McLaughlin
Alright, today is Wednesday, the 24th of October, 2012. It is 3:05 PM. I am with Dr. Storm [Leslie] Richards at his home in Geneva, Florida, and we’re going to discuss his experiences as related to historic preservation in Sanford, specifically concerning the Sanford Student Museum [and Center for the Social Studies].
Richards
We moved to Sanford in 1953. My dad was in, uh, the Navy at the time, and, um, we came here, uh, when Sanford was a very small community. It was very agriculturally-oriented. Um, there were many, many schools in Sanford. Uh, I went to, uh, about four of them, uh, from about elementary school through high school—all in Sanford, and then I went to Seminole Community College,[1] which was what it was called at the time in the 1970s, uh, and got my Associate of Arts degree, and went on to the University of Florida and finished my Bachelor’s, Master’s, and Doctorate at, uh, the University of Florida in Gainesville. Um, did some graduate work at Tulane University, but, uh, for the most part, I was always at the University of Florida, and I had a very strong interest in historic preservation and archaeology and, uh, urban—urban development, and I think, uh, first time that I really became—became directly, um, associated with the school [inaudible] was I was asked to help write a grant. Um, he grant was originally through the Division of Historical Resources, which is part of Florida Department of State for doing architectural reconstruction and rehabilitation. Um, one of the things that came to me from the very, very beginning was that the school—the [Sanford] Grammar School was such a tremendous resource in terms of historically where[?] Sanford had been. It was constructed in 1907, I think—’02-’07, and, um, it had always been a real focal point for—for education for—for young kids, and I think, uh—I didn’t go to school there and—and I always remember the school having, uh, teeter-totters and having, um, jungle gyms and the having the maypole, uh, swing that the kids would swing around and stuff like that. It’s—it’s the kind of thing where you still remember the kids yelling and screaming, and just, uh, it was a very fun place. Um, academically, I can’t really speak for it, but, uh, I can remember that—that there was always a lot of activity there, and the school, uh, that I identified with the grant that I worked on was a very important hub for Sanford and for Seminole County to—to look at something historic and say that so many people had gone there and so many people’s lives had been involved. I just thought it was a wonderful focal point, um, to try to keep, and, uh, at that time, they were really the first time that they were getting into the notion of it being an historic properties, and being important for a museum, and—and I was just really, uh, excited about that for the kids to be able to go back and look at things the way they were a hundred years ago.
McLaughlin
All right. Um, in what capacity were you involved, specifically with the grant-writing process?
Richards
Um, because I was—I am a certified archaeologist, and I have a really strong background in historic preservation with the University of Florida and the Urban Re-Use and Planning Department, I was asked to—to come in and take a critical look at if the site was really historic. Now, it had already been designated on the [U.S.] National Register of Historic Places, which one would assume would make it very important, uh, but because it’s part of a district, um, that’s not necessarily the case, and you really want a building like that to stand on its own, be—because the importance not of just the neighborhood, but the importance of it being, uh, the structure that was there, uh, and so I put together, uh, all of the documentation on, uh, why it was historically important, and what it meant to the community, and why the state should look at it as being not just some local landmark, but as something that was important to the county and the State of Florida.
So I wrote that up, and what really ended up happening was that the state looked at that and felt that there was enough merit there that it was designated on a, uh, state list of very important, uh, uh, schools for the State of Florida and it was designated as such with that important notice. I think that the other thing that I did was, uh, I contacted a number of commissioners and a number of people that had on a say on, uh—on how money was being spent, whether it was the school board of, uh, Seminole County, because it was certainly a focus of not just the City of Sanford, but the county also, uh, and told them the importance of preserving that, because at a certain point, older buildings have a way of just deteriorating to the point that they can no longer be used, and it takes an investment, and sometimes, that investment can actually cost more than—than new construction, you know? Rehabilitation’s a very expensive proposition, but what it does for a community, in terms of identifying the importance of a city, and importance of schools, and importance of looking at the people who got an education there and what they went on to do, and is—and it is far more important than any single dollar value.
McLaughlin
Right, I see. About how long did that process take from start to finish? From the beginning to the end[?]? [laughs].
Richards
It took probably—the grants program probably took six months.
McLaughlin
Hm.
Richards
I think though the writing that I did, because I had a familiarity with it, was probably in days.
McLaughlin
[laughs].
Richards
I’m very quick at what I do, and so I think I wrote the, uh, four- or five-page report of why it was important in—in a day or two days.
McLaughlin
Excellent, and what year was this again?
Richards
You know, I think it was probably about, uh, 10 or 15 years ago. I mean, it was probably in the [19]90s—[inaudible] or something like that.
McLaughlin
So like 90s?
Richards
Yeah.
McLaughlin
Right, and who all—do you remember which people from the museum you worked with?
Richards
Se—Serena [Rankin Parks] Fisher…
McLaughlin
Serena Fisher.
Richards
Uh, she was, you know—and I’ve known her for years and years before that, because she’s a geographer and an educator, and—and I’m a geographer also, and so I knew her from the Florida Alliance, um, which was a group of educators who try to—to convey the importance of educating children, and she was working the museum, and, uh, it was the kind of thing that I felt real honored to help her with, because of the possibility of helping people, and, uh, when you drive by the school even today, which I did,
McLaughlin
[laughs].
Richards
Um, it’s one of those things that you can go look at and be proud that it’s still there, because it could be somebody’s patio brick, you know?
McLaughlin
Yeah.
Richards
And—and so it’s a real good place for kids to go and look at the way that things used to be.
McLaughlin
Excellent, and were there any other instances in Sanford, in which you helped with local preservation efforts?
Richards
Um, yes. Uh, the Hopper Academy, which was the African-American school, h, over near the stadium. Uh, I put together the environmental assessment and some of the feasibility studies for—for looking at the rehabbing of that and making that, uh, another focal point, and because it was a wooden building and it had a lot of decay, it was really difficult, and the neighborhood, uh, didn’t lend itself to, you know—there were a lot of transients in the area, and people were sleeping near—in the school, and people were doing a lot of things that were just destructive. I’m not sure that worked out as well as I would have liked, but it was a real, eh, effort for someone to go over there and say, “We’d like to see, you know this—this kept for the community,” and so I worked on that, and, um, also, when I was the senior planner with Seminole County and worked, um, on comprehensive planning, I—I worked very hard to try to get a conservation element that reflected the importance of archaeological and historic sites, um, in—in Central Florida and Seminole County.
In—in the profession that I have now, we do an awful lot of work in Seminole County. Uh, we worked for the airport in Seminole—the Orlando-Sanford [International] Airport. We’ve identified historic sites and identified preservation, uh, concepts for them. [inaudible]. We’ve worked for the Division of Historic Resources on the railroad sites[?] that existed here that came from the 1900s, when they were shipping an awful lot of, uh, produce out throughout—throughout the state and throughout different parts of the country, and so I’ve, you know, worked a lot on different aspects on Seminole County on—on cultural[?] resource assessments and evaluations, uh, both historic and archaeological resources for the county, and provided information for the of State of Florida.
McLaughlin
Excellent, and here’s a little bit of a different question. In your experience working in Seminole County and living here and growing up, how has it changed environmentally? You—what do you think are probably the biggest ways that it’s changed?
Richards
You know, I think—the—the interesting part of that story—and it just hits me immediately—is how recently—this year, someone burnt down the big.[2] They got inside the tree and they lit it on fire, and you have a tree that is older than the for—the 1400s. Before [Christopher] Columbus and…
McLaughlin
Wow.
Richards
This country.
McLaughlin
[laughs].
Richards
And the tree was there, and they burnt it up and destroyed it, and it was considered an “accident,” and it was considered of no great significance, and I can remember riding my bike out to the tree when I was a child from Sanford. It’s—it’s probably halfway between Sanford and Longwood on [U.S. Route] 17-92. Uh, I can remember there was a wonderful book written by [Elvira] Gardner, it was called Ezekiel’s Travels.
McLaughlin
Mmhmm.
Richards
And—and Ezekiel, a little black boy, rode his bicycle out to the big tree and they documented that in the 1930s.
McLaughlin
Wow.
Richards
You know, and—and—and they burnt this tree up and it was considered just kind of a…
McLaughlin
An accident.
Richards
An accident. So, uh—and I think that—it really has an impact, you know?
McLaughlin
Yeah.
Richards
The—the other thing that I can remember that’s changed so much is, when I was, uh, very young, I used to ride my bike down to the—the band shell, and to the, uh—to Lake Monroe, and used to fish there, and there used to be just the band shell, and just the sea wall, and in the last 25 years, you know, they’ve built, uh—they built hotels there, and, uh, they built, uh, mixed used development there. They have had varying degrees of non-success.
McLaughlin
[laughs].
Richards
Uh, but it’s taken away much of the character, you know? I can remember when the zoo was in Downtown Sanford, and, you know, it was a very small zoo. Sorta not like the really nice complex that they have now, but—but Sanford was [inaudible], you know—libraries were there, and it was a place that—that kids went, and young people went, and it was just very different. The [Sanford] Civic Center was a big, big deal, and they had dances every week, and it was just, you know—it was just a place that people went all the time, and, uh, I don’t see that in Sanford anymore. I don’t see that.
McLaughlin
You think some of the character is gone?
Richards
I think—I think the character—and I think that, you know, its—its, um—its environment, and its, um—the neighborhood, and it’s, um—it’s just the changes that have taken place, you know? I can remember the parades in Downtown Park Avenue, and just, um, very large parades that everybody in the community got involved in, and we have something like that now, but [inaudible]—it’s just a, uh—an agglomeration of people with big bands, and—and crazy things happen from early afternoon to way late
McLaughlin
[laughs].
Richards
[inaudible], and it’s just not something that I’m interested in participating in, you know? Probably there are a lot of people that do, but it’s—it’s just very different from when I was raised in Sanford.
McLaughlin
Yeah. As far as developmentally, what effect do you think that the arrival of like Disney Corporation[3] and things like that had on the change, if any?
Richards
Yeah, eh, Disney is a very large beast.
McLaughlin
[laughs].
Richards
And it has a lot of beasts that, uh, have attracted to it—whether it’s the whale beast or the, you know, uh, any number of other international destinations that I think that it’s affected probably not just all of Florida, but the Southeast. It’s the number one tourist destination, you know, in the world, u, and I think it makes Interstate [Highway] 4, which used to be a wonderful opportunity to go to Orlando and you just got on the interstate and ten minutes later, you were in Orlando, and today, it’s, um—it’s questionable if it even functions at all.
McLaughlin
[laughs].
Richards
You know, we have a—we have a toll road system, in which, uh, I was assigned to that. I was Deputy Director of the toll way [inaudible] before they actually started developing it, and it was supposed to relieve the traffic and make traffic a lot different in Central Florida, but Central Florida is so densely populated that it was probably nothing can significantly change that. You know, whether it’s a rail system that they won’t put in, it will cost billions of dollars, whether it’s increasing lanes on I-4, or whether the [Central Florida] GreeneWay builds out. It’s—it’s not going to make the quality of life significantly different, in my opinion, you know, but that’s just part of the price you pay.
McLaughlin
Yeah. Just out of curiosity, how many lanes did I-4 use to be? [laughs].
Richards
You know, I think it was always six—divided six.
McLaughlin
Divided six?
Richards
Yeah, um, eh, it—it had fewer ramps.
McLaughlin
Mmhmm.
Richards
And so they put in more ramps and more access, and it’s—it’s—the speed is much quicker today than it’s ever been. Uh, the Fairbanks [Avenue] curb is a problem that people have been having for years, and everybody’s looking at the engineering and saying, “It’s got to be engineering.” They say, “It’s got to be, you know, your problems,” you know? People are traveling between their ears if they don’t pay attention to traffic, and that’s why we gotta have people at such a quick pace today, you know? It used to be if you made it to work at 8- 8:30, you know, or if you, you know, were just there. Now, everybody fills the building up at 10-to-8, and, you know, so consequently, everybody gets on the interstate and it’s as fast as they can go, and it reminds me a little bit of Atlanta[, Georgia].
McLaughlin
Yeah.
Richards
You know, if you’re not doing 80 [miles per hour], you’re not getting there.
McLaughlin
[laughs].
Richards
I think that the—I think that I-4 is quickly approaching that. If you’re not doing 70, you’re probably not going to make it.
McLaughlin
Yeah.
Richards
You know, that’s just part of reality, part of the [inaudible], and the—the—it’s the quickness of what happens today. It wasn’t like that in the, you know, 1960s.
McLaughlin
Okay, before we go, if you could—would you like to share the story about your father
Richards
Uh…
McLaughlin
And what he did at the Navy base?
Richards
We moved to Sanford in—in ’53. My dad was stationed in Jacksonville, um, before that in the, um—in the Navy, and—and when we moved here, my dad was a navigator bombardier and a mechanic, and when the first jets, which were the [Douglas] A-3D[ Skywarrior]s came from California, my dad was part of the crew that flew the jets from California to Florida. That was before the [North American A-5] Vigilantes, before the larger aircraft. These were, you know twin-engine jets, but their total design and their total purpose was, uh, to launch a, uh, nuclear strike, and—and art of what Sanford, you know—Orlando-Sanford Airport today has the bunkers that they kept the nuclear weapons in, and they were going to load onboard the A-3Ds and—and go to Cuba, and my dad was the slim pickins’ of the aircraft, because it was his job to arm the nuclear weapons—To go back in the bomb bays and arm the nuclear weapons with, uh, I guess a detonation device that you screwed in the—in the nose of the bomb, and that was his job. It—and it was very, very stressful, and you know, at the time, I can just barely remember—I guess I was probably about seven—six or seven years old that all these young kids from the Navy would come over to the house, and they would have parties and stuff, and—and what they were doing was, h, the vanguard of changing the world, if—if they had to, and they all agreed to that—that that’s what they were going to do, and my dad was a really big part of that, and I guess there’s—there’s some pride in that, but there’s also some looking back and saying, “Is this really where we were?”
You know, and [inaudible], and I know today—you know, 2012—we’re still talking about the Cuban Missile Crisis and trying to figure out what really happened, and when you think about the people that were going to do whatever they were told to do, you know, there’s a lot of frighteningness[sic] there, and there is a lot of, Have we gone that far? Or, Are we still in the same place? I kinda think about that occasionally.
McLaughlin
Do you have any other thoughts about Sanford or Seminole County or the Student Museum that you would like to share with us before we…
Richards
I think that the Student Museum is, you know—it—it—it—it’s probably a lot bigger than most people really think. It’s—it’s not a matter of postcards and maps and little things that you can touch or handle, but it’s the notion of where we come from and where we’re going, and will people identify those things in 10 years, in 20 years, in 30 years, and say that, uh—that there was something that was very valuable here? It was something that was very important to a lot of people, and I hope we can still see that, and I hope that that’s, uh, a multicultural thing that—that, uh, everybody can look at and say, “This is—this is where we were, and this is where we are, and lot of good things have taken place.”
McLaughlin
Excellent, and once again, my name is Ian McLaughlin, and I’m interviewing Dr. Storm Richards at his home in Geneva, Florida. Today is Wednesday, the 24th of October, 2012.
Reisz
Okay, alright. Here we go. So I’m going to do a little intro, uh, that—I am Autumn Reisz and I am interviewing David [C.] Grace this morning, and we’re gonna talk about, um, his experiences and work at the Student Museum in Sanford, um, as a Master Gardener and also a docent, and then—so if you want to start with telling us where you grew up, and went to school, and—and how you ended up here in Florida.
Grace
Okay, uh, how I wound up in Florida goes back in history. I am from Wichita, Kansas, where I was born in 1942. Went to, uh, high school there at Wichita [High School] East. One of my close buddies was [Robert] “Bob” [Michael] Gates…
Reisz
Nice.
Grace
Uh, the Secretary of the Defense, formerly. Went to Wichita State University, graduated, unfortunately, four years later. Uh, I didn’t think I was going to make it. I say “unfortunately,” because I graduated with a business emphasis in accounting, and I was also commissioned as a Second Lieutenant United States Army in 1965. So I tried to work on a Master’s Degree, and that didn’t work too well. So I found myself going on active duty and Redstone Arsenal in [Huntsville,] Alabama—missile command. So I was a missile maintenance officer for three years. Then I, uh, then I decided to retire early, after three years. I interviewed with a number of companies, and, uh—Firestone [Tire and Rubber Company], um, uh—some other companies in the Midwest, but then somebody offered me a job in Fort Myers, Florida.
Now my connection to Florida goes back to 1914. My dad was born here in Okahumpka in Lake County. Uh, my grandparents—my grandmother grew up in a little town called Bloomfield, Florida, which no longer exists. It’s on the south side of, uh, Lake Harris—close to Yalaha. My dad was named after, uh, the kaolin pit. Kaolin is a white chalk used as a filler in paper, china, that sort of thing. So, uh, things did not work out, eh, the price of kaolin went south, so the family had to move to Central Georgia, where the Kaolin was better quality. Dad decided in, uh, about 1937, he didn’t want to be a pig farmer, or be in Central Georgia, where it was just a mining town. He went to aviation school and was later hired by Walter Beech—Beech Aircraft[1] in Wichita. So, uh, that is where my mom comes in and, uh—so my, uh—so, uh, that’s where my life started in 1942.
Now, you know, we’d always go to Grandma’s house in Central Georgia every year, until I was 17 years old, and from there, we’d always venture down to Florida. So I knew something about Florida and I guess that one of my decisions about going to work for United Telephone [Company of Florida] in Fort Myers. I’ve been here in Florida basically since 1970. I followed the purchases of, uh, Florida Telephone Corporation in Ocala. So I was there in Ocala for a few years, came here in 1978, with the purchase of Winter Park Telephone [Company], and, uh, now we know United Telephone has the, uh, the company that is Sprint [Corporation], and the other company is right now called CenturyTel. So that’s how I got here.
Reisz
Nice. That is quite the journey [laughs]. So how did you become involved with the Sanford museum?[2]
Grace
Uh, when I retired, and I was at the regulatory with the phone company, the regulation went away. The telephone company was deregulated. Uh, so in 1997, at the age of 55, they said, “The regulation has gone away and so are you.” So I retired and, uh, [clears throat] one of the things that I wanted to do was be a—a gardener. Moving to Florida and being a gardener—you have to understand that things don’t grow like they do in Kansas. So, um, I guess I wanted to be a Master Gardener. So I took the 14-week course, which is one day a week—essentially from 9 to 3. After that time—time you become a Master Gardener. So the day that I graduated from being a Master Gardener, I also went back to work with a, uh—as a CFO [Chief Financial Officer] for the Florida Safety Council. So I gave that up after three years. Now, what was beautiful about, um—about workin’ at the Central Florida Safety Council, being a Master Gardener—which requires 35 hours a year of volunteer service—every last Saturday of the month, here at the Student Museum was an opportunity to volunteer in the gardens. The gardens started here in about 1997-98 time frame. So over a period of three years, I was up here once a month to get my 35 hours a year, and after that, I just kinda hung around.
Reisz
Um, can you tell us a little bit about the teaching gardens? Um, and how they are used to teach the students?
Grace
[clears throat] Okay, well, when I retired the second time, I was asked to come in and be a docent, and, uh, I used to teach the majority of all the rooms here, but I did fall in love with Native American history [clears throat]. The individual that started the gardens was, uh, Walter Padgent, who, at that time, owned Higgins House [Bed and Breakfast], just up the street here, and he was also in the same class as I was for the Master Gardener organization. So, uh, being here, at the—at the Student Museum, I kind of fell in love with [clears throat] Native American history, and, uh—and Walt Padgent—that’s how the gardens started—was he had this vision of—and he used to be, I believe, a pioneer docent. So he wanted something out here—immediately right outside the windows here—uh, where the first grounds of a vegetable garden, or pioneer garden, which allowed the fourth grade students to come here, dig a trench, plant their beans, cover it up, water it, and end the exhibit part outside.
Couple of years ago, I challenged a lady—and I didn’t actually challenge her. I just said to her one day, “Wouldn’t it be nice to have a three sisters garden out here?” The three sisters—corn, uh—three sisters garden are corn, beans, and squash, and it, uh—it’s part of the—we gave up painting faces, which was about a 10-minute mission there, in the Native American [Exhibit: Life in an Ancient Timucuan Village] room, and what else are you going to do with the 10 minutes? I said, “Well, let’s take them out to the gardens.” ‘Cause out here, in the teaching gardens, we did have the three sisters garden. We showed the kids. It’d be surprising that maybe some kids don’t what corn looks like, other than what’s on the breakfast cereal box, and of course, the three sisters are complimentary to each other. They give a balanced diet to the Native Americans. You—you get your carbs from corn, you get your protein from the beans, and you get a well-balanced, nourished diet from squash.
So, uh, we also have, out here, the coontie plant, which became a major industry here in Florida, because it was a source of, um, uh, starch. Everybody needs a li’l starch. The coontie plant would provide that starch, and it became an industry, uh—it was an industry up until 1909. Up here in DeLand, Florida, a company manufactured coontie starch. So I show the kids that, because the Native Americans used that. Uh, it is a poisonous plant, uh—with the red berries. It is kinda common. Nowadays, it’s become more popular in the local landscape.
Then we move on over to a beautyberry—the American beautyberry bush—which at this time of year, has some really beautiful purple berries on the stems, and we tell ‘em that grandma used to make jelly from those. Uh, Native Americans can use that as, uh, some—sometimes they say there’s a little color in there. It could get used for body paint, or ‘bout the best use I know of is it’s a good insect repellent.
Uh, we also stop at the herb garden, and, uh, most kids don’t—they understand what an herb might be, um, but they probably have never seen one, like rosemary. Uh, I try to show ‘em like four different kinds of herbs: rosemary—aloe that we use for sunburns—thyme—you could use for casseroles and soups—and there’s another—there’s another one out there I throw in there if it is out there in the herb garden.
We go around and talk about the sassafras tree, and then lastly I take them to yaupon holly. We have a weeping yaupon holly here in our gardens, and, uh, the botanical name for that is ilex vomitia, and it doesn’t take too long for the kids to understand there’s something about the word vomitia. Uh, the yaupon holly was used as a ceremonial tea—a drink. Every morning, the chief and the elders of the tribe or branch would partake of yaupon holly tea—or we know it today—they called it “black drink.” It’d make you—it’d make you sweat profusely. Uh, I’ve told it has six or seven times more caffeine than a cup of coffee. It’ll keep you awake for 48 hours. So the hunters of the tribe would drink this. Uh, drink all they could get, throw up which was good luck. Uh, and they’d go out to the hunt and they would—would, uh, be in the stand—the steer dan—deer stand for 48 hours, and, uh, that was the hunt.
Reisz
Wow. How so—do you do plantings that are seasonal here? Do you change as the cycle goes around? Or do you try and continue to keep the same basic things around to teach the students?
Grace
Um, we replenish, like the herbs, and we plant, of course, the three sisters garden. We didn’t have irrigation here, until about 2003, which meant before that, uh—that in the summertime, we just covered up the gardens with plastic, go home, and don’t come back until September.
Reisz
Oh.
Grace
Now we have irrigation year-round. Um, so it’s all up to the climate and, uh, we’ve been a mode for the last several years, probably since about—since 2005, and that mode is—is what you’d basically call “maintenance.” Maintaining what we have because of the, uh, things that we heard about the school’s gonna close up. It’s gonna be sold, and some Master Gardeners even thought about coming here and digging up the plants, and moving back to the extension, which to me is called trespassing. So what’s good about the gardens right now, we’ve maintained them. Haven’t done a lot of planting, other than what we do here for the students: the vegetable garden, the herb garden, uh, butterfly garden. We kinda keep up on that, but the other plants and the other gardens, like our shade garden, subtropical garden, our wildlife habitat, is going wild and is flourishing, and we can stand back and trim and prune, as necessary.
Reisz
Yeah, do you have to do any extra maintenance with the roses or anything like that, other than regular pruning, or do you just let them be?
Grace
You’d be surprised that the roses we have here, which are maintained by the Orlando Area Historical Rose Society. Uh, they’re the ones that set it up back in 1997. They are what we call “antique roses.” They have very little response to, uh—in other words, they don’t get black spot. They don’t get diseases. Um, you can get an antique rose of any size, any color. We have one rose out there, which is probably about 15 feet in diameter—about 8 feet tall. Beautiful rose—pink rose. Ah, we have the other roses that crawl on the ground, like a ground cover. Uh, the rosarium that takes care of that rose garden right now is the president of that society. So he’s an expert on roses, and, uh, while a homeowner might not think that, uh, they need a lot of care. I don’t really care. I have some in my own yard. They don’t get a lot of care. So they’re by themselves. They’re happy, but, uh, as an exhibit here, he comes out maybe two or three times a year. Gives ‘em—gives ‘em a good heavy feeding of fertilizer, uh, in the fall, we try to round up at least 20 bags. I mean big bags of leaves—oak leaves—and spread them in the rose garden, as well. So is there a lot of maintenance? Not really.
Reisz
Yeah.
Grace
We just make ‘em happy.
Reisz
Yeah, make them happy. Um, I saw online—I looked up, um, the Master Gardeners, and it—there’s a newsletter called The Seminole County, uh, Green Thumb.
Grace
Yup.
Reisz
It mentions that people can stop in and ask questions of the Master Gardeners.[3] Do you get a lot of, like, adults coming in to ask you questions about planting—Florida planting—anything like that? Or they just come in and see the gardens?
Grace
Especially they just come in on special occasions, and, uh, hoping that UCF [University of Central Florida] here—that we get people to—when they come in the front door, you want to get them to go out the back door, ‘cause that’s where the gardens are, and, historically, uh, people that have come and visited the gardens do ask questions, but, uh, sometimes getting traffic back here to the garden has been difficult.
Reisz
Yeah. Possibly that will change, since they changed the parking situation as well, since people have to see the garden…
Grace
Right, right.
Reisz
Before they go in. Um, how much time do you devote to the gardens now? I know you had said that you were doing, like, one Saturday a month to get your yearly. Is that the same? Are you doin’ more time? Are you doin’ little less time?
Grace
Historically, we found out, over the years, that people get more active on the weekends.
Reisz
Yeah.
Grace
Especially at this time of year when there are a lot of festivals going on, and this is the best time to come out to the gardens and work. So, uh—and it’s difficult to get volunteers to come here. The Master Gardeners—the main membership is probably about 40—maybe 50—members, and a lot of times they take the classes for one or two purposes. The guys come out—maybe they run a landscaping business—they want to become a Master Gardener and have that in their portfolio, so they can sell their services. We have a lot of ladies that come out. The last class of 24, uh, attendees—23 of them were women, and so the odds are in my favor, because, uh, today, if maybe it was a little warmer, I’d have at least three ladies here on Tuesdays. So, uh, we quit having the Saturday end of month work day. It just was not working out. People were not coming out. They’re more active with families. So, uh, I try to designate, as each graduating class comes along. I tell ‘em come on out, get interested in a project, uh, tell me when you can come out, and, uh, Tuesdays have become a favorite day. Uh, trying to get Thursday and maybe another day. Some people come out here on a—on a monthly basis. The ones I associate with on Tuesdays, come out on a weekly basis. We spend anywhere from—uh, right now, a day like today, we could work out here for six hours and think nothing of it. When the church bells ring across the street at noon, I call it quits.
Reisz
Okay, so we talked a little bit earlier, um, about you being a docent with the museum. Um, when did you become a docent?
Grace
I was asked to come inside, uh, to be a docent in the year 2001, after I had retired the second time.
Reisz
And then you said—you had mentioned you, um, you had taught the Native American room. Did you teach any of the other rooms?
Grace
I’ve taught—one of my favorite ones—which I can get emotional about sometimes when I taught it—is Grandma’s Attic.
Reisz
Yeah.
Grace
Because I’m old enough to realize that, when I went as a young man—to grandma’s house or to a great aunt’s house that lived down in Florida or Kansas, uh—you still had to go to the well to get your water. The outhouse was out in the back. Uh, we tried not to take a bath, because basically a bathtub did not exist. So you get all those, uh, things lined up and you try to tell these kids, uh, how life was. In fact, the—teaching Native American history and pioneer history and Grandma’s Attic—which is about a 100 years ago—wasn’t that much different, and I taught the other rooms, as well.
Reisz
Yeah?
Grace
Geography [Lab: Where in the World Are We?]. Um, it was kind of interesting. When I came here, uh, my life as a young man, uh—going into adult—it kind of fits. I was in accounting for 30 years. I did so, because that’s how you make money. Dad says, if you want to make a decent salary, uh, be an accountant—be in business. That didn’t really fit like a glove.
Uh, my dad and I used to look for Indian artifacts in—in Central Kansas, ever since I was five years old. Uh, we were members of the rock society, Wichita Gem and Mineral Society for, uh—I quit paying dues about five years ago. Uh, so I’ve been involved in archeology, paleontology, minerals—you name it. Uh, I fit here.
Reisz
Yeah.
Grace
And, uh, I love Native American history, ‘cause I’ve been involved in that. We may have talked on the phone about—I was a member of Indian Guides. For Indian Guides, you’re a Cub Scout in Wichita, Kansas. It’s about Native American history. For Eagle Scout, Order of the Arrow. So all my life, in the summertime, we used to go out to the camp—Boy Scout[s of America] camp, every week, ‘cause we were a special troop. We had, uh, costumes, you might say, and we danced for the audience. So, uh, Native American history been a part of my life, even though I am 50 percent German and 50 percent English and Scottish.
Reisz
Um, was the Native American room your favorite room to teach? Or was Grandma’s Attic your favorite room to teach?
Grace
Native American is probably one of the favorite rooms to teach. Grandma’s Attic coming in second. Ah, [Turn of the Century] Classroom[: Lessons from 1902] coming is third. Pioneer [Pioneer Exhibit: Before the Settlement of Sanford] room is fourth, I would say. Geography, uh—it comes in fifth, and, uh, when I started here the coordinator—the program coordinator—she was the one that taught geography. So the other three rooms I—I used to teach the classroom. It was okay. It takes a special person. We had a special person, by the name of Florence. Uh, she is a little older than I am, but she knew how teachers were in 1902, and she demanded that same, uh, discipline. So that’s kinda cool. Pioneer, uh—since I’m not a native Floridian, I don’t really understand that, until I read that book Remembered Land or [A] Land Remembered. I could really find out something about the pioneers of Florida. So, uh, being a collector of artifacts, uh, since I was a kid—we’re talking about 60 years plus. I’ve donated artifacts, fossils to the museum, so that’s where I fit.
Reisz
Mmhmm. Do you have a particular, like, favorite teaching tool with the kids in any of the rooms? I know, that, um, for a lot of the docents—like especially with Grandma’s Attic or the Native American room—they’d have one particular artifact that they really used—liked to use to teach the children. Did you have anything particular like that?
Grace
Well, one of the things that kids would always come and ask, the number one question: “Is this real?” So it kinda irritated me for some time, so I said, “Don’t ask me that question. I’m going to tell you it’s real, even though it’s not.” A lot of the materials we’ve had here—they’re not exactly real, of course. You don’t expect things to be real that go back to about 1500, but in my collection, we used to collect a lot of artifacts out of Central Georgia, which are approximately three to four to five thousand years old, and I bring those with me. Sometimes, I’d wear pants that have the mini pockets and I’ll fill the pockets up with anything from shark teeth, Uh—I’ve brought in a couple of meteorites that I found in Texas in a parking lot that was a gravel parking lot. Just so happens to be something I picked up, and it was determined by the University of Kansas to be a meteorite. I bring that in and I pass it around.
Uh, sometimes I, uh, go out bounds. Sometimes, the, uh, program director sometimes gets a little—little irritated with me. Sometimes I go out of bounds, and—and teach some things and touch on some things that, uh, they don’t want me to teach, but I—I bring artifacts. Uh, that’s one thing I liked about Grandma’s Attic. Before UCF came, it was all cluttered. It looked like an antique store. So just about everything I looked at or touched is a memory. So it’s kinda like the same thing with Native Americans, even though I didn’t go back to 1513. It’s about artifacts, pottery, uh—I’ve brought in pottery shards of different designs, and asked the kids, “Well, how did this pattern get on this piece of pottery?” It was done with a paddle. It was done with pine needles. So I’ve tried to bring in the real stuff, and I use the artifacts—the things in the room—uh, to get their attention. I like the “wow” factor. I like to challenge the kids, that when they leave they might go to the library, and grab a bunch of Native American books, and go home and read ‘em, ‘cause I think it is the most fascinating history about how that—how it’s all about survival. The hunters, the male [inaudible], the female [inaudible], okay? That was survival. The lady had to fix the guys buttons. The guy had to fix his meals. I ask the kids, “When you go home, who do ask—who do you ask in your family what’s for supper? Do you ask your dad?” Probably not, ‘cause he’s in the living room. He’s being a warrior. His face is painted orange on one side, blue on the other side, and he’s got a big bowl of popcorn. Mom, she’s slaving in the kitchen fixing your dinner for you. That’s the person you go and ask. So nothing’s changed over—since 1500. The men are still hunters—still warriors. Mom does everything else.
Reisz
So what is it like teaching fourth graders? How do you keep the children focused and—and engaged in what you’re telling them?
Grace
Well, sometimes that’s interesting. It depends upon, the, uh, school that comes, unfortunately. I used to have a list of—Okay, this, uh—this school’s coming this week. Okay, I’ll bring some of my artifacts.‘Cause I—‘cause I know, in the past they—I can get their attention real quick. Some of the other schools—little bit differently. So I just go down the middle of the road, and stick with the subject matter, ‘cause some of the kids that come here, I—I extend myself. Um, some of the other students, I can almost figure it out, based on which elementary school comes. They’re about the same as last year. So sometimes the days are difficult. Um, you know, chaperones—I don’t know if I can say this on tape—but we have chaperones that like to chit chat, when I am trying to present my presentation. Sometimes, the teachers are down here looking at stuff we’re trying to sell in a rummage sale. So it’s kind interesting just to see as each group comes through. They’re all unique. They’re all different, and as a volunteer, uh, sometimes you have a problem with discipline. Can’t figure out how to do that. Sometimes, being an old codger like I am, uh, I’ve got in trouble a couple of times. In Grandma’s Attic, I point to the back and say there’s a blue outfit. Give some clues. I might say, you know, it was a Victoria’s Secret original. I’d say, Oops. I just stepped in it. ‘Cause it is a swim suit that goes back to 1907. Uh, okay. So I’ve been called down for that, but what the heck? I’m a volunteer.
Reisz
Yeah, is it hard to stay on, um—with the kids that you’re really engaged in, Um, I know you said you do go off script. Is hard to make sure you cover everything that is set out in the curriculum, while still covering the things you think are important?
Grace
I’ve been kind of a rebel the last few years. Um, I guess it is because when I first came on board, who taught me how to do this was the program director or the secretary. The secretary was very knowledgeable, because she was called upon numerous of times to do teaching. Secretary—yeah. Well, I gotta go teach that, close the door and, uh, ‘cause I’ve gotta go teach Grandma’s Attic or be a school teacher today. They’re the ones that taught me what to say, uh, and it continues today. I’ve gone through, I think, three program directors, and the same wording I heard—what I learned—specifically is still used today. I mean, we go outside and we meet the school bus, and talk about Romanesque revival architecture, and I’ve learned this since day one. You ask a student—you ask a class, “I wonder where Roman architecture comes from?” If a kid says, “Rome[, Italy],” okay. He gets a pat on the head. After 14 years, they still get a pat on the head. I mean, it’s just like going around telling a story from number one to number 20. I seem to stick with the idea that ,when a student gives a correct answer, give ‘em a pat on the shoulder—or, “You’re a straight A student today.”
Reisz
Do you have a favorite story about, um, either the gardens or, you know, being a docent at the Student Museum? Is there a favorite moment with a child or story with a child? Or even just, you know…
Grace
One…
Reisz
Working in an exhibit?
Grace
One of my favorite stories—again, this is something I don’t know if it’s unique to our education system. We used to have animals in, uh, the Native American room. We used to have a bobcat, and, uh, I’d tell the story when things were getting kind of slow. Or, you know, this is—again, being kinda like a rebel—I’d tell the legend of how the bobcat got its, uh, spots on its fur. Well, he was chasing a rabbit one day, and, uh, the rabbit went into a tree trunk—a hollow tree trunk. Well, the rabbit knew he was gonna get caught, ‘cause here comes the bobcat. The bobcat knows he’s in there, and the rabbit tries negotiating. What am I going to do now? So he says, “I know you’ve got me now. So why don’t you just set this tree trunk on fire?” Sometimes, the kids ask, “Well, how does the bobcat set the tree on fire?” I just say, “Well, that’s for another time and I’ve got to keep this story kind of short.” So when he set the tree trunk on fire, smoke and sparks were billowing out of the top of the tree trunk, and, uh, all of the sudden the bobcat realizes that these sparks are landing on his fur. Well, he’s got to pay more attention to these little fires that are now appearing on his fur, and he loses attention of, well, you know, what happened to the rabbit. Now that the bobcat has all these spots on his fur, the rabbit is now gone. He’s on up the trail. He has escaped. “That his spots come from this story about 5,000 years ago.” So I think it is a kind of a cool story.
Reisz
Yeah, I think so.
Grace
It is legend. It’s[sic] stories. It’s, in some cases, superstition, and I’ve been—I’ve been careful to be—not to say a whole lot about superstition. It’s like our three sister garden is—is grown in a circle, and that circle is because they believed that there were higher frequencies or things out there in the universe that were focused down on a—on a circular garden. Same thing with a dunce cap. Sometimes—sometimes, I tell the kids that you won’t learn this when you go to the classroom, but the dunce class—the dunce cap that you will see in there was invented by Mr. [John] Duns [Scotus] in England in the 1700s. It was for a therapy of—of slow learners. Again, the dunce cap is in what form? A cone. So that cone focused down all this knowledge for you to absorb between your ears. Like, in the 1800s, of course, the dunce cap became a disciplinary method, but again, that’s going back to superstition.
Reisz
Mmhmm.
Grace
It’s common. You find it all over the place today. Go down to the local café, and underneath the counter you’ve got these little books that all about fortunetelling, uh, things you can do with your dog and get his emotions straightened out. Kinda cool.
Reisz
Very cool. Any other stories you’d like to share? About the museum? Your experiences here?
Grace
Well, you know, it’s—it’s, uh, somebody mentioned today that, since they did the tenting of the termites, that the place smells better. I said, “You know, I kind of miss that—what it really used to smell like,” ‘cause you can imagine, when you walk around here [clears throat] a lot of times, you’d say, If only the walls could talk. This building goes back to 1902. Sometimes, we—we don’t really tell the whole story. [coughs] Like, uh, what happened during the [Great] Depression years? What did the kids wear to school? I know most of the kids—or a lot of the kids—came to school barefooted. A lot of the girls wore the same—uh, their dresses looked the same. Why is that? That’s because their dresses were made by feed bags. Their mom sewed the—the feed bags. The lady down the street did the same thing. The girls came to school wearing basically the same thing, and you wonder, Well, you know, it must’a been cooler around here in Florida. Which to me, I’ve thought about, Why didn’t I move to Florida? If it wasn’t for air-conditioning, I know I wouldn’t be here. So it’s—it’s kinda cool. We’ve had visitors drop by that came here to school in the [19]50s, they relate to, uh—there was no air-conditioning. Uh, the railroad yard was just down the street belching out—the steam locomotives in the morning belching out smoke and soot and whatever comes out of locomotive stacks, and settled all over the city here. Imagine what, kind of—when—when you’re walking to school as a kid, you hear the school bell ring, I mean, it’s so cool.
Those are the kinda things—I like—this public history, because I forgot to ask my grandmother what life was back when she was a kid. So that’s what I like about public history. Reminds us to, uh, start asking questions about how life really was—not about dates, people, things. I don’t care about what— [Thomas Alva] Edison invented the light bulb. We have light bulbs, but it would’ve been nice to ask him, “What was life like in Fort Myers in 1900 or—er, 1900?” I don’t care about your light bulb. I want to know about your life. “How’d your friend [Harvey] Firestone get down here to Florida?” I mean, I’m still trying to find out—my relatives came from Bearaboo, Wisconsin, and settled in Lake County, which was—at that time, was Sumter County, in about 1870. How’d they get here? I have no idea. From Bearaboo, Wisconsin. They came here. Why? ‘Cause somebody said, “You’ve got a child with asthma?” “Yeah.” I had a great-uncle that had asthma. That’s why they moved to Florida. I still don’t know how they got here.
Reisz
Wow. Thank you very much. Um, we’ve covered everything that I wanted to ask about the gardens, and then your work as a—as a docent. Um, if there’s anything else feel free. If not, I think we’re all set.
Grace
I think that’s about it.
Reisz
Okay.
Grace
I really don’t talk about—or I generally don’t talk much at all [laughs].
Reisz
Well, I’m glad you talked to me. Thank you very much.
Grace
That’s why I am out in the garden, ya know?
Reisz
Yeah.
Grace
Dig a hole, fertilize[?] it, fill it in.
Reisz
Fill it in, yup.
See
This is an oral history interview of Serena [Rankin Parks] Fisher. The interview was conducted by MacKenzie See at the [UCF] Public History Center on Augu—er, on October 8th of 2012. Interview topics include experience with the Sanford Student Museum [and Center for the Social Studies] and Public History Center. Okay. Um, what is your name?
Fisher
My name is Serena Parks Fisher.
See
Um, and what is your occupation?
Fisher
My occupation is dilettante. In other words, I’m a retired teacher and I now do things that I enjoy doing. A little of this and a little of that.
See
Um, and how long have you lived in the Sanford[, Florida] area?
Fisher
I don’t live—well, it depends on what you consider the Sanford area. I do not live in Sanford, but I have lived in Seminole County since 1978.
See
Okay, um, how did you become involved with the Public History Center and what is your role here?
Fisher
Okay, uh, um, I’m a little confused about you asking me about the Public History Center, because, uh, my involvement with the Public History Center came as a result of my involvement with the Seminole County Public School[s’] Student Museum, and I was involved with the Student Museum. First, as a social studies teacher in the school district. At the time the museum was created, I was hearing about it, etc., and at that point, every school was asked to submit a display that gave information about their school. Now, that would have been during the time period of [19]85-‘86 and so forth.
Um, then as time went on, I left the social studies classroom, and went into a media center at a middle school, and again, I would hear about groups going to the Student Museum, and then later, I became, uh, the social studies resource teacher for the district, and then from that position, had the opportunity to become the museum specialist, which was the teaching position at the Student Museum, and as such, I was the teacher, curator, what—whatever, and so, uh, I retired in 2000 and went about my merry way just being a volunteer at the Student Museum, until there was a crisis regarding the restoration of the building, and there was some, um, controversy regarding that, and so I was involved as a member of the restoration committee, and then that morphed into, uh, UCF [University of Central Florida] having the agreement with the school district and the Public History Center, and I must say that I could not be more delighted about this relationship between the University of Central Florida Public History Center and what, uh, has taken place with the school district, because I feel now that the Student Museum—Public History Center—will be achieving the goal that it originally was intended to achieve.
See
Um, in what ways do you feel that the Student Museum is important to the community?
Fisher
Well, I feel that the Public History Center and the Student Museum is important to the community—just the building itself. One of the few remaining examples of Romanesque revival architecture—educational architecture—that is, uh, in the state of Florida. So just from an architectural standpoint, I think the building has a special purpose, but I think more importantly, the reason for me that it is so important is that it is a hands-on museum for students coming through, so that they learn by being involved and actually doing work here at the center. I think that for adults in the community, um, in many ways it’s a reminder of what their school days might have been like and also a reminder of things they have heard their family, um, talk about, and I feel something that the Public History Center will be working on now is using the archives here at the Public History Center, so that those who are doing research can find out more about the past in this area. Um, uh, so I think that is more speaking to the building and the interpretive exhibits, uh, here in the building. Uh, I also feel that this is a very unique setting, because of the teaching gardens here, and there are other hands-on museums in [U.S.] National Register [of Historic Places] buildings, but I don’t know of any other that is a hands-on museum in a National Register building and also has the teaching gardens, and I think this is an added dimension here.
See
Um, you were telling me earlier about the three things that you thought were really important about, um…
Fisher
During me my time here?
See
During your time here [laughs], yes. Can you tell me more about those?
Fisher
Okay, I interpreted my job here—as a museum specialist—that I was a teacher—that my job was to work with students every day and to also work with the teachers, uh, and this gave me many opportunities, not only for, uh, elaborating on curriculum, but also in providing for in-services and so forth, but looking back over my time here at the museum, the three things that I am most proud of—that I can say, “Well, this is something tangible that I did,” uh, was seeing that, um, the gardens were established. This was something I wanted to do, and I realized when I was talking to the students in the Native American room[1] about the three sisters and, um, about the plants, the crops that were grown by the Native Americans, or in the Pioneer Room[2] talking about the three G’s—grits, greens, and gravy. I realized that many students did not quite understand about—what I was talking about. “What are these vegetable for?” For them, these things just came from the store in frozen packages or in cans, and so I thought if they could actually see the plants growing, that that would be important, and fortunately there was, in the neighborhood, a master gardener, Walt Paget, who needed to have a project, and therefore, he was the one who actually came, and we worked together in establishing the very first garden, which was more of a pioneer-oriented garden, but I felt that the establishment of the teaching gardens—showing plants, herbs, and also the historic rose garden— that this was a significant, uh, development during my time here, and the other two things may seem trivial, but to me, they made a difference, and one was having the animal sounds in the Native American room. I thought that, with the subdued lighting, that created more of an atmosphere of traveling back in time to a Native American village, and then here in the Turn of the Century Classroom[: Lessons from 1902]—the ticking of the clock. because I realized that many students could—are just accustomed to digital clocks and had never heard a clock ticking, and so we not only have a clock that ticks, but the face of the clock has Roman numerals, which again, served as a teaching tool. So I guess the three things, when I look back on my tenure here as a museum specialist, were the gardens, the animal sounds, and the ticking clock.
See
What’s your favorite story about the Public History Center or the Student Museum?
Fisher
I have many, many [laughs] that I guess would be favorites that are quite different. Um, two immediately come to mind. One involves students. I had the privilege of working with the tea—uh, a teacher of the autistic, uh, students at Eastbrook Elementary [School], and we worked on a curriculum that we would have the students visited once a month throughout the entire school year. I found that most of the students who were coming were not able to communicate with us verbally, but they seemed to have a real appreciation. They could identify items and so on and so forth. So we felt that we were accomplishing something, and then one day, we were in the Pioneer room, and I had brought down the items from the American Girls book that corresponded to the pioneer period or to a pioneer period, and one of the students in the class was examining the items, and he picked up the item and called it by the name in the book—the, uh, American Girls book, and the teacher had told me earlier that he had read all of the books, but they weren’t sure if he were—was really understanding what he had read. He picked up the lunch pail—and the pail was called a “tenet”—and he picked it up and said that word, and the teacher was astounded and she said, “Did you tell him this?” And I said, “No,” and she said, “I did not.” His mother could not believe it, and that’s when the teacher and the mother realized that this student was reading these books and truly was understanding. That was a memorable day.
Another memorable day was a very early morning knock on the door, uh, at the Student Museum, and an older man was there with his wife and asked if he could come in, and he explained that he had just come in on the auto train—uh, was here in Sanford, because of the auto train, and they were headed on into South Florida, but as a child he had lived here in Sanford, and this was his elementary school, and he wanted to show it to his wife. He asked if he might go upstairs to the auditorium, and he began telling his wife about the plays that the students put on here, and that one of the most proud moments in his life was being in a school play, and that his parents had come to the performance, and how proud he felt, and that he was just bursting with pride when he greeted his parents after the play, and they told him—this was in the depths of the [Great] Depression—that this would be his last time at the school—that they had lost their house, and they moved from the area, and he said that they had to move in with relatives in another state, and he went from this high point, where he was feeling so good to—about himself to a point where he felt that he was—he—he didn’t have anything anymore, and he wanted to come back and show his wife this location, where he had once felt so good about himself.
See
Um, did you ever have any students who misbehaved during a field trip [laughs]?
Fisher
Um, it depends on what you call “misbehave.” Um, I dressed in the role of a turn-of-the-century teacher, and I—I—I did not have any real problems. I had some I had to speak to, and, uh, I tend to use a lower voice when I am really serious and really stern, and it worked out.
I think one of my interesting experiences, though, uh, took place when I student came in at lunchtime, and I just—he was joining his class—and I just assumed the student had been to a doctor’s appointment or something like that, and I noticed that the other students were very much interested in talking to him and I thought, Well, you know, maybe it was an unusual appointment or something, but it was at lunch and they were chatting, you know? So that was it, and after lunch, I took the group to Grandma’s Attic, where they had the opportunity to try on clothing and so forth, and, uh, that’s when I realized that the student had been given—at the appointment in the morning—an ankle monitor, and that’s why [laughs] his classmates were very much interested in how his appointment had gone, but it—it was no problem with the child. He cooperated beautifully.
See
Um, how do you see the Public History Center’s role in the community changing, now that it’s open to the public, instead of just for fourth grade field trips?
Fisher
Okay, the key thing there is “open to the public.” Because of very limited staff— it was very difficult to have it open for extended hours, and working under the school district, we could not have the public in when students were here, and so that meant there were just limited opportunities for the public to come. I now see this for—as an opportunity for, uh, people from all over whether they’re coming in by auto train or the airport or, uh, wherever—having the opportunity to visit here, because of the extended hours and the fact that the, um, Public History Center will be open on the weekend.
I also envision that there will be learning opportunities—special programs for adults here, and I had mentioned one that I hope—I would love to see it develop—um, where there was to be a workshop here for adults, where they would be given the opportunity to start writing down their own personal history—their own life story, [air conditioner turns on] and I think that this would be an ideal setting for that, because there are so many visual props that would remind them of episodes in their own life, that they might want to jot down these stories and pass on.
Now, we’re probably being distracted by the sound of the air conditioner, but that points out [laughs] a challenge now, but it also points out something special about this building—that the building itself can be used as a teaching tool, with the wonderful windows, and how they were used for light, as well as ventilation, and how the design of the building was also used to take advantage of cross- ventilation, but we obviously have a very loud air conditioner.
See
[laughs] Um, do you have a favorite room in the museum?
Fisher
I guess, being a teacher, this Turn of the Century Classroom is my absolute favorite room. Uh, I feel very much at home here, and, um, I have very happy memories of teaching in this room. I have very happy memories of teaching in other areas, but I’m the daughter of a teacher, and in many ways this reminds me of things my mother would tell me about.
See
Um, do students seem to get more out of some rooms in the museum than others, or does it just depend on the student, or all the rooms equally valuable?
Fisher
It depends on the students, and it depends on the preparation they have had before they had come here. I think, for me, the beauty of the hands-on experience is that students, who might not excel at the written word or reading in the traditional classroom, all can do very well here because of hands-on and verbal participation, but, um, I think—I think it depends on the student’s own interests, and, uh, again, it probably has a lot to do with the enthusiasm of the guide who is showing them the particular area. That might be a factor, as well.
See
Um, what advice would you give people who want to volunteer at the museum?
Fisher
Do it. Uh, the beauty of the Public History Center is that there are so many volunteer opportunities, not just for working with the students. Now, the main[?] one that I found most rewarding was working with the students and the exchange—the interaction—but there are jobs that are needed to be done behind the scenes. Whether it is inventorying the suitcases or books, or whether it is working with the archives, or whether it is working as a gardener in the teaching gardens. I think that there is—or a greeter. Oh, that is a wonderful job for someone who enjoys people, but really does not want to, uh, work with the students in the instructional program. That is a wonderful opportunity. So I really—that there is something here for everyone, and so, if someone is a little tentative about volunteering, I would suggest that they come and tour, and say, “Alright. This is what I like to do. What can I do to help you?”
See
Um, if you could describe your ideal future for the Public History Center and the Student Museum, what would it be?
Fisher
[laughs] For the instructional program to continue for fourth graders, but also for that program to be expanded, and again, during the time, I was here, I had the opportunity—we had year-round school. We had multi-age classes—that was a phase that the district was going through. I especially enjoyed working with the multi-age classes, because that meant that students came here one year and then they would come the following year, and so we could do different things. I also liked working with teachers on special programs, and I think this is where the Public History Center, working with UCF students, could do a great deal—is working with teachers collaborating—using the resources here at the Public History Center—to develop special programs. I would like to see more in-service staff development done with, um, teachers here. So that teachers, who are required to do certificate renewal, could take a course here at the Public History Center. Again, going back to what I had mentioned about community programs—and I hope that someday there is an elevator, so that we aren’t limited in the use of the auditorium and use of the, um, second level, but I just see this more as a very active center in the community and—where all of us can learn about changes in education and innovation in the education.
See
Um, what do you think is the ideal age for students to come to the Student Museum? I mean, we’ve heard about the fourth grade field trip. Is—is that about the ideal age or…
Fisher
Oh, I think it depends on what you are offering. I think that, uh, the fourth grade fit in with the Florida curriculum, but again, depending on what the teacher might be doing—or special programs that could be developed. You see, uh, at one time there was an eighth grade program here as well, and, um, due to budget cuts and so forth, that program had to be eliminated, and also, there were problems scheduling with the middle school schedule, but, um, I—and I have had the opportunity again with year-round education to work with senior high students. So this is the beauty of this facility. It can be taught at so many different levels, depending on where you’re putting your focus.
See
Um…
Fisher
I think everyone should come here and, as I said, I am delighted at the potential that I am seeing, the enthusiasm with those from UCF, uh, in transforming this into a Public History Center, and I’m delighted that the public will now have greater access to this facility.
See
Um, I’ve heard that the Public History Center serves—or has served—a lot of other purposes in the community, other than just as a museum and a teaching facility. I even heard a story about someone getting married here. Um, do you have any experiences with it in other capacities, other than as just the, uh, museum?
Fisher
Well, I was not involved with someone getting married here, but I know that it has been open, thanks to the Sanford Historic Trust, several years ago inviting the museum to be part of the annual tour. It was opened for that. So for—that would be more of a social, um, learning experience too, but I—I really do not know beyond that. I know students always want to know about ghosts. “Are there ghosts here at the Student Museum?” But I, um, don’t know about that.
See
Well, speaking of ghosts, um, do you have a favorite aspect of the history of this place? I mean, as a school, as Sanford Grammar, or, um…
Fisher
Uh, no. I do not. Uh, I think that could definitely be addressed by students who came here, and something that I found very rewarding was when reunion groups from what had been Sanford High School and now is Seminole High School, when they would have their reunions and request that the museum be open on the weekend, so that they could come back and visit. I enjoyed hearing the stories of that and since I had no grown up in the Sanford community. Um, I learned a lot from that, but, um, no. Nothing else I don’t think.
See
Um, so I’ve heard that there are a lot, um, of seasonal celebrations that take place here, um, especially around fall and things like that. Do you—do you go to those? Or…
Fisher
Well, in the past, I have volunteered with those, and, um, one of the favorite celebrations—it depends on how the, uh, calendar goes—is the Spring Fest around May Day, because when this was Sanford Grammar School, the May Day celebration was a major celebration for students here, and so—for several years, the Spring Fest has included that dancing of the May Pole, and that was of appeal to those who had gone here remembering their days as students.
See
Um, we’ve talked a lot about school-age children coming to the Student Museum and Public History Center. Um, is there a minimum age where it’s appropriate to bring children?
Fisher
Uh, I think it depends on the parents, who would be bringing them. Um, uh, I would think that a child from, I would say, maybe three on—although we have had them in strollers and so forth coming through, but, um, I—I think it depends on—are you talking about them coming just to visit the building, just to see the building or to participate in a program? I—I would think that three would be about the youngest, but it depends on the parents, and, um, what the children have been exposed to before.
See
Um, what about adults coming here? I mean, I know Student Museum sort of implies that it’s only for children, but do you think there’s something for adults also?
Fisher
Oh, absolutely, and, um, again, uh—going back to things that I remember—um, I remember, um, an adult friend of mine bringing her mother here, and the mother, uh, was quite elderly and had limited vision, but coming into this classroom and hearing the sound of the footsteps on the hardwood pine floor and so forth, and the ticking of the clock, and just feeling the chalkboards and so forth, brought back memories of her school days, and the mother just began sharing these stories that the daughter had never heard. So I think that this is a multi-generational location. Student Museum—remember that its origins are with the Seminole County Public Schools, so I think that that is larger, but there was another part to that name. It was the School Board of Seminole County’s Student Museum and Center for the Social Studies, and this goes back to the point that I was—wanted to make earlier—was that I think with, um, UCF now and with the emphasis on public history, that this is going to be more of a center for social studies and for adults to be involved.
See
Alright. Thank you so much for talking to me.
Fisher
Okay, thank you.
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 Garnett White. This interview is being conducted on October 13th, 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. Sir, could you tell us a little bit about yourself?
White
Well, yes. I was born in St. Augustine, Florida. My father was a butcher—or meat-cutter, I guess we would call it. We moved to Sanford when I was maybe three years old. I remember when I was four years old going to a birthday party to a neighbor girl—and as I’ve over the years have tried to think when that was. I believe I was about four years old. We lived on [West] Tenth Street in Sanford, and my father worked as a butcher—meat-cutter—and he moved here from southwest Georgia—called Pelham, Georgia—and he went to work here for a man from Pelham, Georgia, named Bluitt Stevens.
We lived on Tenth Street until I was in about second grade, and my father had a house built on Tenth and [South] Laurel Avenue, and he still worked for Mr. Stevens. Mr. Stevens owned a store in Downtown Sanford where the Colonial Room Restaurant is now, and it was called Triple S Groceteria—the red front store, and that time is about the time I started school, and I went to Southside Elementary [School], where my first grade teacher was a Mrs. Jacobs, and the principal was Mrs. Harrington. And I remember those times. I went up through the fourth grade. And in the second grade, Elizabeth Wigham was my teacher. And the third grade, was a lady named Bobbi Goff. And the fourth grade, was a lady named Bobbi Goff. And this was only about three—maybe four—blocks from my home, and back then, of course, you didn’t have buses like that, and I remember walking to school when I’m six years old, and of course today, they don’t allow that type of thing, but it was not out of the ordinary at all.
One memory I have of that is that the lunch. The lunches cost 11 cents. You got a blue ticket for five cents, and that gave you the food—a roll usually, amongst other things—and milk was six cents. That was a yellow ticket. And I think you could get all five for 25—all five of a week for 25 cents, as well as I remember. But most people brought their own lunches. They did buy milk for six cents. And that was kind of interesting.
This would have been in about 1940 or ’41, and the Second World War started in 1941, and I remember big piles of metal, particularly aluminum, and rubber. This was to help the war effort, with aluminum to build airplanes out of—and I don’t know what they did with the rubber. But that was my first recollection of playing baseball—or softball, I guess it was—was at Southside Elementary.
Then we, uh—my grandfather was from Athens, Georgia, and he had his arm taken off. He had cancer, and my mother went up there to take care of him for about six weeks, and I, of course, went with her, and so I went to school for that six weeks in Winterville, Georgia.
Of course, coming back to Sanford, continued with school at—we called it [Sanford] “Grammar School,” which is now the Student Museum on Seventh Street and Elm Avenue in Sanford. They’d talk about it being so old, and so on. Of course, that was 70 years ago almost, but it doesn’t look any different today than it did back then. And they’d talk about it being old, and so on and so forth. Didn’t mean anything to us. You know, you had a seat and that was it. You know, scribbling all over the desks with knives. So on. So, you know, times—it just did not mean anything to us, as far as how new something was, and apparently nowadays you got to have a new school, or they don’t—or the children don’t accomplish as much, I guess, is a word [laughs].
But then—about when I was 11 years old, I got a paper route. Remember, this is during the war—the Second World War. And I got a paper route delivering The Florida Times-Union, which is the Jacksonville paper. They weren’t—the Sanford paper came out in the afternoon, and it was very hard to get newspaper or newsprint, and presses would break down, and I delivered The Sanford Herald also, about that time, and they had brown paper. It looked like the brown paper that’s used by butchers to wrap meat in, and that was kind of odd. And I’ve talked to people in the last few years, and they remember the paper being printed on that brown paper.
But something that is really kind of interesting is, over the years, I have talked and had coffee with Senator Mac Cleaver, and we would always talk about our paper routes. He was older than I was, but it never changes. And we would talk about who lived in certain houses, and where they would leave the money for the newspaper, and they still—me being eight years younger than Mac—they still left it at the same place—on the banister, on the porch, that type of thing.
Of course, after that, we went to Sanford Junior High School, which was over on Ninth Street and Sanford Avenue, and I guess that’s when we started growing up a little bit, and getting around town on our bicycles more than we did when we were very young. But we would ride our bikes down to the lakefront—which is Lake Monroe, down where the motel is now—and we’d jump off the seawall. It was there at that time. We’d jump off. We’d swim out to one of the beacons or markers out in the water. Another time—me and another fellow—we swam across the lake all the way to the power plant, and truthfully, we walked most of the way. It was very shallow out in the middle. We didn’t really walk. We just kind of touched bottom, and my father picked us up on the other side at the power plant on the north side of Lake Monroe.
But those were good times. It was not out of the ordinary to go downtown and walk around. Go through the alleys and see what people—or I’m talking about stores—had thrown away and did we want it, and that sort of thing, you know. It was—I really remember one time we went behind a place called [B. L.] Perkins. That was a men’s store. And there was a book of swaths of material that you could pick out what you—the men—would want their suits made out of. And we thought that—they were little old things about three by three inches, about three inches—and we thought that was a big deal. We took those home, and I think our parents threw them away. Anyway, as time goes on, in high school, went further from home, and went through all of the things, I guess, that happen in high school. And immediately after that, I joined the Navy and spent my hitch on board a fleet OR, and this would have been in 1950-51. But going all over town with paper routes, you just got to where you saw things you would never have seen, or people that you talked to or knew—you knew who they were, uh, if you didn’t have a paper route.
And then, as time goes on and I got out of the Navy, I got my—went to the real estate—school of real estate law—and, uh, got my broker’s license. And shortly thereafter, I met my wife, my now-wife. And we got married and had three children. As far as the real estate business is concerned, that was 50—I still have a license—and that’s 56 years ago. That’s a long time. I actually made a living at it. Only way I’ve made a living, up until about 6-7 years ago. And I’m 78 now, so it was time. But in the meantime, there’s quite a bit of property—not houses, but I never was much in the house business—that I’ve sold over that period of time three different times. There was one piece of property I sold three times. All three times were to people named Hall, and that they had never known each other, of course.
Morris
Of course.
White
So it’s interesting. And land would sell for—I can remember appraising. I did quite a bit of appraisals for the banks in Sanford and the First Federal Savings & Loan, and that really got me back into going to places that you normally wouldn’t go if you weren’t in the real estate business. As time goes on, I was handling acreage, as I said, and they pretty well quit farming in Sanford.
Uh, farming as they knew it at that time, which was produce—which was celery. You know, at one time, they said that Sanford—Seminole County I guess—was the celery capital of the world. And it was actually a picture in one of the school books that said “harvesting celery in Sanford.” I remember that. But after the war, they—the farming kind of petered out, because it all went to the muck, and the muck means that you don’t have to spend as much money on fertilizer. And the type soils that we have around Sanford—the farming areas—was good to hold the roots in place and that’s all. And that’s come from the farmers that said, “No, you got to fertilize.”
So muck farms in Zellwood and down in Lake Okeechobee pretty well had an end to the farming in the area. It’s my understanding from the owner of Chase and Co[mpany], which was a very large company—probably the largest farmer in Central Florida back in the ‘20s and—but the last celery grown in the Sanford area was in 1975. Now that came from the owner, president of Chase and Co., and his name was Sydney Chase—Sydney [Octavius] Chase, Jr. His father[1] and his father’s brother[2] are the ones that started Chase and Co.
Something really interesting is that, of course, all of this product had to be shipped by railroad. You know, you didn’t have trucks like you have today. You just didn’t put things on a truck, haul it to New York. It all had to go to—through the railroad, and so most every packinghouse—that type of thing—was located where it could be sent by the railroad. And celery—and cabbage, cucumbers, all of those things—required refrigeration. Well, if you’ll think back to 1925, you didn’t have no refrigeration. But they was able to make ice in big 300-pound “slabs” I’ll call them. Chase and Co. had an icehouse out on the east side of Sanford. There was another one in Ransidey[?], which is in Monroe, Florida, just west of Sanford on the railroad. And you had railroad cars called “reefer” cars, and that stood for “refrigerator.” And they would put these big 300-pound slabs of ice in these railroad cars. They were all painted yellow, and during the summer, there was a siding going—railroad siding going from Sanford Avenue out to the Chase washhouse, which is on Cameron Avenue. And that’s a long ways. And they would store these reefer cars all summer long, because they had no use for them except to ship produce, and of course, you didn’t grow produce in the summertime. Come summertime, in like May or something, would be the last that they grew until next fall and next winter. But I remember all those yellow reefer cars there, and I’m sure many other people that was[sic] out in that area remember just sitting on the siding and waiting on the next year.
But there was a lot of—another thing is interesting is it seems as though to me that the people that owned automobiles—and their kids went to school with me—they were farmers. And other people didn’t have automobiles. My father did not have an automobile until 1946, which was right after the war, and things became available to sell, particularly meat products.
But all of that—getting back to the real estate business, I would come across and I knew a lot of people in the citrus business. And as time went on, I sold some citrus groves, and I bought some citrus groves, and I leased several citrus groves. And our—my wife and I’s—two children kind of grew up knowing what citrus was, and you could go on the Internet under White’s Red Hill Groves and read about us, and it’ll tell you all you need to know about our family and the citrus business. But it’s been 29 years now since we purchased a gift fruit packinghouse called Red Hill Groves. So we have set out new trees and taken care of old trees, and picked and packed, and shipped citrus all over the United States. I would say there’s not a state we haven’t shipped fruit to. But times have changed considerably, since probably 1985 and things started booming—this is because of Disney—and started booming.
And another thing that’s kind of interesting here is that when I went to high school, Seminole High School had a hundred people in each class. And Crooms Academy had maybe 30, and Oviedo [High School] may have 15, and Longwood, which is called Lyman High School, may have 15. And look at it today, there’s what? Eleven high schools, each one of them got three thousand in that school. So that’s really what started happening during those years, and those of course, just kind of bloomed.
Really interested—I was very active in the civic things in the city—Chamber of Commerce, the Jaycees,[3] and that type of thing. As time goes on, I think I’ve been through four—they call them—they don’t call them “depressions,” whatever they call them.
Morris
Recessions?
White
Recessions. And I’ve been through four of them. And I can remember trying to sell houses for a hundred dollars down and making a commission. There ain’t much left to make a commission out of. But times would get better, and then you’d start selling again. People would start buying again. I guess time is going to tell about the one we’re in now in 2011.
But anyway, it was a good life that I lived in Sanford. It is much different. Traffic, as everybody knows, gets on your nerves. But all three of our children live in Sanford, while our packinghouse is in Orlando. The boys go back and forth every day, and our daughter works for Bayer Corporation in the animal health division.
So anyway, we—my wife and I—both feel that our time growing up in Sanford, and spending our entire life here, except for those maybe three years, has been good, and as good as any place we could have settled. I don’t know that we ever considered moving from Sanford, neither of us. But I guess that’s pretty well the story.
Morris
I have a couple questions, sir.
White
Sure.
Morris
Okay, sir. You talked a great deal earlier about the paper route you ran as a kid.
White
Right.
Morris
Was that a great experience for you? Because you spent a lot of time discussing how you met and saw a lot of things.
White
Oh, well, sure! There’s a little story that goes along with that, was we delivered The Florida Times-Union, and we had about 11 or 12 paper boys. And you’d go up and down. Each one of us had about a hundred customers.
Morris
Okay.
White
And you’d go up and down the streets, and there was a policeman that walked the streets at night named Harriet. And Mr. Harriet had a dog that went with him, because Mr. Harriet walked up and down the alleys, and all the way generally throughout the whole downtown area. Well, a friend of mine who lived four or five houses from me had a dog, and the dog would go with him on his paper route. Well, it seems as though Mr. Harriet’s dog would jump on him and bite him and all of this sort of stuff. So my friend bought a collar that had, oh, pieces of metal like a nail sticking out the side—sticking on it. Well, he sharpened those up. And we’re all sitting there one morning, waiting for him to come with his dog. He’d always come around this corner—First Street and Oak Avenue—and he would come around that corner. Well, we’re waiting to see Mr. Harriet’s dog jump on this dog’s neck with those sharp barbs, and he did and he went off just howling. And Mr. Harriet came out. There was a bakery there, and everybody—paper boys—we would go in there five o’clock in the morning and get day-old donuts, and so would Mr. Harriet, and he come out of there just raising Cain about who hit his dog. But that was interesting.
And I guess when I was a senior in high school, I had a car route, and I went to Monroe, Paola, went all the way to Wekiva River, and back up through Monroe. And a man named Bass—he was the last one on my route. And he was a farmer, so he told the paper manager that I was just getting there too late, that if I couldn’t get there five o’clock in the morning, that he wasn’t going to take the paper no more. So I had to rearrange my route so I could get him first instead of last. But that was interesting in that too. And the people—there’s still people around that deliver papers. We talk about it, every now and then, when you see somebody. But that was good experience, really was.
Morris
And you did that from when you were younger all the way through high school, sir?
White
Not all that time, no. But I got a paper route when I was 11 years old, so that’s gonna put me in the fifth grade. And I remember having a paper route in the seventh grade. I don’t think I had any until I was senior, from the seventh until that time.
Morris
Oh, okay, sir.
White
Because like, a lot of—something very interesting. I worked in a grocery store.
Morris
Okay, sir.
White
And you worked Thursday morning from about four o’clock in the morning, and Friday afternoon, and all day Saturday, for four dollars and something. Well, a friend of mine was caddying at the golf course, and he said, “Oh,” you know, “I don’t work but 4-5 hours and I make more than that.” So I went out and started caddying. So I caddied for several years.
Morris
Oh, okay, sir.
White
Because you made more money. You carry those bags around. If you did it twice, they called it “double looping,” you made more money than you would at the grocery store. But anyway, I think everybody sooner or later worked in a grocery store.
Morris
I don’t think that’s changed much, sir.
White
Huh?
Morris
I don’t think that’s changed much. I’ve worked in a couple grocery stores.
White
No. No. I see the kids in there now, and they’re—course we didn’t stay there until all night long like they do now. They put up stock now at night, and we didn’t do that. Anyway, it was good. Good times.
Morris
All right. You mentioned you were in the Navy, sir. How long were you in the Navy for?
White
I was in the Navy for one hitch. I was a quartermaster.
Morris
Okay, and one hitch is, uh...
White
One hitch is when I was on something called “minority cruise,” and that you means you join after you’re 18 and you get out when you’re 21, instead of a flat three years—four years, whatever it is. And I joined when I was a senior in high school, and this wasn’t too long after the war. This would be in 1950.
Morris
Okay.
White
And the war was over in ’45. So anyway—but I was a quartermaster. A quartermaster is someone who does signals and navigation, that sort of thing. And a fleet oiler is different than a tanker. A tanker hauls fuel from one place to another, and a[sic] oiler refuels ships at sea when you’re both underway—you’re both moving. And that’s what an oiler is. You still have oiler today, and always will, because you need it in the middle of the ocean just as you do alongside a dock. And I liked that—and I may have stayed in longer except the ship was going on Operation Deep Freeze, and that was in Antarctica, and I wasn’t going there, ‘cause I’d heard the stories about it before. Everything’s full of ice and all of that. Anyway, that was my military experience.
Morris
Did you travel anywhere on that, at that time, sir?
White
Oh yeah, sure. We went—first time when I went on board there, we went to New York City, which of course, here I am. Never been to New York City. We stayed there for like two days. Then we went to the Caribbean [Sea], down to South America to the Azores. Just that type—wherever. Maybe just sit out in the middle of the ocean waiting on a convoy to come that needed fuel. I mean, that was our job.
Morris
Right, sir. Did you enjoy your time in the military—the Navy?
White
Sure.
Morris
Just didn’t want to go to Antarctica.
White
I didn’t want to go to Antarctica, and probably if I’d have stayed in longer than that, I’d have stayed. I would have stayed to retire. But I didn’t, and not been disappointed in that at all.
Morris
Okay, sir. You also mentioned you worked with civic duties for a while. So tell me a little more about that.
White
Well, 1963, I started civic-type stuff. Well, I was a Boy Scout. And I’ll have to go through the Boy Scouts [of America] first. But the Boy Scouts—I was a[sic] Eagle Scout, and I worked at summer camp as a waterfront director-type person. I guess I was 16 then, maybe 17. Sixteen and seventeen. I worked two years, one at Camp Wewa over in Apopka. The other one was Camp La-No-Che. Excuse me, Camp La-No-Che wasn’t open then. See, that’s 50 years ago, and most people never heard of Doe Lake [Recreation Area], and Doe Lake was in Ocala [National] Forest. And that was a Boy Scout camp and I worked there at that time. But I was a[sic] Eagle Scout, and that was a big deal to me. And we didn’t have many Eagle Scouts around here. Well, around anywhere. That was good.
Morris
I’m sorry, sir?
White
Yeah. You asked a question before that. What was that?
Morris
Your civic duties, sir.
White
Oh. Well, in the Boy Scouts, believe it or not, we actually did a lot of things civic-wise. But I was president of the Sanford-Seminole County Jaycees[4] in 1963, and the Jaycees were very active at that time.
Morris
The Jaycees, sir?
White
Junior Chamber of Commerce.
Morris
Gotcha, sir.
White
Okay. [laughs] And—very active. Had maybe 150 members, and had maybe 150 projects. These were things that, uh—and that was a big time in my life. For instance, we had a Christmas parade that we sponsored and worked. That was the big project for the year—the Christmas parade. And the year I was president, we had 11 bands, and nowadays, if you have one, you got a bunch of them. We had a hundred people working, doing whatever it took to make the parades. But it was always that way. And I have paperwork to that. So—I say “paperwork”—we made booklets of our projects. Some of them. I don’t have all of them. But it was a[sic] active time for people up to the age of 36. When you were thirty-six, then you were no longer…
Morris
Junior.
White
Invited, I guess, to be a Jaycee. And then, I was president of the Seminole County union of the American Cancer Society, and I was president of the Greater Sanford [Regional] Chamber of Commerce. Prior to that, it was the Sanford-Seminole County Chamber of Commerce, and I was a director for 25 years of the Chamber. So, you know, there were those. I was a bank director for 15 years. Served on the board of Seminole State College, as vice-chairman of the board for however many years. I don’t remember. So that was civic-type stuff.
Morris
Okay, sir. Sounds like you were very busy.
White
Yeah. I was busy. I was busy. Knew a lot of people. Most of them are dead now, but, uh, and I’ll join them before too many years. Maybe tomorrow [laughs].
Morris
That’s why we’re getting this down today, sir.
White
Get that out today. Okay.
Morris
Could you tell me a little bit about your family? Your wife’s name, how you met her, and then your children’s names.
White
Yes. I’d gotten out of the Navy, and just got out really, and me and another fellow went to Leesburg High School—to a football game. This was in September, before—after—I had gotten out of the service in August, I guess. Anyway, this girl was a cheerleader, and had black hair. And afterwards, you always used to have dances always—and out of town also. And back then, the girl cheerleaders would always go to the dance, and so me and this fellow went also. And I met her, and then—from then on, had a few dates with her. And anyway, three or four years later, we got married. We have two sons. One’s 54, one’s 53. Have a daughter about 44—something. And the boys run the packinghouse. Have for 20. I say “running” —that’s only partially, mostly. They’ve—that’s 29 years. And a daughter that works for Bayer in the animal health division. Anyway. I guess that’s it. And got grandchildren [laughs].
Morris
How many grandchildren, sir?
White
Well, three. Three boy grandchildren. And one of them works for the city in Palm Coast, and the other one works for the car place—Gibson [Truck World]—down here, and the other one’s thirteen. He goes to school.
Morris
Okay. Is it okay if we get your wife’s name and your children’s names?
White
Paulette. Paulette. My wife’s name was Paulette Casen. It’s Paulette White, of course. And the children are Ed [White], Ted [White], and Judy [White]. And that’s their names.
Morris
Ed, Ted, and Judy?
White
Yes. Eddie, Teddy. [laughs] Yes. Ed, Ted, and Judy.
Morris
Do they still respond to Eddie and Teddy?
White
Oh, yeah, sure. Sure, sure, sure. Matter of fact, people their age call them Eddie and Teddy. But, you know, they have a lot of friends, since they’ve lived here.
Morris
Their whole lives, sir?
White
Yeah. They’ve lived here except when they went to college. Eddie graduated from Stetson [University]. And Judy graduated from [University of] Florida. One of the grandsons graduated from Florida and has a degree in architecture. I was telling a story to a fellow about architecture, and I was telling him I knew nothing about computer[sic]. I do know how to turn it on. But I said I have a grandson that has a degree in architecture, and he has never picked up a pen or a pencil. It’s all down on the computer, every bit of it. It’s kind of hard for people my age to think that—that you’re actually gonna draw a plan for a building with a computer, instead of a pencil [laughs].
Morris
I gotcha, sir.
White
Yeah.
Morris
The, uh—one of the things you mentioned earlier that really caught my attention was you said a lot of farmers had cars. Is that—do I remember that correctly?
White
That’s correct.
Morris
Were a lot of the farmers well-off, or was there...
White
During certain periods, they were well-off. Yes. And it was told to me that a farmer in the late ‘30s could make a living on ten acres of celery, and that’s not very much, but he couldn’t do that today. Same token. I’ve sold—I’ve sold property to people that owned an orange grove and did all of the work their self, and they had 20 acres, and they made a good living. They had a car, and made a good living on 20 acres. But they did all the work their self. They didn’t have somebody else doing the work.
Morris
Right.
White
And so, you know, there’s[sic] certain jobs that—if you’re cut out for it. Not everybody’s cut out to be a farmer. A lot of people are going to have to start thinking about it though, because somebody’s got to grow food to eat.
Morris
Sir, and I do like to eat.
White
And everybody likes to eat.
Morris
Yes, sir.
White
And the truth of the matter is there’s a lot of fussing going on now. People don’t like—well, one thing is dust. They don’t like the dust that farmers create when they plow their field. That’s the EPA—Environmental Protection Agency—and they want to stop that. Well, I don’t know how you’re gonna eat if you stop farm dust. But I’m talking out of bounds here.
Morris
Still interesting to hear, sir.
White
But that’s the way farmers feel. Although we consider ourselves farmers, we’re not farmers in the cattle business or corn business. We’re in the citrus business. But I guess you could say we could be in the citrus business without growing any of our own. We could buy it from somebody else, and pack it, ship it, and that would work, you know. But we do it all.
Morris
Okay, sir. My last question, if it’s all right with you, could you just give me a brief overview of how you actually grow citrus—the process for it.
White
Well, you plant a tree, and you grow it, and it ends up and blooms, and has fruit on it. That’s about it. It’s, you know—it’s just like any farming, and I think that’s what you’d have to say. It’s, you know—you’ve got to prepare the soil, if you want to call it. In the citrus business, you plant small trees—three feet tall—and after about five years, they have some oranges on them. Not very many, but enough, considered that you’ve got some fruit. And the maximum is about 20 years. And during this period of time, you fertilize them, and you prune them, and you just generally take care of them like a baby.
And things change in the business, such as—used to plant them 35 feet apart, and 35 feet in all directions, because the way that you get the weeds down was with a disc or harrow. So you went up and down the rows in one direction, and then across the rows in another directions to kill the weeds. And nowadays, you don’t do it that way. You plant them 10 feet apart in a row, and then you use chemicals to kill the weeds. And you also hedge them, because you don’t have that 35 feet. You have 10 feet. And you got big machines with big, round saws on it—three foot—and they’re spinning, and you go up and down the rows and make a hedge out of it. And that’s what’s really changed in the citrus business in the way that you grow citrus.
Plus, used to—you didn’t have very many ways to keep the fruit clean. Everybody wants to have a blemish-free piece of fruit. It don’t work that way. A friend of mine who used to disc and take care of the growth—first one I ever had—named Carl McWaters. His family was in the business, and he was a caretaker. He said, “Well, Mr. White,” said, “You know, my father worked for that packinghouse over there in Umatilla.” And whenever they had a—one of the diseases—not a disease—one of the bugs that you have. It’s called a “rust mite.” And a rust mite makes fruit look rusty. And he said, “Whenever we’d have a bad rust mite year, we’d go ahead and ship them up north anyway, and called them ‘Golden Rusty.’” Which made them sound a whole lot better than a rusty piece of fruit. So that was kind of interesting. Because they didn’t have any way to kill those rust mites.
And nowadays, you know, it’s an entire—oh, I don’t, what I want to say it. Crop protection, whether it’s citrus or other crops. It’s a whole world of taking care of those problems. In the United States and the agricultural business, the idea is to get rid of a problem instead of live with the problem. And that’s true with a lot of things, not just citrus. But, you know, if you got rust mites, you know—“Well, let’s get rid of those rust mites.” So you got 50 different companies out there trying to have chemicals to get rid of them. In a lot of countries that grow citrus, they don’t do that. They just live with it. And I see nothing wrong with that. But that’s kind of interesting too—how that kind of thing works. But, you know, the companies—some of the largest companies in the world are agricultural chemical companies.
Morris
Okay, sir.
White
Anyway.
Morris
That was it for my questions, actually. Did you have anything else you’d like to say?
White
No. Not really. I may have said a whole lot more than I should have, to start with. But, uh, anyway…
Morris
Well, sir, it’s all great. Thank you very much, sir.
White
All right. Nice to talk.
Velásquez
So this is Sharon Karraker Driskell. And this interview is about her memories of Sanford Grammar [School], which she attended for the fifth and sixth grade?
Driskell
Fifth and sixth grade. Right.
Velásquez
Around the year 1954-1955?
Driskell
Right. Well actually it was ‘53-‘54 combination, and then ‘55? ‘54-‘55 in the sixth grade.
Velásquez
And you were born in Kansas?
Driskell
Right.
Velásquez
And today is October the 12th, 2012 and we’re at Sharon’s home. My name is Daniel Velásquez. Sharon, can you tell me about yourself, your childhood, and your background?
Driskell
Well, my background comes that I came from a farm in Kansas, and we moved to Florida, because my father just couldn’t make it on the farm. We came down here, settled in Sanford, started school at Southside, went to Sanford Grammar School. I went to Sanford Middle School and Seminole High School. First graduating class from the school what they call the “new school” now. But I am a housewife, I worked in the Seminole County [Public] School[s] system in this, uh, that Keith Elementary—Winter Springs-Idlewild. My husband was a fireman at the [John F.] Kennedy Space Center. We raised two children here.
Velásquez
Okay. What were your experiences prior to coming to Sanford Grammar?
Driskell
Prior to coming to Sanford Grammar, I went to Southside. So I was—I lived very close to there actually. Basically two blocks away from there, and I would walk to school. So when I got to go to Sanford Grammar, I thought I was really doing good[sic], ’cause I was getting to walk a little farther away from Mom and Dad. So it was really exciting for me to walk to school.
Velásquez
Um, so you grew up mostly in Sanford?
Driskell
Yeah.
Velásquez
Okay.
Driskell
Yeah. I lived off of Celery Avenue. My father owned a business at the corner of [South] Sanford [Avenue] and Celery. It was a Standard Oil [Company] station, and I lived just across the street from there. And then we moved down on Randolph Street, which was way on farther south from there and—yeah. I grew up in Sanford, worked at [J. G.] McCrory’s dime store—Downtown Sanford— when I was an[sic] teenager. I mean Sanford’s just home, and I love it. I’ve always loved it.
Velásquez
Okay. Can you describe what your typical day at Sanford Grammar was like?
Driskell
[laughs] That’s a lot of years back. You’re asking almost the impossibility. I remember—the one thing that I did remember was the teacher that I had there. Her name was Miss Sharon. And there—well, I thought it was so odd that her name was my name. And it just—she was a very nice lady. A very young lady— young teacher.
Um, we didn’t have a lunchroom per se, like they have today, where food was served to you—that I remember, because my mother always packed my lunch and I carried it with me, and I was a picky eater I guess—I don’t remember, I don’t remember that much back.
But I remember the programs that we had and the auditorium upstairs. I had the first room that I was in was downstairs, and then the next year I went—I got to go upstairs to the first room on the left-hand side up there. And I thought that was really, really cool, because I’d never been in a school that had an upstairs before. And this was very awesome to me to be able to be into a big school, because the school, where I was raised—went to is in Kansas was a one-room school house first through eighth grade. And so that was really weird to come down here to Florida, and be able to go to a school that had separate rooms for separate grades, and then to be able to go to Sanford Grammar, and be able to go upstairs. That—that just was neat for me.
But it was a just a typical day at school. I mean you get there, you do the Pledge of Allegiance, you did class prayers. Then you did your work, you went to lunch, you got to go to P.E. [Physical Education]. Outside, at the playground, was out in front of the school. You crossed the little—there was never a road there, but it was like a street, in front of which is there now. And you would go out—to the front was your playground. Lunchroom was in the back. It was just a wooden building that was built there. We went out and eat lunch out there. I mean just a typical school day. Except for when we got into sixth grade.
Yeah. We had—we had to do the maypole [laughs]. That was awful [laughs], I didn’t really care for doing the maypole. You had to dance in—and I was not a small girl. I was on the large side, so skipping in to do the maypole was not my thing [laughs]. And the boy I was with was a little on chunky side too, so we really didn’t make a good pair to go skipping in to do a maypole. But I survived it. That was probably the most horrifying experience I ever had at Sanford Grammar. Other than that, it was pretty good. I didn’t have a problem with going there.
Velásquez
The maypole was a dance, then?
Driskell
It was a dance. They had a large pole, and you had ribbons that came out from it. And as you danced around it, you went in and out. I don’t think they do it at all anymore, I don’t know. But you would go in and out, and as you did it you were wrapping the maypole in the way that you folded the ribbons. And it—you had to learn to go in and out at the right time to make the ribbons come out smooth, ’cause if you did it wrong—and Lord knows we did it wrong a lot, because it took forever to get it down smooth—but when you got through you would have a pole that the ribbons would be wound perfectly like weaving, and they would lay just as flat up against that pole as you could. It was beautiful. And it was done to music. And it was beautiful, but it was hard. And it was the worst experience I think I ever did[sic], because I didn’t, I didn’t want to do it. And I couldn’t get out of it but, it was just very hard to do. And once you learned it you know it was easy then, like anything else that you learn today. But it was fun. I mean after it was over with it was fun, but not—not when doing it.
Velásquez
Okay. So what was a happy part? What was the happiest part of each day in school?
Driskell
My teachers.
Velásquez
Yeah?
Driskell
They, they—I had really some of the best teachers my whole experience in Seminole County. I’ve—one of the few kids—I think that I only had one teacher that I ever remember having a problem with, and that was in later high school. But my teachers—Miss Sharon. She sticks—sticks in my mind more than anybody, because she was so gentle and so easy to come up to and explain things to you and draw the good part of you out. The teachers were wonderful. It was just a very good experience there. Very good experience.
Velásquez
Do you do you know if Miss Sharon, um…
Driskell
I don’t know what ever happened to her.
Velásquez
Okay.
Driskell
I don’t. I would love to have known what happened to her. She was a beautiful person.
Velásquez
What kind of things did you do for fun in school?
Driskell
In school?
Velásquez
Mm-hmm.
Driskell
Well, I didn’t do anything to get in trouble. I know that. But we did a lot of art work. We had an art teacher, and we did a lot of art work. And—which that really was the one thing that I did enjoy, because I—later in life, painted pictures and did a lot of crafts and had my own business for a while and crafty partners. And so I—just doing crafts was my—was my—the art classes was my biggest thing that I enjoyed the most. I enjoyed making things. I still do [laughs]. That’s— but, you know, school was school, like any other kid would say. You still had the reading and writing and arithmetic. But they teach it so much different back then than they teach it today, because I can’t understand any of these things that the young people learn—try—they try to teach you today. I mean I’m lost. But we had basic reading, basic math, basic spelling. You know, and it—the teachers went out of their way to make sure that it went in and stayed. And to me, I think that’s lost, and we need to go back to that. To the basics.
Velásquez
Okay. What are some of your memorable experiences?
Driskell
The good ones? [laughs].
Velásquez
Any.
Driskell
Oh, honey, I’ve been trying to think of that for days ever since you called me and, you know, it’s—when you go back that far it’s hard to pull up what was some of the good experiences. One thing that I always enjoyed was of course P.E. [physical education] like anybody else. I got out with my friends and got to play. But they had this round—I don’t even know what it was called, —but it was round and you’d jump on it and people would push you, and you know, and you just keep going around, which I dearly loved and I would spend all my P.E. time right there, so long as I could get away with it. But they course—they would make you play baseball and all of this other little games things, you know, but that was my favorite thing. It—when I got outside, I head right for that little—it’s like a tilt-a-whirl [laughs]. But it would just go round and round, and I would just love to sit on that thing and go. And it—it was fun. It was my—my favorite enjoyment. Of course, we had swings and teeter-totters and all these things that, a lot of them were built by parents that put ’em out there. And businesses that would donate to the school. But um, we just had a nice playground and I enjoyed that. ’Course you know your studies are studies so—and you know, enjoyable memories. It’s just hard to remember back that far to remember what you enjoyed. Being with my friends, playin’.
Velásquez
Speaking of friends, of your friends, do you keep in touch with any?
Driskell
Yeah, I do. Matter of fact, Bonnie Haskuns Brown is one of my closest friends. She lives in North Florida. I stay in touch with her. ’Course some of my friends have died. I used to be the head of taking care of the class reunions for Seminole High School—my class of ’61 —until I got where I couldn’t take care of that anymore. But yeah I stay in touch with a lot of them. A lot of them on Facebook, a lot of them on e-mail, and some of them just call—just call. But yeah, I stayed in touch with a lot of them. The only person, you know, I would like to know what happened with was Jim Jimenes, and he’s the young man that danced with me on the maypole. I don’t know where he went or what happened to him. But that I would like to know where he went. That would be neat to find out. But yeah. I stay in touch with all of—all of ‘em. Going to school that long with them you kind of develop that bond that you stay together. Especially when you start out 2nd, 3rd, 4th, 5th—all the way through graduation. I mean, I been out of school 51 years. A long time. Long time.
Velásquez
So most of these friends you had through Sanford Grammar and beyond?
Driskell
Yes, yes. I stayed I kept well Bonnie, and I have been friends for 50—54-55 years. And our kids grew up together. It was a lifetime friendship with her. And then I had another friend that passed away, but we stayed together for over 50 years. You—back then you built a relationship and you kept it. Not—not so much like they do today. Not so much like my children. They don’t have contact with the kids they graduated with. But back then, smaller groups—close into town, most of all the kids lived right in town and in Sanford and most of us walked to school. And that was because you see each other walking to school, you see each other walking home, you know you were lived in the close neighborhoods, you had, you developed a deeper friendship than where the kids of today do, where they get on a bus or a car or whatever, and go away. But we spent time going to school together, and going home from school together, so we were together most of our life. So you don’t lose those kind of friends, you keep ‘em. At least I did [laughs].s
Velásquez
Um, what was your favorite place in the school building?
Driskell
Favorite place in the school building. . .
Velásquez
Is there a place that stands out to you?
Driskell
Yeah. The auditorium always did, and I don’t know why. Um, ’course we did our class programs and stuff like every other school’d do, but it was so big. And I think that was because I had never been in a place that big. I grew up in on the farm and walked to school the one-room school, and this was such a big place to me. I was a little girl it was just chuckles everything about Sanford was big. I came from the country in a little town that probably had about 150 people in it to this big town chuckles to this big school. It was just fascinating to me. I liked the auditorium. Of course I loved the playground. And anybody loved lunch [laughs]. You always looked forward to going to lunch. But the auditorium was my favorite place. I loved going up the stairs. That’s—it’s such a weird thing to think about, you know, going up stairs. I lived in a—I lived in a two-story house on the farm, but it wasn’t big like this. And this was big, and it was fascinating to go upstairs. Stupid, I know, but that’s just the way I feel about it [laughs].
Velásquez
So what were the other students like?
Driskell
Like me. Common. We—there was no—there was no upper class, lower class. All that changed when you got into high school. But when you—when you went to school at the Southside and Sanford Grammar and the middle school they were all—well they were all alike. Nobody had tried to impress anybody. We were just all common, average, peop—kids. ‘Course when you get into high school that’s when their personalities start changing and you start getting little clique groups that hang around together, but the kids at Sanford Grammar we were just a family of kids. We all got along. You rarely ever saw anybody get into some serious trouble. I don’t remember ever seeing anybody of my friends that got into trouble. I never got into trouble, ’cause I always knew the consequences at home. That made you change, watch what you did. But, um, they were just common kids. Just simple. Live simple. We all went to church. We all you know went to school. We all obeyed our parents. We had a great time we used our imagination rather than computers and stuff like they do today. I mean we were just common kids. I don’t know how else to say it.
Velásquez
What kinds of things were on students minds back then?
Driskell
Well we didn’t think of anything like the—the kids of today think about, because we didn’t think about politics or—or taxes or any of that kind of stuff we just—I don’t know what you would say we thought about, because I—I really can’t say that it was anything that we thought about other than making sure our homework was done, making sure we did our chores, making sure that we didn’t do anything that ticked our parents off [laughs] or the teachers. But I mean we really didn’t—factor in outside things into our minds at that point in our life. It wasn’t important. It didn’t impact us. We went to school. We did what we were supposed to do. We did—we went home. We did what we were supposed to do, and that’s it. We didn’t nothing impacted us.
Velásquez
There were no events outside of your normal routine that that affected your life?
Driskell
That affected my life?
Velásquez
At the time?
Driskell
You know, I can’t think of a thing right now. Probably a hundred things would come to me at another point, but right now I can’t think of a thing that impacted or changed my life in any way while I was at Sanford Grammar, because it was just an enjoyable time. I mean there was no—I had no problems in my life that made me have an impact on me. It was just good times.
Velásquez
And you weren’t aware of anything else outside…
Driskell
Not outside, no. No. The town was—it was a great town. You could walk to school and not be afraid of anything. You didn’t have to worry about —your parents didn’t worry. On Saturdays, we’d walk to the movie theater and paid nine to ten cents to get in. Paid ten cents for a drink and popcorn. But I mean, you—you could go to school and not have to worry about somebody messing with you or getting you going there. There was no problems at that period of time. You’re talking about the early ‘50s and it was just a beautiful time for children to grow up, and I was lucky to have lived in the time span that I did. I’m grateful.
Velásquez
You always felt safe?
Driskell
I did. I always felt safe. And I never—my father’s business was the corner of [South] Sanford [Avenue] and Celery [Avenue]. And I don’t know if you know where that’s at, but it’s— there’s a lot of black neighborhood behind my father’s business. Ninety percent of my father’s business was that. They were very nice to us. We had—Sanford was never known for having that kind of problems—racial problems or anything like that. Sanford was a beautiful, quiet, peaceful. People got along. People respected each other kind of community, and that flowed over into the school system. You had teachers that were respectful that did what they were supposed to was hired to do. They taught the children they made the children feel safe. I mean, it was it was the best time of life to grow up, because you didn’t have what young people have today hanging over your heads. It was just beautiful. I’m—I’m grateful for my years from Southside to Sanford Grammar to middle school to high school. I had the best time of my life and never was afraid anywhere in Sanford. I loved it. I loved school. Other than doing that maypole [laughs]. That was the one thing I didn’t want to do and that teacher was determined I was gonna do it. I learned it. And I don’t regret it, but I wish it was a memory I could click out. Now I loved going to school. I loved going there. I never thought I would be the type person that would—into my adulthood— would go back and work in the school system, but I did and I don’t know if that had—because I had such a good experience going to school from all the schools I went to the teachers that I had if that’s what influenced my life, I don’t know, but I loved working with children. The teachers I had loved working with children.
Driskell
And Miss Sharon was one that I just—I loved her. She was just so good at what she did. And if she was the one that influenced me, well God bless her, ’cause she did a good job. She did a good job. It was—it was a good experience. I have no complaints about my school years.
Velásquez
Miss Sharon—did she teach a specific subject?
Driskell
No. Back then you taught—you learned everything in one room. She taught you math, the reading, everything was taught in one room. The only time that you ever went out anywhere was music or P.E., and I don’t remember us having a P.E. teacher. Miss Sharon was out on the—on the class. I don’t even remember who the other teacher was that I had. Now isn’t that awful? Because she made such an impression on me, I couldn’t get the other one to come into my mind.
But we didn’t have all the programs that they had—the teachers—that they had. The one teacher you had that was your homeroom school classroom and that’s where you went. And she taught you everything and she had set up a certain time slots that’s what you went into. And you had a book for every subject. And, we didn’t have the home, you know—we had homework, but not the homework. We didn’t have to lug our books back and forth to school and backpack—you were taught at school and what little you had at home was well you—like making a book I remember making a book at Sanford Grammar about my family and I cut pictures out of magazines and “this is my mom” and “this is my dad.”
‘Course they always looked better than your mom and dad did, ’cause you always tried to find—and when it came to finding one for you, you made sure you had a one that looked good and then all my brothers and sisters and I drew pictures of my house and all this kind of stuff. It’s here somewhere. I don’t know where packed away somewhere. But I mean you always that that’s the kind of homework you had. It wasn’t the kind of homework that that the kids have today. You know, all the math problems and all that stuff, because that was taught in school. And you didn’t do that at home. They—other things—other projects you did at home. Like I did one on Florida and I got a map and I drew— found pictures of alligators and all sorts of weird things, you know, to put into it. But that was the kind of homework you had. It wasn’t regular classwork. What you did in class math reading you did in class. Now you would have a book to read occasionally and book reports due on it, but it was most of the work was done in classroom, not—not at home. Not like not like they do today. Um, I’m glad [laughs].
Velásquez
What does it mean to you to be a Sanford Grammar alumnus?
Driskell
What does it mean to me to be an alumni of Sanford Grammar School? It’s a good thing. It’s a proud thing. It was a good experience that I had there. I’m—I’m glad I went there. It—as I got older, I often wondered you know why they broke our schools up like they did, because now they go—I think it’s K through 5, but here we were broken up. First through—we didn’t have K—first through fourth, fifth and sixth, seventh, eighth, ninth tenth eleventh twelfth at high school. And it was just strange that they would break us up like that why I don’t know.
But for me going to Sanford Grammar School was a good experience, because like I said everything was so calm and good. And you were with you were clumped with kids that your mentality was the same—fifth and sixth grade, you know? That was the same age bracket. You stayed within that age bracket group. You weren’t put in—when I went to Sanford Middle School, it was such a change going from sixth grade, which I was still a little girl to suddenly be pulled into junior high school, which they thought they were grown up. Probably I did too, but [laughs] it was different, because they think different. Uh, we were too old for the younger grades. The fourth fir—first through fourth grade, because to us those were babies. I mean we—we—we had—we’re fifth and sixth, we go to Sanford Grammar. We’re older. And then when the when you suddenly get to sixth grade and you have to go to junior high school you’re scared [laughs]. Because it’s it changes again. I think it’s a better way—to go, because they put these children together in schools that their mentality’s not the same. We were too old for these child—children, too young for these children, so we were in a good place. I had a great experience there, because I was comfortable with the group I was with. They were all we all thought alike. We all still wanted to play in our terms of play, and we were still little kids. So it was a good experience for me and I’m glad I got to go to school the way I did. I feel sorry after working in the public schools and seeing how fifth graders are in school today with the younger kids. They’re outta place. I realize money can’t put them where they need to be, but it was better for me, and I think it made my education better to go on like that. Now I’m glad I went to Sanford Grammar. It was a unique experience.
Velásquez
You mentioned earlier that you went to the school recently to look at how it has changed. What did…
Driskell
Well, the lunchroom’s gone [laughs], for one. Basic—I hadn’t been in the school maybe one time since I left there, and that’s been years and years and years ago. It was deteriorating bad[sic] when I was there. I went back over with my daughter. I didn’t get to spend as much time as I wanted to with Pam going around the museum. And I understand now it’s open more and I’m looking forward to getting to go, but it the work that they’ve done is remarkable and I hope that it can continue things like this need to be remembered.
The children of today need to see that our way of life was not so wrong, that we had it a whole lot better than they do. Now a lot of people wouldn’t agree with that statement. That’s alright. This is my opinion and I’m giving it. I liked the way schools was set up, because I think the children got more one-on-one. I know I did. The school building—I’m proud to see it coming back. I’m proud that they didn’t tear it down and lose it. We’ve lost so much in Sanford. People just are taking history and throwing it away and it’s sad. I—I—as you can tell, I have old pictures and stuff here in the house. I—I like history. And I like the fact that they’re saving history in that building. All of Seminole County School systems are go putting things—excuse me—putting things into that building to be saved.
I mean, that’s why I gave my seats to there, because I knew they would be saved. And—and the school system would the kids could go there and learn what it was like—learn what it was like to go to school in a small setting and see how people survived in Central Florida. I haven’t gotten a chance to go through it all the way, but I’m going and I’m looking forward to going and I’m glad they’re doing it and I’m glad to see UCF [University of Central Florida] taking a part in it and I think it’s great what you kids are doing. I’m proud of it.
Velásquez
Thank you. So you mentioned that you guys never misbehaved, but there must have been times when students misbehaved.
Driskell
Well, I—I’m sure there was[sic] some that were not as good as me [laughs]. True of that. I can’t honestly think of a time, ’cause course in my day, when I was coming up my father always said to me, “You get to trouble with school, you’re going to get in trouble with me.” My daddy was a big man [laughs] and I did not want to fight him. No way, shape, or form did I want to tussle with my dad. So I was programmed and I had three siblings ahead of me—two brothers older and a sister older than I. My sister went to—didn’t go to school at Sanford Grammar, because when we moved here she was already farther up. But I had seen them get in trouble with Dad and I wasn’t going [laughs]. There was no way I was going to be bad.
Now, if there were some other classmates that got in trouble, I’m like the old monkey. I don’t hear it, I don’t see it, I’m not going to speak about it, because I don’t remember it. I really don’t. I was trying to remember the other day who the principal was, and I wish I had a list, because I don’t remember who the principal was. I remember Margaret Mitchell was at Southside, but I don’t remember who was Sanford Grammar. That shows you how much I went to the office. I stayed out of there and I had no reason to get in trouble. I guess I was classified as one of the “good eggs,” because I didn’t—I stayed out of it. I don’t remember anybody getting in trouble.
Velásquez
So you wouldn’t know what happened when other people misbehaved?
Driskell
Well, I—probably they—it would be the paddle, because that was part of the little punishment deal then. But I don’t know of anybody that got it, let me put it to you that way. It weren’t[sic] me. But I don’t know anybody that got it. But I know that the paddle was the form of punishment. You know, three. And—but, like I said, it never it never came my way. I stayed out of there.
Velásquez
What was the most valuable lesson you learned at Sanford Grammar?
Driskell
Study. And that goes back to Miss Sharon again. ’Cause if you did it right, you were rewarded. It wasn’t nothing but a gold star next to your name, and that meant a lot—that gold star. Simple, little, sticky star you stick and goop. That was it. That was like getting the million dollars, ’cause you knew that you were on the good side of Miss Sharon.
But study was the biggest thing. I didn’t like to study. I didn’t like school. That’s why it always amazed me that I would go and work in the school system. I didn’t—I wanted to sit down. I wanted to read a book, because I wanted to read it, not because she was going to tell me I had to read it. And so she made it where I wanted to study, because she give me a reward. She would reward me with nothing more than a pat on the back and tell me how proud she was of me and— or give me that gold star.
And as I progressed in school, I spent more time studying. I was never a great student, but I wasn’t a bad student. I kept my grades at a nice, good level. I wasn’t a braniac, but I wasn’t stupid either [laughs]. But she taught me that, and I appreciate her for that, because she made me feel like if you learn this, it’s going to make you better. And she was by far probably the most important teacher that ever touched my life, because she made me feel important. She made me feel like when I went to school, I was doing something right. And if—she just—she just hung with me for the rest of my life. I mean I appreciate what she made me learn, because it made high school, junior high school, everything easier, because she showed me how to study, and that’s the best thing I got out of the whole school system is she showed me how to make take it and apply it and that was what was important to me after I left. She was a remarkable teacher. Remarkable.
Velásquez
Um, are there any other activities that you participated in that you remember?
Driskell
We had our class programs that we did in the auditorium. Um, which you always felt so good doing it. But I mean, you know, we had little do—little plays and little things like that, but the only real thing that stuck into my head is that maypole [laughs]. I mean the other things were just common, everyday things that you would do. Like you would have a Christmas program for your parents, and they would come and see you perform, and you would have the little things there at the end of the year that you know you would be given an award for what you’d done in school. You know. Things like that. But it they were just the common, everyday things that you did back then.
Ever—parents were involved more in coming to see the children doing things in the school. But that may—maypole—that was everybody—that was the whole community. I mean they there was a lot of— I remember lots of people there and I don’t remember exactly why there was so many at that particular program. It was all set up on that street out front of where the school is now and there were people, lots and lots and lots and lots of people. And I, eh—it was more like a community thing rather than a school activity. I don’t know what it was exactly, but I danced it [laughs]. And there was a lot of people there. And, and—but you know other than the regular programs—no. We all did the things that we were told to do and enjoyed them and never thought about ever having to go to history like this, so no. I can’t think of anything else other than what we did normally.
Velásquez
Okay, well thank you. That’s all I have. Is there anything else you’d like to add?
Driskell
I can’t think of anything that is profound in my mind that—other than the fact that I enjoyed I enjoyed Sanford and I enjoyed the school. I enjoyed the teachers. I am so grateful that my father moved us from Kansas and a farm to bring us to Sanford and to have the experience that I’ve had living in Sanford and going to school in Sanford and being a I don’t classify myself as being nothing but a Southern girl. I mean, I got sand all the way up past my knees. I’m here and I’m a Southern girl and I’m proud of it. And I went to school in Seminole County. And I—I’m proud of everything about that area. I have nothing to add. [inaudible] I have nothing to say. I’m just lucky. Thank you.
Velásquez
Thank you very much, Sharon.
Driskell
You’re welcome, dear.
Settle
Okay. It’s Saturday March 2nd[, 2013]. We’re here at the History Harvest event at the [UCF] Public History Center. My name is John Settle. I will be interviewing Walter [Smith]. Walter, if you’d just you tell us again how you heard about our event.
Smith
One of your cohorts, Ashley Vance, was having lunch at the Corner Café downtown. She was talking to Michael, the owner. Michael said, “Well you oughta talk to Walt Smith, ‘cause he grew up in Sanford.” So he called me. And I talked briefly with Ashley. Afterwards, once I got a hold of her, later that day, I told her, “Yes. I went to school here.”
Smith
We used to have some real mean hot volleyball games out here underneath the oaks. Of course, it was always a chore to run up to the auditorium and back down again for major events. But it was hard to keep your mind on your studies when it was springtime and the wide-open windows and no A/C [air conditioning]. You could either get sleepy or get distracted by what was going on outside. But it was a good school. I gotta say, the marble steps were actually cupped out, because of the foot traffic that went up and down ‘em all the time.
That was, I think, the first high school we had here in Seminole County. And the first hot lunch cafeteria was financed by the Woman’s Club of Sanford. It was down at the east end of this building. It was a separate wood-frame building. Back when I was growing up there was, like, 12 and a half thousand people, and most of the parents knew who you belonged to. You couldn’t get into too much trouble, because even if you ran as fast as you could, you’d never beat back home before they knew what you’d done. And retribution was coming, of course.
Settle
Do you want to tell us what years that you went to school here?
Smith
Well it was—uh, let’s see I graduated from high school in ‘46. So go back nine—four years—no. Four, eight—eight years before ‘46 and that would be about it. ‘Cause you—you had the junior high school, which was seventh and eighth [grades], and this was sixth and seventh, and the elementary school—Southside—was one through four.
Settle
And do you want to tell us a little about some of the items you brought today to have digitized?
Smith
Yes. Mother was quite active at a lot of activities in town. But it was—this was an album that I made up for our 65th high school reunion. And looking at it and some of the studies, scrapbooks, and papers, I found an article about two of the first attendees at Seminole High School. And Gladys[sp] Morris, who married Herman Morris, who was my principal in junior high school, as well as high school. And Elizabeth Lynch she was a math teacher, and one of the best I’ve ever run into, because she could explain plane geometry and solid geometry simply where you understood what the heck she was talking about. And real good background.
When they built the school—the new school—the one I just showed you. They had—the auditorium was down at the end. In fact, that’s part of it. But also—also in here we had the—hold onto it for a minute. That was when it was torn down—the auditorium. And before it was a lot of the alumni came back, and had a final get together and gab session with the rest of ‘em.
But what I was gonna tell you about the high school was when they got it built, before the students even got into it, they had a hurricane come up. You know, we have those every now and then. And the city and the city fathers in their wisdom said, “Well, heck. That’s the strongest building we got here, unless it was the old ice plant, and that can handle a number of people. So y’all come here and use it as a comfort station, as well as a place to get away from the hurricane.”
And, which reminds me that’s the reason why the old ice plant, here in Sanford, was the largest in the state, because they were icing down so many bunkers and railroad cars, as well as trucks that were going back and forth in the winter time. And they were shipping out a hundred car loads of celery a day from [station] company, celery pre-cooling plant my dad used to be comptroller for. And even back in high school, mid-40s, I remember Dad writing a check to the [Duda] brothers for the celery for that year—$1 million. So yes, we had an awful lot of celery ‘round here. In fact, Palucci—Dad put him on the cuff for a botch car of celery cuttage that he put in his china dishes. Chun king china doll and the rest.
But there are a lotta good people here in Sanford. I used to kid the Western Union guy—the manager—that we just didn’t have any need for him around here, because if something happened in town between the phone, and the rotary system, and the woman’s grape vine, they’d know about it way before he would. And it[?] would go from that.
This was—this was—let me get it out of here. I kept it, ‘cause at one time I was on the football team. That was the ‘46—l of the ‘46 team. And we used to get in practice for football by working on the little spur line—l railroad section gang. And old Mr. Lumnack[sp]—always had chewin’ tobacco in his mouth—he says—got us together one mornin’ and says, “Boys, y’all gonna have to slow down a little bit. I can’t find ties fast enough.” We were layin’ a hundred ties a day, and that was back before they had those automatic tampers where you had to take it all out and put it all back manually and then tamp it down. But it got us in shape.
Settle
This was working on the railroad?
Smith
Yeah. It was a section gang in the summertime before we got into fall school.
Settle
But it was for conditioning for football?
Smith
Yeah that was one way to do it. Then our coach was Hank “Goose.” “Goose” they called him. It was his nickname, ‘cause he had a long—he was a tall guy, but had a long, slim neck and it remind[sic] you of a goose, so people nicknamed him “Goose.” But he was an ex-pro baseball player, and the first year he was coach, our team made it all the way to the finals. And darn near won the thing. But like I say, it was a good town to grow up in, because the people cared about the kids—theirs and yours too—and they pretty well kept us from getting into too much trouble.
Settle
That’s great. Is there anything else you wanna say?
Smith
Y’all come...
Settle
Okay, I guess we’re gonna stop it now, if that’s okay.
Miller
My name is Mark Miller and I am interviewing…
Kinlaw-Best
Christine [Kinlaw-Best].
Miller
Christine. Alright. And this is March 2nd at the History Harvest at the Public History Center—2013.
Kinlaw-Best
Okay.
Miller
And we just want to ask you a few questions on what brought you here or what is it that you are sharing with us.
Kinlaw-Best
I found the notice on Facebook and so…
Miller
Very nice.
Kinlaw-Best
Uh-huh. I had you know—how you click, like, on the Public History Center and so I saw the notice on Facebook and saw the call for the local artifacts for the school. And so I gathered up some of my things for this school and brought them down.
Miller
And what are there—what are some of your things?
Kinlaw-Best
I brought—my whole family went to this school from the time it was built—when it opened its doors in 1902. Two of my older great-aunts though moved away, so I don’t have their report cards, but I did bring report cards of one of my great-aunts[1] from 1907, when the building was just five years old.
Miller
That is exciting.
Kinlaw-Best
A brand new building. So I have her report card from then. And I brought a picture of her so she would kind of go with the report card. And then her younger sister—my grandmother[2]—attended here also. I brought one of her report cards that’s a hundred years old. It’s from 1913, when she was here in the third grade. And I brought my uncle’s[3] report card from 1914, so that’s 99 years old [laughs]. And then my mom and dad both went here. I happen to actually have one of my mom’s report cards from here that actually, you know—it’s like the rest. It’s Sanford Grammar [School] and that one’s 80 years old. It’s from 1933. And then I went here all through elementary school, in this building.
Miller
Oh, wow.
Kinlaw-Best
Fifty years ago. So, our whole family went through here. And by the time my kids came along, of course, obviously the school had then been closed and not in use anymore as an elementary school.
Miller
Did your whole family collect this or was this your idea?
Kinlaw-Best
Ah, it was—well, my aunt had her things, and when she passed away, my mom got it. And when my mom passed away, I got it, so it’s been as, you know—generations have passed on, then it’s all made its way down to me.
Miller
So this has been a personal experience for you.
Kinlaw-Best
Uh-huh.
Miller
The entire school. Everything about that.
Kinlaw-Best
Yes.
Miller
Is there, uh—for instance, what are the significance of these items to you personally? I mean…
Kinlaw-Best
It’s, um, my family [laughs]. That’s the best way I can think of it. Its significance is preserving my family’s stories. Just as my granddaughter now is excited about things, because I went to Seminole—well, we go back once again, Seminole High School, which is here. It was Sanford High School first, but my granddaughter likes to brag that six or seven generations have all gone to the same high school. And, of course, Daddy went to Seminole and played football for them. I went to Seminole and now my 16 year old granddaughter is at Seminole High School. So, you know, that’s what these mean to me, is, ah, carrying on the family.
Miller
Yeah. You—I think you have a unique story. I’m sure there’s not too many along those lines.
Kinlaw-Best
Uh-huh.
Miller
We want to thank you very much for bringing this in—it’s a tremendous asset. We want to thank you for that.
Kinlaw-Best
You bet.
Miller
Is there anything you might want to add about your experiences or anything you had in this school—I mean of this sort…
Kinlaw-Best
One thing I’d like to try to think of and remember is when my great aunt was going here in 1907, it was only just this building. The two wings didn’t exist yet and so when you—even though this looks so big from the outside, when you stop and think about it, you can see why they needed to add the wings almost immediately, because there really aren’t that many classrooms in just this building. Because so much of it was upstairs was auditorium and, of course, even when I came here, we didn’t have a lunch room in the building, we had to go out and into the back and have lunch out back.
So my grandmother told stories of—I was just telling one of the girls in there—when she came to school here, of course, there was not a “motorized” school bus. And so the horse’s hooves—it was a horse-drawn buggy thing, like a big trailer that had rows of hard seats and a top on it and it had canvas sides that rolled up. And Grandma used to always talk about how you could tell when it was time for the bus, because Sanford’s cobblestone streets—you would hear the clup, clup, clup, clup, clup of the horses coming and the kids knew to run outside and the bus would pull up and you got in the wagon. If it was hot, the sides were rolled up. If it was raining, the sides were rolled down and they drove you here to the front of the school and dropped the kids off. And then the “bus-driver” [laughs], with his horse, would literally park out back here, right behind the school. And he would just hang around all day. And ‘cause school was only a few hours then too, they only went about three or four hours a day here. So then when they were finished, he—the kids just all loaded back up in the wagon and he proceeded to drive all around Sanford and let everyone out again in front of their house. So that’s a special memory to me of Gram telling me about “the Bus” for this school.
Miller
Everybody had their chores to get home to and…
Kinlaw-Best
And most everybody worked in the field. Everybody was farmers here, in Seminole County. So you had to get home and work in the fields. They also went to school like four months out of the year.
Miller
Oh.
Kinlaw-Best
That was a whole school year. So the rest of the time you were helping your parents with farming. So…
Miller
Was it the same with you when you attended here? Was it…
Kinlaw-Best
When I attended we were already back to the whole full long day. Uh-huh.
Miller
Alright.
Kinlaw-Best
So, I say that like “long day.” I guess every kid thought that about their school then. So anyway, that’s mostly about it.
Miller
Well, with the wings and the rapid growth, it is a testament to how quickly Sanford was growing.
Kinlaw-Best
Right.
Miller
And your family was definitely part of that.
Kinlaw-Best
One thing I did want to just mention to you—because for so long it was called just “Sanford Grammar”—but this school had a long period it was called “Westside Grammar” [Elementary School] too, and I know a lot of people think maybe that it might be a different school, but it’s not. This—this building was west—all through the 60s was called “Westside Grammar,” because at that time we had Eastside Grammar, which is the little bitty school over on Palmetto [Avenue] and we had Southside. All of them had original names. Westside, Eastside, and Southside. But Southside is over off of Thirteenth Street and so this building was called Westside Grammar for at least through the 60s, when I went here. All of my report cards and even the class pictures are all stamped Westside Grammar. So I just wanted to put that in too, so there’s not any confusion if ya’ll look at those and go, “Oh, that’s not Sanford Grammar,” ‘cause it is. It is still Sanford Grammar. It’s just for a while there was called “Westside Grammar.”
Miller
So Eastside was the original grammar school? Or…
Kinlaw-Best
Ah. Eastside is the one—the little—it was the Tajiri Arts Building, it’s on Ninth [Street] and Palmetto. And that one was built around 1880. That building is still standing. And that was the original and only elementary school and that’s why this was the high school and that was the elementary.
Miller
Oh. Okay.
Kinlaw-Best
But it was called “Eastside Primary.” and Southside is still standing. It’s a retirement home now—in the school. And this was Sanford Grammar and then Westside Grammar and then back to Sanford Grammar again. [Laughs]. So…
Miller
Which is the Little Red Schoolhouse?
Kinlaw-Best
That’s the one I’m talking about. Over on, uh-huh…
Miller
Okay.
Kinlaw-Best
Eastside Grammar. I have pictures of it with the big sign across, over the door that says Eastside Primary. But all the celery farmers and the kids from the Eastside,like going out towards the beach—towards New Smyrna [Beach]. That’s—those kids went there and the west-side farmers, which were out First Street, like going towards Seminole Towne Center Mall. That’s where I grew-up. You came here, because you were the “westside kids,” and then the kids to the south of the city went to Southside.
Miller
Oh. That’s great!
Kinlaw-Best
So…
Miller
If you have—want to share those pictures, you know, you said you have pictures of these time-lines. Anything of that nature, where you’re interested in, especially someone of such great experience with the school system in this area.
Kinlaw-Best
Okay.
Miller
Excellent.
Kinlaw-Best
Okay.
Miller
Well, thank you very much.
Kinlaw-Best
You’re welcome.
Miller
It was tremendous and we really appreciate everything.
Kinlaw-Best
Thank you. You bet.
Miller
Alright.
Reproduction of glass plate negative by Jefferson Clay Ensminger: Photographic Collection, box 3, folder Ensminger, General Collection, UCF Public History Center, Sanford, Florida.
Orange County Bicentennial Committee (Fla.). More Than a Memory. Orlando, Fla: Orange County Bicentennial Committee, 1975.
Photographic Collection, box 3, folder Ensminger, General Collection, UCF Public History Center, Sanford, Florida.
Copyright to this resource is held by the Student Museum and is provided here by RICHES of Central Florida for educational purposes only.