. That was the name of her husband, but this was William Duane II, and we called him Duane. He and my father were very close, and they grew up together, and he was a naval pilot in World War II. And after he got out of the Navy, he wasn’t a fighter pilot, but he was in the Navy, and he gave me a ride in a Piper Cub he had with floats, there in Ozona. Gave me my first sea plane ride. But anyway, he was hired by the Department of Interior—United States Department of Interior—to oversee Sanibel, the island down there. He lived by the lighthouse, and they provided him an airplane and a launch, and he protected the island from the turtles that, you know, nested there, and different things. He flew up and down the coast and provided samples of water. Anyway, before he died—and I was with him when he passed away over in Tarpon Springs, with my aunt—now that was my aunt that flew in the first airline. But anyway, my uncle[5], Duane Wood, he contributed and helped build the flying model, the Benoist model XIV, which was the air boat that Tony Janus flew in 1914.
And then our president—remember I’m in the Florida Aviation Historical Society—and our president’s gone now, but he flew in 1984, he flew over the same route—this re-model, flying model of the original airplane that flew back in 1914. He flew it over that route, and it’s all documented. And afterwards, it ended up in a museum near Clearwater, and Russell [St.] Arnold, who was a director in the Florida Aviation Historical Society and the primary person responsible for building this flying replica, is the one that gave me my membership and introduced me. I happened to be over showing some videotapes of air shows at Daytona and around to my uncle, Duane, while he was bedridden in Tarpon Springs before he died. Russell [St.] Arnold was there, called him over, and I was able to meet him. And I found out that Duane was instrumental in helping build, or contributing money, contributing something, I don’t what he contributed to the building of this air boat.
Now, in 1991—I think it was, ’90 or ’91—before he died, Russell [St.] Arnold invited myself and my aunt to go see this flying model in the museum. And it was sitting on the floor at the time, and Russ said, “John, get in.” I said, “I can’t do that. That’s a museum piece.” He said, “Well, it’s mine. I guess you can!” I got in there, and he took a photograph of me standing next to it with my aunt standing beside it, and I have a good picture of that. So now, today, the model—that flying model of the Benoist model XIV flying boat—hangs in the museum in St. Petersburg, at the million dollar pier right there at their historical museum, and they’ve got mannequins in the cockpit up there.
But not long ago, a Nicole Stott, who was from Clearwater, flew on the space shuttle as a mission specialist. She carried the banner that flew on the first Benoist model XIV, or on that flight—first flight—with Tony Janus in 1914. She took that aboard the space shuttle, and it’s been returned, and now, if you looked at the airplane hanging in the museum, you’ll see that banner up there that she flew in the space shuttle. Not only that, there’s another connection if you want to hear it, about that.
Morris Of course, sir.
Salsbury
Okay. I didn’t know it, but being a member of the Florida Aviation Historical Society, I knew Ed Hoffman[, Sr.], who was a man that started our society, and was instrumental in building this too, and all that with our president. He passed on here a while back, the day before he was supposed to be inducted into Florida Aviation’s hall of fame. And, anyway, his son, Eddie [Hoffman]—Ed was an architect in San—uh, Tarpon Springs. And he did the interior decoration for the famous—world-famous—Pappas [Riverside] Restaurant. It was over at Tarpon Springs. But anyway, his son, Eddie, is a pilot and he has his own plane, and he’s an architect, and he and I are in communication with each other. And he sent me an e-mail a while back. And it so happened that Nicole Stott and her father—or at least the family—were friends of the Hoffmans—my friends. And Nicole Stott’s father was an aerobatic pilot. He liked flying aerobatics. Well, he took up one of the Hoffman’s flying boots[?], and somehow it crashed into a seawall and he drowned sometime back. And so, uh, that was a tragic ending there. But Nicole Stott, his daughter, ended up being a, uh, shuttle mission specialist, and flying a mission—a few missions back. So I just wanted to mention that.
Morris
Ah. Thank you very much, sir. Do you have anything else you’d like to discuss before we wrap things up?
Salsbury
You know, things were out of context and not chronologically spoken. But I’m glad I remembered the things that I did, and I only want to close by saying that photography has meant so much to me now, and I’m enjoying my days now using a digital Nikon camera that I use for the shuttle and getting wonderful wildlife pictures here in Seminole County.
Morris
Thank you so much for coming today, sir.
Salsbury
Okay.
Morris
Really appreciate that.
Salsbury
Thank you.
Morris
Okay, go ahead.
Salsbury
Okay. Something I want to add. In early 1994, Florida Aviation Historical Society’s president, Ed Hoffman, Sr., asked me to get together photographs of the Cape [Canaveral] area—Kennedy, Cape Kennedy—to go in Florida Aviation History in Pictures. It’s going to be made into an exhibit for the Florida Aviation Museum [Florida Air Museum] in Lakeland. And he gave me the assignment of handling the Cape. So, I had contacted Washington[, D.C.] and Houston and obtained the transparencies I needed to have prints made.
And I—well, later—and this was on April the 11th of ’94—the SUN ‘n FUN air show was going on, and they closed the museum there at Lakeland [Linder Regional] Airport to have a dedication ceremony for our exhibit that the Florida Aviation Historical Society put on—Florida Aviation in Pictures. And so, I attended that, and I had my camera, and I was photographing our president, Hoffman, as he was at the podium, and the director of the SUN ‘n FUN started identifying celebrities or people in the crowd. And he mentioned Curtis Brown, and I lit up and knew immediately who it was. I turned, and I went straight, I left the podium and went straight to him, and I asked him if he would pose for me in front of the exhibit I put together on the Cape, there in the museum. And he did. He posed with me and the president in there, and I didn’t know at the time, but Curt Brown also carried aloft on his mission, STS-66, later. A few months later, he carried aloft a decal and a document from the museum, the SUN ‘n FUN museum. Now it’s the Florida Aviation Museum.
So, as it turned out, I got a chance to meet him and talk with him, and he recalled getting a picture from me of one of the launches when he was at CAPCON, one of the controllers of a mission at Houston. Okay. I told Astronaut Brown that if I got good a picture at his launch, I would send it to him and ask him to autograph it, and so forth. As it turned out, November the 3rd of that year, it was the best picture I’ve ever taken. And I set up two cameras, same location, just to be—to try to get a good picture, and it turned out that way. It’s done very well for me. In fact, a 30 x 40 is hanging in that Florida Aviation Museum now, in Lakeland, as well as in the Viera Hospital, Viera Hospital over here on the coast, near Kennedy. And then the Kennedy Space Center Media Center, and different places. Anyway, Curt Brown later was the commander of the mission that flew John Glenn back into space.
And, well, I want to back up just a few days, because that dedication ceremony took place on the 11th of April of 1984. On the 8th of April of, just a few days earlier, STS-59 Endeavor was to launch on the 8th. And I was out at the fire training tower in the boonies, which was actually about four miles from the pad where the shuttle was. I was out there getting ready to photograph the launch, and up these metal stairs came Ronald Howard, Opie [Taylor] of The Andy Griffith Show, and now a director, producer—anyway, a movie star. His wife and daughter, along with Tom Hanks and his wife. And NASA escorts had brought them up there right beside me, to where I was shooting from. Well, I had a very powerful pair of binoculars—ten power—and they only weighed about nine ounces—Pentax—and I decided to let them use them to look at the shuttle from where we were. And that was the 8th of April, and that day, the shuttle was scrubbed and didn’t go up. But the next day, Tom Hanks couldn’t come with his wife. They had to go back or they couldn’t make it, but Ron Howard walked up to the stairs with his wife and daughter, came straight to me, and said, “Your binoculars are on the front page of The Orlando Sentinel this morning.” Here Tom Hanks is with my binoculars, looking at the shuttle.
Well anyway, I let Ron Howard have my binoculars so they could use them to look at the launch. Well, I photographed it, and he let his daughter use them, and they stood right next to me as the shuttle actually launched on the 9th of April. Well, I told Ron Howard—in fact, I brought the picture of him next to me, I brought that up and he autographed it right on the spot. But I told him that I knew the pilot, Curt Brown—no, Kevin Chilton, I want to back up there. The pilot then was Kevin Chilton. I knew the pilot and I would have an autographed picture sent to him for his daughter, and I did that later. I got a NASA photo, 8 x 10, and had Chilton autograph it, and I sent it to Ron Howard. But, having a chance to meet Ron Howard and Tom Hanks and everything there, for a launch, was a highlight that I don’t want to forget. You can pause if you want to.