Ford
Hi. My name is [Frank] “Chip” Ford. I’m with Jackie Caolo. It is October 20th, 2012, and we are at Jackie Caolo’s home. Jackie, um, where are you from originally?
Caolo
Actually, born in Texas, raised in Florida, then travelled for 20 years with the Navy with my husband.
Ford
And—well, when did you move to Sanford[, Florida]?
Caolo
Actually, 1956.
Ford
Mmhmm.
Caolo
My husband was transferred here with the—the Naval Technical Training Command.
Ford
And what was Sanford like back then when you moved here in 1956?
Caolo
Wonderful. It was just wonderful. It was really a Navy town, and most everybody here was—that you talked to—was from the Navy, and, uh, a nice place to raise children. Wonderful teachers in the schools. We just always—we picked Sanford. Uh, my husband was able to pick his own, uh, place of deployment. So we were here for a year, and then we had to go to Texas for a year for, uh—and then he retired there, and then we settled down, came back to Sanford, and stayed here the rest of the time.
Ford
So, uh, what were some of the factors that got you into teaching people how to swim?
Caolo
Well, I had always been a swimmer when I was a young girl, and one of my friends won the swimming and diving championship in Berlin[, Germany]—Catherine Rawls[sp]—and I was always so proud of her and I always wanted to kinda be like her, but, uh—also, I thought everyone knew how to swim and when I found out they didn’t know how to swim, I thought, Well, it’s—uh, I went out to the Navy base actually to get my children started in advanced swimming, and the teacher there needed assistance, because her husband was, um, in a squadron in, uh, Vietnam. So I offered to help her and that’s how I really started teaching—assisting her in 1956 and ‘57. So…
Ford
And what were some of your experiences with those early lessons? Do you remember, like, how they were set up or…
Caolo
Well, you—you mean the, uh—my classes?
Ford
Mmhmm.
Caolo
Well, I always felt it was important to teach water safety, because if you teach them how to swim, but don’t teach them the water safety—so that was always emphasized—was water safety, how to behave in and around the water, and, uh, just as long—and I felt just as long as they were happy doing that, that they would learn faster, which they did, and…
Ford
Were you nervous at first?
Caolo
No, not really. I always just had—I knew that I could reach anybody at any, uh—because I knew I was young and agile, and I could get from one end of that pool to the other in nothin’ flat. Uh, so I had classes on the hour, every hour, from eight in the morning to nine o’clock—10 o’clock—and hopefully just 10 to a class, but quite often people would say, “Well, we brought our neighbor over. Is that all right if they swim?” And I couldn’t help but say, “Okay, go ahead,” and, uh, I just kept right on with the classes, until, uh, adults came at night, of course, at eight o’clock and nine o’clock, and it was a hard time getting them out of the pool. They had such a good time they never wanted to leave too, so we just had a good time.
Ford
And you mentioned adults. Uh, who—who were some of the people you, uh—you were teaching to swim back then? Did you teach all ages—adults, kids?
Caolo
Oh, all ages, yes. The older children, of course, came earlier. Uh, I’d say the adults I taught actually—Emory Blake brought his children—Jeff Blake and his sisters and brother—and, um, also I taught, um, a little girl named Dana Morosini. In fact, her father’s letter is in my folder, but Dana had her swimming lessons here, and I didn’t realize that later she had married Christopher Reeves[sic], and, uh, I saw ‘em on television, so I called her mother in New York and I said, “Is that my little Dana?” And she said, “Absolutely, sure is. So be sure an’ watch it this weekend. They’re gonna have a big program about it.” So I saw her on television. Then unfortunately, Chris died. Then her mother, Helen [Morosini], who was my good friend. She died from elective surgery, uh, and then later on, Dana also did, but she was one of my students here that—a lot of people’ve[sic] grown up to be pretty famous. They weren’t famous when I knew ‘em, but they got famous when I got through [laughs].
Ford
Ah, so—and, uh—so what were your experiences like teaching African- American children how to swim back in the 1950s?
Caolo
Well, uh, they were just so anxious, because they never had the opportunity to go swimming, and they didn’t know that the water was wet, and they didn’t know that if you jump in, you were gonna go to the bottom, but it was fun teaching them to learn to understand the water and to learn how to enjoy it, and I learned that they—the black children—learned just as fast if not faster, because of their—they’re so anxious, and, uh, I thoroughly enjoyed it and got to know a lot of people, and a lady they used to call Mother Wilson—everybody in Sanford knew her, because she used to take care of, uh, people out in a nursing home. So she came to watch on a patio one day, and I was real pleased. She came to the edge of the pool and she put her finger up. She said, “I see that they learn more than just to swim when they come here,” and I was very flattered with that. She was right. The children learned early that I said what I meant and meant what I said, and they listened to me and I listened to them. So we got along just fine.
Ford
Did you have any negative experiences?
Caolo
Well, yeah. The—not really. One little girl came, and she told me—she says, “You’ve got a yucky pool. Yucky, yucky, yucky.” She didn’t want to swim. [laughs], but she did—but that was her—I couldn’t help but laugh at her, but, uh, I think that there might have been some people that felt at first that the children were—they didn’t think they could understand in mind. Well, children understand in mind very well, if you say what you mean and mean what you say. Yep.
Ford
Uh…
Caolo
I told you about the poem that I wrote. So they all learned how to say that poem first and then we’d go on the swimming sidewalk. You don’t go near the swimming sidewalk when you have your clothes on. You wait until you—until you’re in your bathing suit.
Ford
You want to say that poem for us?
Caolo
Oh, sure. I’d love to. I’d say:
Sit down first and look around,
‘Cause we’re the smartest kids in town.
Never, never swim alone,
Practice 9-1-1 on the phone.
Big black clouds will spoil your fun,
And pretty soon here comes the sun.
Lots of laughs help learning too,
Underwater, I see you.
Underwater hear me sing,
Swim and turn and do your thing.
Safety first and safety last,
Say the whistle, get out fast.
Attention friends,
Now have some fun.
I love you,
You’re number one.
Yay!
Ford
[laughs].
Caolo
Also there are mirrors underwater. That’s—when they’re underwater, “I see you”—that’s when they’d go underwater and look at themselves in the swimming, uh, mirror.
Ford
[laughs] So did you teach at one location or did you go all over Sanford and Seminole County to teach people how to swim?
Caolo
At first, I went all over, until we built the pool here, and, uh—and I went wherever they, uh, went—downtown at the downtown pool, but that does remind me, the downtown pool was, uh, like a two-story pool, and they asked me if I would teach down there. They gave me nine mornings to teach in the swimming—and I said, “Well, I’m so free. I would…” “Well that’s all the time we can give you.” So the children would come and there were just dozens of them in the class, and they would go upstairs, but the parents were made to stay downstairs—but upstairs, I had to ask—I went to Seminole High School and asked volunteers to help me, because the children couldn’t touch bottom there. So it was difficult teaching ‘em swimmin’ when your feet won’t go down. So I had a group—in fact, one of the mothers that helped me way back then is still—she went in to teach swimming herself, and she’s still teaching, uh, but one day, after the swimming classes, they all left and there was a whole group of children, and later on that day, the mothers—two of the mothers took five of the children out to Crystal Lake in Lake Mary, and they sat on the—way up on the side of the hill, and they let the children go in the—in the pool, not realizing the children would swim, then they’d would stand up and take a breath. They could not pass—they hadn’t done enough to pass their test, and one little boy would swim and then he’d stand up. Then he’d swim and stand up, and swim and stand up, and then disappeared, and the parents did not have enough time to go out in the water and get him and he drowned. I was—that was so that many years ago. I was so upset when I heard about that, and that’s when I decided that the parents needed to learn as much as the children. So the parents were always allowed to pay attention in, but that was—that was a terrible thing.
Ford
Um, so what were some of the methods that you used to teach children? Did you, like, get them all in the pool and then you jumped in there with them? Or…
Caolo
No, uh, the children—when they would do their safety walk around the pool—and the reason you do that—when you have a pool, there could be a snake in the water, and you could get in trouble. One time there was a opossum that had fallen through the screen, and it was hangin’ on underneath a chair. So you did your safety walk first, and then you listened to directions. Swim up, swim back. Swimmers up, swimmers back, and they learned that you just don’t go out and just jump in, and then, um, they would sit down and they’d do their kicking on the side of the pool, and then they would learn to turn over on their stomach and slip in the pool and monkey around to the step. Monkey around—you let your hands take you around the pool, and I had my pool built so that a young child—there’s a little ledge on the bottom where their feet could touch. When they feel like they could touch, they’ll feel more secure. So they would walk around and let their feet touch and they would swim over to the side of the pool, and then one at a time, they would jump out to me, and when they would jump out, gradually they’d let ‘em get a little wetter and a little wetter, and then turn around and swim back to the step. That was their first—“to jump out pick a bale of cotton. Jump out turn around pick a bale of hay. Jump out pick a bale of cotton.” That’s the way the children learned—sing their little song happily and do their swimmin’.
Ford
So you mentioned that the pool was here at the house and you gave lessons here. What’d the neighbors think?
Caolo
Well, at first, they didn’t mind so much [laughs], but when it got so there were dozens of cars—but they never really complained. I felt that my neighbors were very, very tolerant, and they realized what I was doing was to benefit everyone in town, and so nobody ever stopped me or ever complained, uh, except when I brought in the Head Start [Program] children in. At first the chief of police at that time, didn’t think I should do it, but he was a good friend. He never stopped me. I continued teaching and—right up until I actually saw him years—years later, and, uh, when he saw me, I was at a private party, and, uh, when he saw me and gave me a big hug and thanked me for all the work. So he wasn’t against it. He just wasn’t used to it, you know, and one young black man told me—he said that the first day when they let him sit at the edge of the pool downtown and stick his water[sic] in that wonderful cool water, he said it just felt like something he had never ever experienced before, but they knocked down the pool and that was the end of that and the only place you could take swimming, uh—and teach the black children was to come here. They knew that then and they know it now. We’d go out there today if we could [laughs].
Ford
[laughs] Now—so you’ve been involved in teaching swimming now for basically 40 years?
Caolo
50 years.
Ford
50 years?
Caolo
50 years with the American Red Cross Water Safety. The entire 50 years from start to finish.
Ford
So how—how did your curriculum or style of teaching change over the years from the—from beginning to when you retired?
Caolo
Actually, I would say it’s never changed. There’s[sic] some techniques that I’m not very fond of that I hear that other—they fall in the pool. They’re supposed to roll over onto their back. Well, I had people bring their children here who had been through that technique, and they roll on their back and their face is gettin’ all wet. They’re gurgling and sputtering and cryin’, and I like to teach my children, if they fall in, you turn around and go back to the wall. I don’t want you to turn over on your back and stay out in the middle of the pool. Somebody’s gotta go get ya. So I—my technique really never changed much.
Ford
So what were some of the factors that made you concentrate on water safety as the focus of swimming instruction?
Caolo
Well, you know, the—you know, the, um, American Pediatric Association would say that you should never teach your children how to swim before five years old, but what they really, um, should say and do say now is, uh, you should start teaching your children water safety from the time they’re babies. You start in the bathtub and let them learn that the water is wet, and how to splash their little hands, and, um—the point I was gonna make was, uh, their safe—their water safety, as opposed to—yeah. You teach water safety, and teach them how to love the water and understand the water from the time they’re—well, actually six months is—is a good time to start. You can start earlier in the bathtub, then you play around ‘til they’re six months old, and then you can start lettin’ ‘em fall off the sides and into the water.
My grandson—at four months old, he was able to fall off the step and turn around by himself and get to the step at four months old, but he just—I’ve been teaching him since—well, the doctor says he can get wet at three days old. So into the pool—into the bathtub actually, not the pool—into the bathtub, and you want to learn that water is wet. So many people, uh, prevent them, and you start teaching the actual swimming strokes and swimming lessons possibly at four to five years old, and that’s when swimming lessons—such as the overarm crawl, American crawl, breaststroke, backstroke—when they’re five, but you certainly start teaching water safety long before then.
Ford
So when did, uh—when did you start teaching children five and under how to swim? What made you decide that that’s where you wanted to focus as well?
Caolo
Well, actually, uh, whenever anybody ever brought a baby here, I’d say, “Well, let me—let me get ‘em used to the…” I guess, show them how to let them go into the bathtub and get started, and then when they were old enough, to bring ‘em here. Age never made much difference to me. The only thing I did was teach the older children, you know, at eight in the morning, before they went to school perhaps, and, uh, I took the babies as soon as they were born.
Ford
How many babies do you estimate that you taught how to swim?
Caolo
Thousands, thousands. I, uh—it’s almost unbelievable to, uh—when I say “thousands,” I mean thousands, but sometimes I’d have a hundred children a day here for all summer long, and, um…
Ford
So what were some of the factors that made you decide to do the Miss Jackie and Sally Seal Water Safety Video?
Caolo
Oh, actually that was kind of accidental. On my birthday, they were gonna have a surprise birthday party for me at the [Sanford] Civic Center, and they’d made arrangements with the school of dance and arts to bring their dancers, and the singers to bring their singers. So they—my son sent over a photographer—an underwater photographer—and a young lady that did the typing. So they made the tribute, which is at the back of the, uh, video, but that was the first thing we did, and, um, with the leftover film from that, my son took it to a photograph—uh, producer—in Dallas[, Texas], and said, “What do you think we could do with this?” And he said “Well, I think you got somethin’ there.”
So I put together the video, and that video later—uh, it’s been used all over Miami, uh, Sanford, even in Holland. Um, when I was over there travelling with my daughter, um—but, um, the video was submitted, without my knowledge actually, to, um—um, to a safety-for-children program. It took first place and I got a wonderful, uh—it’s equivalent to an Oscar.[1] Uh, it’s called a Telly, I think, and I’ve got it here somewhere. It’s a beautiful bronze statuette that we took first place for safety on the video for children’s safety. Not necessarily water safety, but all safety for children. I was proud of that.
Ford
Do you feel like you’ve—you’ve kind of expanded your teaching methods through the use of the video out to more and more kids?
Caolo
Absolutely, yes. We—my son founded a children’s water safety organization, and whenever he has the opportunity—need be[sic]—he sends the video to help when there’s been a problem somewhere in, uh, another state. He sends a letter and the video to have them, uh, help with that. Yes, I think it’s expanded a lot.s
Ford
So out of those thousands of children that you taught, do you stay in regular contact with a lot of them?
Caolo
Absolutely, yes.
Ford
Like who?
Caolo
Like who?
Ford
Mmhmm.
Caolo
Well, one little boy—the—Brady Sapp. He was one year old when his mother brought him, and he swam the length of the pool before he was two years old and the pool’s the—the long pool. Well, Brady, he will—every year, I have a joint birthday party and have a lot of my friends, and Brady will be there. He’s now over 30 years old—maybe 35, and he will be at the party with his children and grandchildren, and, uh, his mother brought him every year, until he was five years old, when they started going to kindergarten. They would come here until five and then they’d go off to kindergarten, and by then, they were such good swimmers, they’d either need to go to competition or just more swimming, and, um—but Brady will be here and his own children will be there too. Their mother is very good at teaching, ‘cause she spent so much time here watching and helping me with the books. I never charged anything. Only enough to pay for the electric bill and the chlorine expenses. I didn’t even like charging even then, but you have to charge to continue what you’re doin’.
Ford
Hm, so, if you could tell me only one time in your experience as a swimming instructor, what would be that story?
Caolo
Oh, my. Well, I’m afraid I…
Ford
How about any several stories? Anything that like—that really stick out in your mind that you really want to convey?
Caolo
Hm, well, lemme see. When it comes to the—the children, I guess the things that stick out in my mind is Brady, for one. To know that it’s possible to swim that well—which is a 38- foot pool—uh, at two years old—before he was two, and then later on, before he was three years old, he swam underwater the length of the pool. He’s just one little child that I remember, and I also told you about the little girl who came that was terrified to get her eyes wet, and she came, after listening to—watching the video for two weeks. Her parents and grandparents brought her, and before her hour was up, she had—this three year old—had swum the entire length of the pool just exactly like she learned on Miss Jackie’s video.
Ford
Well, Miss Jackie, is there anything else you’d like to add to our interview, before we wrap things up?
Caolo
Well, anytime you can use the video to help other people, um, it would just be—would make me feel real good, and, um, I would do it all over again. I have a little bit of sun damage, but other than that, [laughs] it’s, uh, been very exciting.
Ford
Do you—I know you’re very proud of your accomplishments and—and such around the area. Um, are you proud of the children that you got to teach, both African-American and white?
Caolo
Absolutely, absolutely. I learned to understand people a little better than I did before, and I always admired the people that went out of their way to put all kids and their neighbors in the car and bring ‘em over here. I gave ‘em credit for wanting their children to learn to swim, and I think I told you—Jeff Blake, who came as a two year old—when he grew up, he went to meetings with me to build a new swimming pool, and, uh, that’s—the result of that was that well’re[sic] building that wonderful pool, which is being used constantly at Seminole High School for the young people. Of course, I think that all the children should know how to swim before they graduate high school, and in some states, that’s the case, but not in Florida, but, uh, they do their best to teach as many as they possibly can, and now Jeff’s son—he’s now retired as a football player and his son is one of the big players today. So…
Ford
Um [clears throat], you were telling me a story about Jeff Blake’s family earlier that was really, really interesting. Would you like saying that—would you like telling that story again?
Caolo
Well, yes. Um, when Jeff Blake was a baby, his family would take him out to Wekiva Springs for some—there’s a little place where you can stand in the sand and you can play, but his aunt stepped off the ledge, and was in the process of drowning, when her sister, who was Jeff Blake’s mother, jumped out there to save her and threw her back to safety, and everybody was so happy to see her and so intent on watching her, they failed to look around and realize that Jeff’s mother was in trouble, and she did drown that day at Wekiva Springs, which was a terrible, sad day, and then, um—so the father brought Jeff as a baby for swimming and we’ve been friends ever since.
Ford
Mmhmm. Uh, one final question and then we’ll—we’ll go ahead and stop the interview, but what were some of the factors that made you decide that you were going to go ahead and teach African-American children how to swim? Like because—what were some of the…
Caolo
Well, there was never any decision to be made about it, but being Navy, of course, I was accustomed to swimming. Uh—they were always permitted in the Navy base pools, but, um, I realized they didn’t have the opportunity. That’s the reason they couldn’t swim. Their grand—their mothers would tell them, “Don’t you dare go near that water. I’ll spank you good.” So they were always, uh, told to be frightened of the water. So when they came and found out how much fun it was and how fast they—and they—they can learn absolutely, one child against the other.
In the video, you’ll see. There’s, um, some black children in the video that dived off the diving board, but what’s so amusing to me about that is those two were older children. They had never dived off the diving board, because they were gonna be on film. They wanted to get up there to [laughs]—and they just got on the end of that diving board and stuck their heads down and fell into the water [laughs]. It didn’t bother ‘em, because they knew they were gonna be saved. I have the reaching pole, which is—every swimming pool should have a reaching pole that you can reach out and pull them in and teach them how to do that. So I have to laugh every time I see that video and see those children. I’ve forgotten their names, but I knew them well at the time. ‘Course, they’re all grown up now.
Ford
All right. Well, Miss Jackie, I’d like to thank you for myself and on behalf of the Public History Center for granting us this interview. Thank you so much for your time.
Caolo
You’re so welcome. Thank you so much.
Ford
Thank you, ma’am.
[1] Academy Award.
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.
Youngers
Today is December 10, 2010. My name is Stephanie Youngers and we’re here at the Museum of Seminole County History doing an interview with Mrs. [Mary] Carolyn Bistline. How are you, Mrs. Bistline?
Bistline
I’m fine. Thank you.
Youngers
And if you’d like to start with where and when you were born?
Bistline
Oh. It asks my name—I have your little paper here, and I’m seeing that it says your name, and I usually mention to some people when it’s important and necessary for the record that my first name is Mary, but I’ve never gone by that name. My middle name’s Carolyn and that is how I’ve always been recognized. My birthday is three days before Christmas, and so there were carolers outside when I was born, and that’s why my mother decided on Carolyn.
Youngers
Very nice.
Bistline
And that was in 1928. In the Dark Ages. I was born in Memphis, Tennessee. My dad had little desire for farm life, and they were living in the Carolinas. But he was good at mechanics, and so he took a chance to move from South Carolina—before I was born to Memphis—with an offer for a job where he got on a newspaper. However, the job didn’t last all that long, and so we moved back to the farm when I was about four, I think. And my little brother came along. That was in Clemson, which is formally called Central[, South Carolina]. I don’t think they call it that anymore, but that was the little town on the side of the road. And then we moved to Miami when he was about a year old, which I think was 1936. I’m not sure of my brother’s age precisely.
Bistline
So, I essentially grew up in Miami, which was just starting to boom. We thought it was a big city. We went there, but it wasn’t as big then as it came to be as I grew up. In our little neighborhood—or our community—we were happy and knew all our neighbors. No worries about crime. I went to Santa Clare[sic][1] Elementary and Robert E. Lee Junior High School and rode my bike and we loved going to the beach and the skating rink, etcetera. But in starting high school, I decided to attend Miami Senior High [School], which was not the nearest school to our home. This meant I had to ride the bus downtown, and then take another bus across town. And the bus stop was several blocks from my home. So, I had to go early every day to make it there, but I loved the school. I was in the chorus and several clubs, and very active at Miami Senior High School. Now they have several Miami high schools, among others. I don’t know if you’ve ever been to Miami…
Youngers
I have.
Bistline
You have. Well, there’s more than one. This is the northeast section of Miami where I went. And I lived in northwest.
Youngers
Oh, goodness.
Bistline
But the Andrew Jackson [High School] was nearest to me, and I didn’t want to go there. As it turns out, my brother ended up going to [Miami] Edison [Senior High School], which was not too far away, and we were bitter rivals. So we played football, we were both on each side, even in the band. I visited, when I was in high school, a military high school in Atlanta[, Georgia], because I was dating a young student there—a young man that I had gotten acquainted with at church. And I really enjoyed going there, because I got to see a real military-type formation. They did all the things. They did first—and then the dress parade, and the graduation and the dance afterwards. Of course, there were stipulations how I had to dress. I had to wear a picture hat, which was the big straw hat, you know—it’s called a “picture hat” at that time—with flowers on the crown. And the long gown. I remember again, I was having been raised in Miami, that I was inclined not to wear hosiery, unless I was wearing…
Youngers
That’s because it’s too warm.
Bistline
Well, I had them. But I hadn’t put them on, because I thought that with the long dress, I wouldn’t need them. And so his sister came in to see and check on me, and I was getting dressed, because this was very formal, and she said, you’re not wearing your stockings. And I said, “Do I need them?” She said, “Absolutely, yes.” [laughs] So I really learned that this was military life, and that was the way they were. They were very formal. But I did enjoy it, and I dated him for really several years.
Youngers
And this was when you were in high school?
Bistline
Yes. But everything really began to develop land-wise and population-wise in Miami when World War II started. So there were a lot of servicemen in our church in Downtown Miami. So I dated mostly servicemen. And so it went to where I had been dating steadily with this boyfriend, I went to dating others. Miami became a [inaudible] city. Too big. Too much traffic. And there was an influx of Cubans, and later Haitians. And Miami Beach—having been made of Jewish folks mostly from New York, and etcetera—was taken over, you might say, by servicemen. Navy, Army, Air Force. And South of Miami—Homestead—also became service-occupied. Did you say you had been to Miami, or you had been…
Youngers
Yes.
Bistline
You know something about it?
Youngers
I’ve been to Biscayne Bay. I’ve been to Coconut Grove. Been to various places down there.
Bistline
My brother lives in Coral Gables. He’s an attorney, and now in the process of semi-retirement. A liaison, you might say, or mediator, in the circuit courts and so on. Just something to do. He’s really not handling, but he used to handle civil cases and had to learn Spanish while he was along the way. He drove downtown from the Gables every day, and then when he got to Flagler, he would drive up into the parking garage and park it and then go upstairs and cross Flagler to his office in the federal building. And when he was through with his day at work, he’d come back across—three or four stories up over Flagler—the walkway, and then get in the car and in the garage and drive back to Coral Gables.
Youngers
Right. Wow.
Bistline
Because he avoided downtown anymore. But when we were little, we went downtown to church, we’d get our shopping downtown and everything. We weren’t cautious or worried about it.
But in 1946, I graduated, and then I went to Florida Southern College in Lakeland, Florida. And it’s a lovely, quiet, small town, which I liked. And I met Fred [Bistline] and dated him for a year. We married in 1949, after he graduated. We lived off-campus for a year since I had one more year of college. And I graduated in 1950, in the spring, already expecting. And in September of 1950, our first child was born in Lakeland.
In December of 1950, we moved to Longwood, because Fred had a chance to get on with Minute Maid Corporation, and he was into citrus. He was one of the first ones to go into citrus school there on campus. And so we’ve lived there ever since—here, in other words, where we live now—for 59 years in the same house, ever since. We actually stayed in a little guest cottage before we could build on their property, the Bistlines.
I started teaching in the old Lyman School, which is[sic] of course been torn down, and that was the school that Fred attended all 12 years. He played football there. He grew up in that school, because that was first [grade] through 12th [grade] at that time.
And I taught second grade. And during my high school year, I had worked as a clerk in a 10-cent store, as we used to call it—Woolworth’s in Downtown Miami, as a file clerk in a furniture store—my uncle’s—and I also worked one summer in the office at the church in Downtown Miami. And I also did a lot of babysitting. But when I went to college, I decided to be a teacher. I had always thought I wanted to do that. So I received a degree in Elementary Education and Early Childhood [Education], and that was a very, very hard year—my first year of teaching. And it was a very extremely hard time for me. But I’m glad I stayed with it, because I became a teacher and have been for all these years.
Youngers
And you stayed at Lyman for the whole time?
Bistline
No, I taught one year at Lyman and I had a downstairs basement room, really, with stairs to climb to come and go. And I had a young boy who was paralyzed from the waist down, and I had to get him up under his armpits and lift him and drag him up those stairs to get him to the top level and put him in a little chair with casters on it—because he was paralyzed—and take him to the bathroom down the hall. And of course, I would always not quite make it in time, and then all high school boys would be in there between classes, and they’d say, “Mrs. Bistline, get out of the boy’s bathroom.” And I’d say, “I’m sorry, but I’m here because I have to get this little guy in and out. “And I’d try to go between classes, but I couldn’t always make it, so—but I remember how Chucky was so dearly loved by all of our other students, because they could take him in the wagon, and they could pull him—we had an outside door to the playground, and he would bring his cowboy hat and guns, and pretend he was a cowboy. And they would pull him around, and take turns. Just loved to be able to be the one to take Chucky for a ride. We really adored him.
Youngers
Where did you go after Lyman?
Bistline
After I left Lyman—I’ll get into that a little bit later. I went to stay at home for a while and had another child, a little girl. And at that time, it was really—I felt—in my best interest not to put my children in a school, or in a place where, anyway…
Youngers
Childcare.
Bistline
Mm-hmm. Childcare. I didn’t think they were really well set-up. I didn’t really like them an awful lot, so I stayed home as much as I could with them—my children—when they were born to when they were about of age to go to preschool.
Bistline
Now you asked, there’s a question here about your family history. And I don’t know how I got onto that, because I wanted to try to go by your questions. And I see it there—number three—on the page…
Youngers
Oh, it’s fine.
Bistline
Oh, I’m trying to keep my head on by writing this all down, because I’m not good at remembering things. Anyway, number 10 says—my family history. And so I wrote down some things, which I’ve just told you and Kim [Nelson] about a few minutes ago before we started officially here. I’m trying to have it researched now, and a lady and I—a local historic society is doing genealogies. But when she did mine, she traced names and birth dates only, back to the 1700s, which was interesting, but I’m curious about the occupations they had, and the birthplaces, some of which she did find. So I’m going to have to find someone who will delve further back, maybe, and find out what the people did, their jobs.
And then one of the next questions on your list—“Do you know any stories about how your family first came to Seminole County?” Well, that would be my husband—and I’ll tell a little bit about him—my husband Fred and his mother Adeline Alvina Niemeyer, were born in Longwood. So my husband’s brother John [Bistline, Jr.] —whom you’ve met, I’m sure—was born in Longwood. And he has studied the Bistline side of our family background with a lot of help from several cousins—Bistlines in Pennsylvania—who really came up with a lot of information. Fred’s father, Mr. John Aaron Bistline, from Pennsylvania, came to Longwood in answer to an ad from the founding father of Longwood to get a job. He started working with Mr. Niemeyer, who had a general store, and eventually married his daughter, Adeline. That was Fred’s mother. Mr. Frederick Niemeyer had married as Ms. Clouser, who was related to the master carpenter, Clouser, who was hired by Mr. Hink to build the hotel, and most of the houses in Longwood, the chapel in Altamonte [Springs], among others. We now own the Clouser cottage [Josiah Clouser House], and hope to keep it in the family in Longwood. Mr. Bistline, Fred’s father, grew orange trees, had quite a large acreage, and raised squabs, which were specialty birds for eating in hotels. Have you ever heard of squabs?
Youngers
I haven’t ever heard of a squab.
Bistline
Okay. It’s a baby pigeon, is what it really is. That’s what it’s called—a squab. I don’t really know how it’s derived. But they would take care of them by wringing their necks—I guess it was—like we do chickens sometimes, and they would pack them in ice, and ship them north each week by train from Winter Park.
Youngers
Oh!
Bistline
So my husband would get up early hours in the morning and help his father, because they had to pick them and ship them as soon as they did to keep them fresh, and they had to be a certain age, and a certain size. If they got too big, they became very tough, and so people don’t usually eat pigeon. But squabs are different. They’re very tender if you get them at a young age. And it was—that day also would have them in the hotels here that he raised and started his business. Then he got started and shipping them north, and so they would take them in a wagon, pack them in ice box, crates, and take them in the wagon to Winter Park and have them shipped out once a week.
So, another thing about Mr. Bistline—J. A. Bistline, Sr. —is that he started raising prize poultry as a hobby. And he became immersed in communicating with other men doing the same thing all over the world. And he won all sorts of awards, trophies, and prizes. Raised excellent expertise in raising silver-laced Wyandottes. [2] And these are beautiful, big, very regal-looking birds. Usually the roosters—the cocks, as they call them—with the large red cockade on their heads, and stripes along the sides. Feathers which might look lacey. They were in little rows, like on their feathers. I have pictures. And a lot of trophies. And some of these awards and letters from different countries—men soliciting information about Mr. Bistline about how he raised this beautiful poultry, because he won so many prizes and so many trophies and awards. And that’s a funny kind of an occupation to have, but it was a hobby, really, because he had the orange trees and the squab farm. We had over two thousand birds in that squab farm at one time. And so that was quite a job for Mr. Bistline and for Fred. John didn’t help very much there, John was always helping his mother.
So, anyway, Mr. Bistline was also very community-oriented, and he was on the town council in Longwood for at least, I think, 20 years. I’m not sure. He was active in church choir—an elder, a Sunday school teacher. He played trombone in a band. Now, I have a picture of him on the stage at our building—the City League Building, we called it—in Longwood. And he was on the Seminole County School Board for 19 years.
Mrs. Bisltine—or Addy, as she was called—went to Rollins [College], and she played piano. I have a picture of her doing a concert. And she played piano and sang in the choir, and she was a charter member of the Woman’s Club [of Longwood] and officer most every year—some sort of officer. And her mother was the same way, Frances Niemeyer. So it was accepted that when I married Fred and came there with him to live that I become a member of the Woman’s Club immediately, and be active in the church.
Now, it mentions on your list my background and my parents. My father was the newspaperman. And he inspired—he was probably inspired—I mean, possibly by his rich Uncle Vernon. We have a book on him. He was in the Midwest as an editor of a newspaper. But my dad’s mother had died when my dad was born, as was his twin brother. He died also. And since he had another older brother and four sisters, his father sent him as a tiny infant to live with Aunt Fannie. Doesn’t everybody always have an Aunt Fannie? In Pelzer, South Carolina. And so he told me some stories about how she carried him around on a pillow, because he was so tiny, and she nursed him to health and kept him there till he was almost nine. By the age of nine, he was on his own, I was told.
Youngers
Wow.
Bistline
Somehow, he worked on farms and moved about, and received minimum education. But then he met my mother, Hettie Catherine Hollis, in Central—or Clemson—South Carolina. And they married, and he went back to the farm business again, and they lived there on the farm. My mother went to Furman University, and studied business. And when my brother was born, I was ecstatic, because I hadn’t been told before. So when the doctor drove in under his [Ford] Model T, and saw my playing under the giant walnut tree, and he told me he brought me something in a little black bag, and I would get to see it later.
Youngers
That’s a good story.
Bistline
I loved my little brother. And I tried to help my mother to look after him. I remember when we built a house in Miami, after renting for a while, there were beds of scorpions in the palmettos when my dad started the dig the foundation—the coral rock, which is solid down there. He, being from South Carolina—or actually, he was born in Georgia—was not familiar with the conditions, and he was stung many times by the red ants and insects, scorpions and all, and finally decided that the rock was the foundation, because he couldn’t remove it with a pickaxe. When we got the walls up and the roof on, we moved in with the spiders and the snakes as well, and one night, my little brother stepped on a scorpion and it stung him, and being about a year old maybe, he didn’t know what was happening, and he just kept stepping up and down on that scorpion. These bugs—the scorpions—were very large, not tiny. Sometimes, we see them around here in Central Florida, but they’re very small, and very seldom do we see them. But these are large, large ones. Many two to three inches long, and had a lot of venom. His feet were swollen for weeks and we kept putting ice on them and carrying him around for long time, but he finally got well—survived.
So, as we developed a neighborhood there, we were fortunate ultimately in having a very nice home. Improved on our home a great deal, and my dad built additions on, and it became a nice building. We had great childhoods—my brother and I. Sometimes we did have a slight problem, because my father’s brother divorced and brought his four children to live with us at once time. And that was pretty hard. His youngest daughter was three months older than I was and she and I got along pretty well most of the time. But we were more like sisters I think in that we would fight occasionally. We love each other now to death. We have a lot memories, and nice memories. And he finally moved out and took one of the children with him. Anyway, we basically grew up together there for several years down home.
And then I went to summer camp at Florida Southern and that’s when I decided I wanted to go to college. So I’m backtracking a little bit here, because I mentioned it earlier.
Youngers
That’s okay.
Bistline
I entered as a freshman and joined a sorority right away—Alpha Delta Pi—and I enjoyed campus life and dated a lot. But because my uncle divorced and went to Miami with three children to live with my parents, I just decided to work part-time in the college library to help with my college tuition, and I learned a lot with that.
Youngers
Oh, okay.
Bistline
Learned a lot about library books and how to catalog them. I had a little old lady who was probably 90 [years old], who was very, very strict. And she would make me look at those numbers until I was blue in the face, and so tired of trying to type them and keep the numbers straight. And I wasn’t a good typist. I would almost cry. I would get so tired of it. Finally, I got to be on the floor and handle books and see people, because I like people.
Okay. Next question. “How has it changed over the years?” Well, I don’t know where that goes. I have number six there. I’ll just go with what I have in my notes here.
One day, while standing in line at the campus cafeteria, I was chatting with friends, one of whom was talking to her boyfriend—she was the campus homecoming queen. And she introduced us. And he in turn introduced us to his roommate, and that was Fred. He and the roommate lived off-campus working part-time in a science lab, located on the grounds there, while attending school on the GI Bill [Servicemen's Readjustment Act of 1944]. They both were from Longwood. Charlie Stum was his roommate, famously know in Longwood for Stum’s Corner, where they used to live. She was not a very nice woman—his mother. Charlie’s now in Polk County and on the staff at the university there—the college there.
So, I had never heard of Longwood. And we chatted a while, and when my friend and I left, I felt something pulling me on my ribbon sash from behind. And I guess it was tied in the back. Anyway, he was trying to catch up with us, so he pulled on that, and I realized—I looked around and caught him trying to catch up, and looked at him kind of funny, and he thought that was funny. So anyway, we laughed and we stopped to talk and then he asked me out. Our first date was to attend a play in town called Everyman, and dinner later at the town cafeteria. That was a big deal in Lakeland, because that was all they had then.
Now, trying to get to the family here. Your question is, “Does your family have any heirlooms or keepsakes?” When Fred’s mother passed away, I was given permission, along with John’s wife [Mary Bistline], to share some of her jewelry—his mother’s—and porcelain figurines and dishes, photo albums, which I really treasure. And silverware and other stuff. So I was very glad to share and still have most of that. That was some time ago when she died.
Now, number 19—question is, “What kind of local events and gatherings were there?”
Youngers
In Longwood.
Bistline
We were active in the Central Florida Society for Historic Preservation. We were charter members. And Fred was the very first treasurer, and then a trustee. And I was a docent, as well as a secretary and head of several different committees. We were active in our church, also. He was Superintendent of Sunday Schools, and I was a Sunday school teacher. Eventually, we were both ordained as elders. We were active in [Boy] Scouts [of America]. Fred had been a scout as a boy. I was a Cub Scout mother and leader of the Cub pack, also leader of the Brownie Scouts and Cadets, which I think now are called “Intermediates.” I think that’s what they’re called, anyway. Fred was a member of the Indian Guides. He was one of the dads, and he was a timekeeper at swim meets. Our second son got a scholarship from swimming. He followed through. He was very good at swimming. So we were both workers with the booster club at Lyman High School, where Fred went. And I was—for a short time, I was a helper with A[lpha] D[elta] Pi at UCF[University of Central Florida], which at that time was called FTU—Florida Technological University. I was always active in educator’s associations. President one year of Seminole County for Children Under Six—now, that’s not quite right. I’m sure it’s Seminole County Association for Children Under Six, which ultimately became part of the 4C [Community Coordinated Care for Children, Inc.] program now in existence, and I helped start that. I enjoyed that.
Youngers
When did you all start the Central Florida Society for Historic Preservation?
Bistline
In ‘73, I think it was. And the reason for that being that we wanted to move this house that was up for grabs for the fire department to use…
Youngers
The Bradlee-McIntyre House?
Bistline
And so, it was either ‘73, ‘75? No, I think it was ‘73 that we moved the house. I’m not really sure. It was right in there, that we moved the Bradlee-Mac house from Altamonte Springs to Longwood, and we also got the inside house while we were at it. We had to chip in, of course, a lot of our own money, and the move was quite large. Can’t remember his name—the man who did it—but it was quite an effort because, of course, because the Bradlee-Mac being three stories—Queen Anne. It was in terrible, terrible shape. I didn’t think to bring any pictures to show you today, but I do have pictures of how it looked before we moved it.
Youngers
I think I’ve seen some pictures of it.
Bistline
Okay.
Youngers
And it was in very bad shape.
Bistline
There was a man who lived in there, Bill Orr—he’s an artist. And I have pictures here where he had his—I don’t know if it’s a kerosene stove or not—but he had a pot sitting on it. Anyway, there were some pictures on the wall of the Beatles, or something like that. And you don’t really recognize or realize that’s the Bradlee-Mac house the way it looks now. You don’t realize until you find a few doorways and windows and things that you recognize. It comes to you that that’s the way it looked when it was going down. And after the move, we had to have power lines removed, or taken down. And a lot of trees had to be cut back, and a lot of hours spent on the road trying to move it. And there was just a small group of us, but we got it done. Of course, we were in the red for a lot of years afterwards, but we finally got ourselves in black.
Fred was a member of the Board of the [Florida] Farm Bureau for over 40 years, because he’s into citrus. And he was with Minute Maid, and they later became connected to Coca-Cola—part of Coca-Cola. And he had been, more recently, traveling a lot and helping out Coca-Cola to look for properties suitable for orange trees. We went to China twice. We went to Africa a couple of times. And I got to go with him to some countries, because Coca-Cola was interested not only the cocoa part of it, but they were also at that time selling coffee. And so I went to Jamaica with him a time or two, and Mexico several times. So I got to travel too some in between raising children.
Youngers
Now was Minute Maid—was it located in Longwood?
Bistline
No. It was actually Orlando. It was a place called Fairvilla, which is still there. And he had an office there for a while, and then they moved to Plymouth—oh, I think they really were Plymouth first. I think that’s backwards. I think they were Plymouth first, and they had a packing plant over there and everything. And that was a little drive, but it was only 20 minutes then.
Youngers
Right.
Bistline
Now it takes at least half hour or more.
Youngers
So it’s really a commute.
Bistline
Yeah. And he worked over there for a lot of years, and then they moved to Fairvilla and then opened more plants and opened more, not necessarily more packing houses, but more plants. Concentrate was coming in then. That was real important then. And he helped to start that, had to help get the vats in and all that that they required for that.
Youngers
Mm-hmm.
Bistline
So, he was instrumental in the beginning of orange juice as we see it now, and concentrate, and then since then, fresh orange juice. It was almost, at that time, impossible to find. Then he became a kind of troubleshooter and consultant.
Then I was president of the Woman’s Club for a couple of years, and instrumental in setting up the old-timer’s reunion once a year. This was a get-together of all the old-timers in Longwood, which we all loved. That was discontinued when the Woman’s Club disbanded. It was no feather in my cap that we had to give up, but we had dwindling numbers—membership—and most of the ladies were not able to drive or get out without help. And we’re getting up in years. We were just to the point where we couldn’t seem to get younger people in. They were busy working. We finally disbanded and we gave the building to the historic group in Longwood—Central Florida Society for Historic Preservation—with the provision that the building would eventually become a museum. It hasn’t happened yet.
Youngers
And is that the Bradlee-Mac House?
Bistline
No. It’s the City League Building. And it was the former Woman’s Club building, and we gave it away. Kind of regret that, sort of. But if we had tried to sell it, we didn’t know how we would divide the money, or what we would do. Where it would go. And there were so few members left that we didn’t seem to think that seemed fair. So I suggested we give it to the historic society, which we did, but it was with the provision that it become a museum. Now, we’re putting some things in there. We have a museum committee, of which I am a member and John is the president—my brother-in-law. We’re trying to get a museum set up and started. We’ve got some bulletin boards up and things, but they’re renting the building out now to society, because they did a whole lot of renovations. It was in pretty bad shape. So they spent a lot of money on it. So now they’re trying to make up that money that they spent by having people come in for weddings, and such as that. Bar-mitzvahs, other things. They do raise money, anyway.
So right now, we’re not having much luck on getting—we don’t want to really put anything in there of any value, museum-wise, anyway. So we’re collecting a few things, but we’re basically just trying to do the bookwork that goes with it, and collect some information on people who helped start Longwood. And we’re putting together a little book, we’re calling it Footprints. And we’re trying to get some information together. And some, you might say—the basics, just right now, and hopefully we’ll someday have a museum in Longwood. I don’t know if it’ll happen before I’m gone, but we’re trying.
Fred and I have also been active in the Seminole County Historic[al] Society—charter members there also. And I’ve been Recording Secretary at one time as well as Chairman of the Student Tours. Now, that goes with the society—the local group, the tours. CFSHP, which is Central Florida Society for Historic Preservation. I initiated tours—student tours—by visiting approximately 55 schools in the county, one by one, and introducing the history of the Longwood area for them, and setting up field trips by bus, through a grant. We had to work hard to get the grant. We’ve had as many as four days a week sometimes touring students through the town and/or the Bradlee-McIntyre House museum. It was I who introduced John and Mary [Bistline]—Fred’s brother—to the local group after he retired from New York, and they moved back to Florida and they became very active. I was raising four kids and teaching school, so I became less active for a while, and I’m again more active now since I retired from teachers. This getting too long?
Youngers
Nope.
Bistline
I’m proud to say that—now, number 21, you asked how historical events affected your family—community. Proud to say that we in Longwood were included in the Bicentennial Parade. The governors came through Florida in 1976. And I have some snapshots of a similar celebration in—I’m not sure if it was 1880—but Ulysses [S.] Grant came to visit, just for a day, in Longwood. His name is on the book at the hotel. We’re also proud of the Clouser heritage, hence the Niemeyers, and then the Bistlines, and pioneering the oldest city in Seminole County. The Clouser House has been acknowledged with a small plaque, and we had a little celebration at the City Hall, then Mayor Paul Lovestrand and other dignitaries—and our now-grown children, our four children have greater respect than when they were young, and appreciate the history of Longwood now. We put out a book, so we have some recognition, when we have our book on. And that’s our family on the front cover, the Niemeyers.
Number 23 is, “Is there anything you’d like to discuss?” I just going to say—I’ve always wanted to have my own private kindergarten, so my husband agreed after some rentals we had were vacated, and he was tired of being a landlord anyway. So with some renovations to three small homes, we opened a school. We connected them all together, three little houses in a row, and we called it Oak Tree [Pre]School, because we have what is probably the largest tree, the live oak, anyway, in Seminole County.
Youngers
Oh!
Bistline
It’s supposed to be between 400 and 500 years old, according to a forester who came out in ‘88, and I’m trying to have that checked out now, because it’s been so long, I think it may have grown a little, and there was an article in the newspaper in The Orlando Sentinel, fairly recently, about a large live oak in Lake County, and according to the writer, there’s nobody in Seminole County who pushed through like they did there in the town council who worked on getting this tree recognized with some kind, you know…
Youngers
Oh, to protect it. Yes, mm-hmm.
Bistline
I called the writer—The Sentinel writer—to ask him and he talked with me and suggested names, one of which is a lady who works for the forestry service. And she’ll come out and measure for me which is the other one did, when I had this—but I had gotten the children out there and talked about the tree, and then they helped him measure. And they enjoyed that and they had a little—they gave me a plaque. And around that time—it must have been already. So I want to bring this back to attention in our little town of Longwood, and because it’s in our backyard. It’s not something you just invite the whole town to, but I do want them to know that they can come and see it, and be ready to mention it to anybody who’s interested in trees. And so I’m going to look forward to her coming. She’s coming after Christmas sometime to measure, and she said, by the way it sounds—with my measurements that I gave her—it sounds like it is one of the largest oak trees in the state.
Youngers
Wow.
Bistline
At least in the county, anyway. So we hope to have that recognized soon. And anyway, since I’ve been teaching in Seminole County for about eight or 10 years in public school at that time, I was disenchanted with all the paperwork, so I enjoyed revising the joining of these houses into one building, and making up the playground, etcetera. And I had that school for 11 years, we call it the Oak Tree Preschool. Well, actually, it came to be kindergarten. That’s my love, that’s my Early Childhood degree. But I had it for 11 years, but I gave it up after that, because even though I loved it very much, nobody wanted to pay tuition. They wanted to bring the children, but they didn’t want to pay. So it was just like—they thought it should be free, and I just let it go too long. I am a dedicated teacher, but I’m not a businessperson. So, I really let it go, and there were a lot of disappointed parents that we put a lot of money into, and we finally had to give up on that.
Now, I was just wondering—when you ask if there’s anything else I would like to discuss, I realize I must not forget to mention our children, of which I am very proud. Walter Bistline, Jr. was born September 30, 1950, in Lakeland, and he’s now an attorney with several large law firms. But he’s been semi-retired and he was in New York City, where he got his law degree, and he went with White & Case. Then he moved to Dallas[,Texas], and opened and branch there, and later he went to Houston[,Texas], and opened a branch there, and now they live in Richmond, Indiana, and that’s because he found it on the computer—they have a photography studio there like, that he can go to there, because that’s his hobby. And so he’s on the faculty teaching photography and he judges shows, and they just came back from Turkey. Brought me this back from Turkey.
Youngers
Oh, very nice, yes.
Bistline
Did you know that tulips were grown originally in Turkey?
Youngers
I did not know that.
Bistline
All of us all think of Amsterdam[, the Netherlands] as the base for tulips.
Youngers
Very pretty.
Bistline
He and his wife bought that for me—a pendant with the tulip on it. And they’ve travelled, not only just to Turkey. They took a group of students there, and they stayed in England this time three months, but they were only in Turkey for a couple of weeks. But they do take students, say, a group like 25 students and sponsor them included. Well, they get sponsors, but they get help. This time, they got a flat to stay in in England—that was last summer. He’s travelled a lot. He’s been to China, he’s been around quite a lot in different places. Travels a lot. She’s also a lawyer.
And then Frances [Bistline], our daughter, was born June 23, ‘53 in Sanford. And she has become an environmentalist and a magazine writer, and lately she’s been teaching school. She met Paul—her husband, Paul Stephen—at a church summer trip and went to Florida State University, lived in a co-op dorm, and then they married after graduation and moved to Naples[, Florida]. They lived there about 20 years. He’s a Clearwater guy, and he loves the water, so they did a lot of surfing, fishing, boating. You name it. And now they have moved to California, which I’m very sorry that they’ve done, but he’s looking for a new job, so they went out there.
Youngers
Oh, wow. That’s far away.
Bistline
Our next one was John Leland [Bistline], named after my husband’s brother and my brother. He’s a doctor of psychology, and he’s now working with insurance company. His wife is very, very sickly, so he has to stay home. Has his office there. He wrote a book. He met Kathy [Bistline] at Richmond University, at which time she was very, very into sports, and very strong. But she’s become ill with arthritis really bad now. They’re married in Virginia. Living there now. He’s really looking after Kathy himself. He’s her caregiver.
Youngers
And when was he born?
Bistline
He was born in 1955 in Sanford. And at that time—I have a picture of that old house that was the hospital in Sanford where they were born, he and Francie, and of course, it’s terrible, in bad shape. And when he was born, I had apparently just come out of a sleep afterwards, and they were going to bring him in, and they said they’d bring the babies in a few minutes. And all of a sudden, this rumble-rumble-rumble sound. And I said, “What in the world happened? My bed’s shaking.” And she said, “Oh, that’s just the elevator.”
Youngers
Oh, my goodness. [laughs]
Bistline
And it turned out my bed was near the elevator shaft. Whenever anybody went up or down on the elevator, it made my bed shake.
Youngers
Oh, I bet you couldn’t wait to get home.
Bistline
That’s exactly right. And then they brought him in and he was nine pounds and a half ounce and since you have a football player, I said, “That’s not mine.” Because Walter was only seven pounds and four and three quarters ounces, but they said, “Yes, this is yours.” So he’s a handsome young man and a big guy. He played football at Lyman, and as I say, they’re living there now. He’s in Richmond, Virginia, and Walter’s in Richmond, Indiana. Strange consequence.
Jane [Bistline], our baby, was born in ‘65, December 4, 1965. And she went to Florida Southern College, where we went. And she was homecoming queen in high school. She’s a fitness instructor at the YMCA [Young Men’s Christian Association] now, and she does personal fitness in the home. She married Keith Reardon and they have three children. Two are twin boys—Keegan and Kamden. They’re now six, and Khloe is age nine. They all start with K’s. All of my four children attended Lyman High School, just as their dad had. And I have five grandchildren altogether. I lost Fred about a year ago, but I stayed busy and I have an active life. I meant to mention my granddaughters, Katie and Addie, now in their twenties. They don’t have any children yet.
And one other little addition, I forgot to explain my teaching job sort of. I didn’t really go into that very much. But I did mention the old Lyman, when I had the base…
Youngers
Basement classroom?
Bistline
Yes. Thank you. [laughs] That was first through 12th grades, but then they started building new schools, so I went home and waited. I was inclined—I kept taking leaves to have family, and I taught one year at the old Lake Mary Elementary, which is also now gone. It was about 1957, I think it was. Then I taught at Altamonte Elementary for a lot of years—I figured, around 1966, but I’m not going to be able to remember it for sure—until I opened my private school in 1985. And had that for 11 years, and then I decided to retire. I don’t think I taught after that. I may have gone back to public school. I don’t remember.
But anyway, I now serve on the Seminole County Historic Commission, and the Board of the Seminole County Historic Society, which I enjoy. And I’m interested in history, even though I hated it when I was in high school. That’s it.
Youngers
Is that all you have?
Bistline
That’s all I have.
Youngers
Alright, well thank you so much, Mrs. Bistline.
Bistline
Thank you for being patient with me.
Youngers
Absolutely.
Bistline
I was writing things and realizing how long I was writing and how much I was writing. And I thought, This is terrible. [laughs]
Youngers
Oh, it’s fine.
Cravero
Today’s Thursday, July 30, 2015. My name’s Geoff Cravero. I’m speaking with Mick Dolan at the Salem Media Group radio stations in Altamonte Springs, Florida. Thanks for speaking with me today, Mick.
Dolan
No problem.
Cravero
Uh, let’s just begin I guess with a little of your biography. Could you, uh, tell us a little about where you’re from originally and, uh, early kind of bio details?
DolanI was found under a rock…
Cravero
[laughs].
Dolan
About, uh 64 years ago.
Cravero
[laughs].
Dolan
[laughs] Uh, my radio career started in, uh, Topeka, Kansas. I was, uh, at a station there. Then I went to Kansas City[, Missouri], spent a couple years there, and, uh, about five years in Louisville[, Kentucky], but, on July 28, uh, 1980, I came here, uh, and started at [W]DIZ[–FM 100.3]. So uh, 35 years—I’m celebrating my 35th, eh, on the radio here.
Unidentified
[inaudible].
Dolan
Uh, DIZ, uh, was a great radio station. It’s gone now. Uh, then I went on—took a break, got out of the, eh—the business completely, and about three or four years later, uh, somebody—I saw a friend at a—in line at the post office and she goes, “You know what? They’re looking for people over at WLOQ[-FM 107.7], the smooth jazz station.” So I said, “Eh.” I went over there—I actually interviewed for the promotions director job, but, uh, I didn’t get it. The program director says, “Hey, man, we need to get you back on the air here.” So they—they—we did a part-time job for a while. It worked into a full-time job. I was a morning host with another guy, Mark Taylor.
Unidentified
[inaudible].
Dolan
And, uh, then went to the nights, and then the station got sold. So [laughs] I’ve actually killed two radio stations in my career here, but, uh, after that, uh, took another little break and found a job here doing news and traffic now at, uh, the Salem [Salem Media Group] stations: WORL[-AM 660] and WBZW[–AM 1520]. So afternoon drive, man. I’m the news guy and the traffic guy. So, you know, what goes around comes around.
Cravero
[laughs]
Dolan
And, uh…
Unidentified
[inaudible].
Dolan
But, you know what? It—it is always beat working.
Unidentified
[inaudible].
Dolan
I’ve never, uh—you know, I—I never really wanted a real job.
Unidentified
[inaudible].
Dolan
I wanted to do what I liked to do, and isn’t that the whole reason? Uh, I mean, come on. If you can’t like what you’re doing, then what are you—what are you doing? So that’s what I tell people: “Always beats working.”
Unidentified
[inaudible].
Dolan
Let’s close that door.
Cravero
Alright [laughs].
Dolan
That’s awful noise in here.
Cravero
[laughs].
Unidentified
[inaudible].
Dolan
We make a lot of noise here at Salem.
Cravero
[laughs] That’s okay.
[door closes]
Dolan
Most of it’s good.
Cravero
Yeah [laughs].
Dolan
Alright. Should I be looking at there? Or…
Cravero
Oh, no. Just—this works fine.
Dolan
Okay, alright, okay.
Cravero
That’s good. Um, yeah, I guess, uh—let’s see. Tell us a little about the, uh—the Baxter and Mark Show.[1] I noticed you—you sent us some photos of them, and, uh…
Dolan
Unbelievable.
Cravero
I read a little bit about, uh, the shock jock-era kind of thing. Uh…
Dolan
Yeah, that was before your time. Right?
Cravero
[laughs].
Dolan
You young guys—I just don’t—well, uh, they were one of the best morning shows ever, and the thing that they did was they interacted with people. They—they’re not talking to ya. They’re getting ya—they had callers all the time. They were always pulling stunts and pranks and, uh, just [laughs]—just some amazing stuff on the radio, and, uh, unfortunately, uh, because the business is the business, uh, the management, uh, felt that, uh, after a while that they’d outlived, uh, you know, their—their run, and they replaced them with Ron and Ron—another good show—but, just kind of kicking them to the curb after five, six, seven years, that’s—that’s crazy, but, uh, they were not able to carry on the team.
So they split up, and Mark Samansky died back in 2011, uh, and we try to do a, uh, reunion for him. I haven’t been able to do it the last couple of years. Uh, it’s kind of a—it’s a lot of work, but, uh, just in his memory, because he was such as talented guy. I mean, “Dr. Zonas” and, uh, you know, the [laughs]—“Opie Gets Nookie”, all these songs that they did that, uh, just—you—you know, they would take a song—a popular song—and—and, uh—and change it around a little bit and—and make a funny out of it, and, you know, it’s such[?], uh—the wake-up calls were legendary. Uh, they were doing this stuff before anybody else did. So they were—they were true groundbreakers. They really were, and Baxter’s still around. He’s up in, uh, Washington D.C. He’s doing voice work, but, um, you know, he’s the kind of guy who just anything in radio. I mean, he can do the commercials, he’s—he was an operations guy. Uh, he was really the—he sort of kept them on the ground [laughs]. [inaudible]. Samansky was out of his mind, so they worked so well together.
It was a great show, but, uh, long live Baxter and Mark. You can still see them, uh—I can’t think of the—it’s—it’s Baxterradio.com. He’s got a bunch of their old bits. Uh, one of my favorites ev—ever was Mr. Bradley. This was an old black guy that thought he was calling the radio station to win Michael Jackson tickets, and they [laughs]—they turned that poor boy every which way. They recorded the bit and then later would split it, you know, chop it up. They could make him say anything. It was the most unbelievable thing, and they got—I don’t know how many bits they did. It wa—you know, every once in a while Mr. Bradley would call, and, uh, so you know—it just—stuff like that that was just epic. Unbelievable [laughs], but, anyway, we’ve got the memories.
Uh, and, you know, it’s hard to believe that radio station went away—it’ll be 20 years next year. 1996. Uh, Clear Channel bought them, turned them into soft rock, and then they went to Spanish and then, uh—I don’t know. what is it now? I—I don’t know, but, I—I think it’s still Spanish, and—but, uh, it was pretty amazing. That’s the way radio is. Nothing ever stays the same. Well, that’s an—any media it’s like, uh, it’s always changing, and you’ve got to stay one step ahead, and, uh, quite frankly that—that—that’s[sic] has been a problem. I haven’t been able to do that [laughs], but, you know, it’s hard to be a 64 year old disc jockey in rock radio, and, uh, I can—I can still bring a lot to the table, but, it—it is what it is—what it is.
Cravero
When you talked about, uh, you know, Clear Channel in ’96, buying out a lot of the…
Dolan
[inaudible].
Cravero
The radio stations, yeah.
Dolan
104. Uh, that’s—that was—these were all free standing radio stations, ‘cause back then, you could only own an AM and an FM [clears throat]. That was it. Now, I think it’s like seven total, uh, you can own. So you’ve got three companies that dominate the market here: Cox [Media Group], uh, Clear Channel, and, uh inaudible what is it? CBS [Columbia Broadcasting System], I think. I’m not sure. Maybe they call it something else. I have no idea, but those three guys dominate, uh, still, and, you know, it’s what deregulation did. Can’t win them all. Put a lot of good people out of work, I can tell you that, and, uh, is the quality of radio any better? [buzzer noise] I don’t think so. No, no.
I mean what [W]MMO[-FM 98.9] does, what [W]JRR[-FM 101.1] does—they do what they do. That’s good, but it just doesn’t have the soul. It doesn’t have the heart that—that we had back in the day, because those guys are doing a bunch of other jobs. You don’t just do radio. When I was hired back in the day, I—I mean, in my case I was promotions director, too, and—and, uh—so I did that, as well as be on the air, and I was also the production director. I had three jobs there, but really, most people just did one—you were on the air. You did your four hour shift and you were done. It’s like, “Wow.” What a job that is. Not anymore. Now, uh, you gotta pay the piper. So anyway, business has changed. You can’t win them all [laughs].
Cravero
What was the, uh—the Orlando music scene like, uh, when you first came and—and kind of had, you know—how did it evolve?
Dolan
Uh, it—it—it was—it blew up in the ‘80s. I mean, uh, there was a rock club on every corner. Point After [Tom’s Point After], Fern Park Station, Plus 3 Lounge, uh, gosh, the ABC Lounges were doing live music, uh, and I’m, uh—I’m forgetting a bunch of others, but, uh, you know, it was—it was fun. I mean, you could—and it didn’t hurt that I lived like two blocks from Fern Park Station, and my car knew the way home. So I had no problems there, but it was just a fun time. It was kind of an innocent time. It was anything goes. It was back when you could get away with stuff, and—and now you’ve got laws. So uh, it—it was just a really special time and there was—there were booking agents that—oh, my god—Ricky Young and Steve, uh, Brewton— “Brewster” Brewton—uh, these—Steve Peck. These guys—Earl Tennent—these guys made big money booking bands. Now, the clubs don’t want to pay for it. That’s the—that’s the problem. The clubs don’t want to pay for their entertainment. Plus, everybody think he can be a rock star, and so there’s a million bands out there, and there’s some good bands. You’re in a good band.[2] So [laughs] where’s the outlet? How do you guys make money? I should be asking you that.
Cravero
[laughs].
Dolan
Uh, so it—it’s—it was real special, and then I think just a combination of the economy just kind of went another direction and, you know, the deregulation of—of radio, and, uh, I—I think that just—it really hurt, and now, there’s still clubs out there—there’s still—you can still hear a good band, but, they’re not making any money. Uh, it’s too bad, but they’re just not. So…
Cravero
Do you have any, uh—any favorites? Like local bands from the ‘80s, or ‘90s, or…
Dolan
Oh, then there re was the Bobby Friss Band, and Stranger, and Foreign Legion, and, uh, uh—in fact, Stranger Band, uh, they lost a couple of people. They lost their guitar player.[3] He, uh, passed, uh, years ago, and then their drummer, uh, [John] “J.P.” [Price], recently had, uh—he had cancer or something, but—so they’re all getting old and dying, but Greg Billings was in that band. He still has his band, the Greg Billings Band. So—but, those were special bands. Uh, oh, I don’t know. I—I—I can’t—there’s a million of them.
Cravero
[laughs].
Dolan
I can’t remember any of them right now, but, uh, those bands were able to make a living and have a lot of fun. You know, back in—opening up for Van Halen and, you know, things like that. So they were big, uh, but, it’s all gone now. There was a band called Sons of Doctors [laughs]. That was great too. They were a little bit later—late ‘80s—but, uh, Angelo Jannotti, those guys—they’re still around, you know? So, uh, it—it—it was a special time. It really was.
Cravero
What about, um—I read a little about the Rock Super Bowls they did…
Dolan
Oh.
Cravero
At the Citrus Bowl.
Dolan
Epic, epic. Unbelievable. I came from Louisville in 1980, and it was funny, because they—those big stadium shows were just starting back, you know, late ‘70s, early ‘80s, and I had seen, uh, ZZ Top and, uh, Lynyrd Skynyrd, uh, in—in Louisville, and that same show that had Bob Seger, and they came that [clears throat]—that summer. So I—I caught them there too, but those Super Bowl[s], they—they had big name acts, every one of them, and I think that fell victim to the times, as well. The people—the bands, who are big and popular, they want too much money, and—and a show like that, you just couldn’t put it together, uh, like they—they could then. Uh, then, of course, there was The [Rolling] Stones and The Who, and, uh, Stones came back—I did not see that show. I wanted to, but I missed it, and, uh—well, because I had to pay now.
Cravero
[laughs].
Dolan
[laughs] I didn’t have to pay back then, and I ain’t going to pay hundreds of dollars. I’m sorry. I love the band, but uh-uh. I’ve got better things to do with that money. I shouldn’t say that. I probably shot myself in the foot, but that’s alright. It’s only rock and roll. So uh—but those—that was a community thing, man, and the memories, and—and again, what you can get away with. It’s like—it’s crazy. It was all good, and you—you talk to anybody who’s been around a while and you mention Rock Super Bowls, and they’re going to go, “Oh, oh, I remember that one, yeah.” Ted Nugent, uh—it was pretty cool. Very nice, but I don’t think they could pull that off now. You just can’t do that. It would have to be part of a tour, and—and I know there’s tours like that, but—but not in that environment. I mean, it’s just something else, and the—and the Citrus Bowl wasn’t even that big back then. They still put 50,000 in there. So, you know, promoters made a lot of money. Everybody was happy, and the tickets—I don’t know—I—those Super Bowl tickets probably weren’t more than 20 dollars. Oh, my god. How—can you imagine that? You know, those were the days. It is.
Cravero
Yeah, did you, uh, have any interesting, uh, stories about being backstage at any of them?
Dolan
[laughs].
Cravero
[laughs] That you can share.
Dolan
That I can talk about today?
Cravero
[laughs].
Dolan
One of my favorites was, uh, uh, David Lee Roth of Van Halen and—because I got to do an interview with him, and, you know, it—those days it wasn’t, you know, wireless—there wasn’t any of that, but—so I recorded it on a cassette player, and we took a bus over there to see him. It was in Lakeland[, Florida], and, uh—that’s where—that’s where the concerts were—was Lakeland Civic Center. There was no Orlando Arena. There was no Amway Center. There was nothing. So you had to go to Lakeland to see a show, and the same for Tampa. So the—the two converged—the markets converged there, and—and it was kind of cool because backstage you’d see the Tampa radio guys and, you know, it was a kind of a family, but, uh, David Lee Roth was out of his mind. Took over the interview. I mean—I—he was interviewing me. So I had that and I—I played it for the people on the bus back home, uh—on the way back, and it was just epic. Uh, I had a—I’ll tell you the worst interview I ever had was George Thorogood. Guy was a total asshole.
Cravero
[laughs].
Dolan
I’m sorry. He was. Great music. Love the guy.
[cell phone beeps]
Dolan
Couldn’t believe that—that—but, he was obnoxious, he was making fun of radio, he was, you know, uh, dissing on everybody…
[cell phone beeps]
Dolan
And it was like, “What?” You know, “Hey, man, I’m sorry. I’m trying to help you. I’m doing this for you as much as for me.” So just left a really bad taste in my mouth, but, uh, um—and then, you know, I got to be onstage for The Who. I got to bring on The B-52’s. They opened for The Who, and [laughs] that was the punk rock scene there, and that was—they were considered, you know, new wave. Uh, that was, uh [makes sound]—the rock guys did not like—they were booed[sic] ‘em. They were throwing stuff onstage. I’m bringing them on and I dodge a can—a Converse [Chuck Taylor] All Star [shoe] that—a red one. I’ll never forget it. So I dodged that one, brought on the band. They lasted maybe three songs, and while I was onstage, the other Converse All Star—the other red one—came flying up on the stage. So they only lasted three songs and walked off and I can’t blame them, but, uh [laughs] there’s just—just epic stuff like that, but, uh, there’s no—I mean, you can’t even describe what it’s like to be out on that stage in front of 50,000 people, and when you speak, there’s a delay. There’s like a half to a full second delay. So you’re hearing, you know—that’s very—that’s hard to get used to, but, you know, the—the—the—the experience was just unbelievable. Great stuff.
Cravero
That’s cool.
Dolan
Yeah.
Cravero
[laughs].
Cravero
I read also you did, uh,—you, uh—CMT’s [Country Music Television], uh—they did like a fantasy camp?
Dolan
Yeah, Camp Nashville [laughs].
Cravero
What was that?
Dolan
My—my friend and I, Lee Bailey, who was a promoter himself—in fact, he was of the only guys to lose money on Larry the Cable Guy,[4] if you can believe that, uh, and—so he had some bad luck, but, uh, we—we were trying to do, uh—it was patterned after Rock and Roll Fantasy Camp, uh, which is hugely successful. I—and what the concept is: you gather musicians, you pay to be a camper, and, you know, they jam with you, they teach you some stuff, they have sessions. You know, it’s all—it’s very cool. Very cool concept. Well, we thought we could do it and we went to Nashville and, uh, found out that it was a little harder than we thought, and so it never even got off the ground. Uh, we—we had—we opened it, uh, we were taking camper, you know, registrations, but, uh, just didn’t have the money or the contacts to—to make it happen, and I still think it’s a good idea, but we just couldn’t pull it off.
So, uh—I like all kinds of music. I mean, I’ve worked rock and smooth jazz, always, you know, news and traffic, but, I like country. Uh, I’m not real fond of rap, but, uh—I mean, every music has something in it, and every music—Americana? uh, I mean, come on. Bon Iver? I like that guy.[5] I think that guy is talented, uh, but—but, you know, I don’t know all of the new music. I—I don’t know how anybody keeps up with it. There’s just so much out there, and so much that’s never heard by, you know, anybody but the real fans. Uh, so I depend on my two, uh, sons to keep me up on that.
Dolan
But, uh, it’s—it’s just a great—a great career, if you can find your niche. That’s the whole key, and you’ve got to remember that it changes every day [laughs] practically, and so uh, be ready to move, you know?
Cravero
Well, I know you’ve got a show to get to.
Dolan
Yeah, man.
Cravero
So, uh…
Dolan
The news and traffic never stops.
Cravero
[laughs].
Dolan
And there’s plenty to do, but, uh, let’s make sure—yeah, I’m good.
Cravero
Alright.
Dolan
Okay, but, uh, you know—just in closing, it—it—it’s so good to be remembered, I think, in a positive way, and I just try to be myself and—and try to connect, try to—I mean, I love people, and—and that’s what you have to have. You have to have that empathy for your audience, and, uh—onstage, as well. Uh, I love to do onstage, love to bring bands on. I—I just brought, uh—uh—uh, Blandini—Jeff Blando was an old rocker. It’s—he’s still around, and, uh, you know, played with, uh, uh, uh, Slaughter and, uh, I can’t think of it. Anyway—but—but he—he’s got his own band, Blandini. I just brought him on. It’s a new place called Paradise Cove in Seminole County, right by the river. Man, it’s got a pool, boat slips—you can pull your boat right up, uh, and so my friend, uh, Randy—he’s—he’s got that, uh, place, and so you know, I still do that all the time. I’ll bring—I love these—especially these bands that have been around for a while and are still doing it, and it’s like, hey. You know, one relic introduces the others.
Cravero
[laughs].
Dolan
Right? So it—it’s just—it’s—it beats working always, and I appreciate you coming by and talking to me [laughs].
Cravero
I appreciate you talking to us, Mick. Thanks a lot.
Dolan
And get the word out. We’re still here.
Cravero
[laughs].
Dolan
[laughs].
Cravero
Will do.
Dolan
Okay.
Cravero
Alright, man. Thanks.
Dolan
Thank you. Alright.