Holcomb
Today is April 9th, 2010. My name is Susan Holcomb. I’m here interviewing David Scott about his time when his dad[1] was Superintendent here at the Old Folks Home. David, thank you again for your time today.
Scott
Okay. You’re welcome.
Holcomb
You were telling me about the office here.
Scott
Yes. This where I’m standing now in front of the fireplace. This was the superintendent’s living quarters. This is where we lived—my mom[2] and dad, and my sister, my brother, and myself. We lived here. This was the entrance—the main entrance—the office. That’s where we kept all the records. There was a driveway that came up in the front here and made kind of a turn and people would come up and stop in front of the office. And whatever their business was, we would take care of it here, because we lived right next to the office. So it was real convenient. But this was where we lived. We lived in here. It was good. This has been opened up. The partitions—this has all been opened up into the dining area. That was all closed when we lived here. It looks small now, but it was large then. But it was a lot of fun here. This was back in the late [19]50s-early ‘60s. But my sister and my brother stayed on this side—in the superintendent’s side—and I stayed over in the office where Kim [Nelson] is right now, that was my room. There was[sic] two rooms where the office is—two small rooms. They opened that up and now she’s in—where her office is that was my room where I stayed.
Holcomb
How about that. So there were two rooms there and you had one of them?
Scott
Right.
Holcomb
And how old were you again when you lived here?
Scott
I was around 15—15 years old.
Holcomb
And how many years were you here?
Scott
We were here approximately four years living here. But I got used to the elderly folks, and it was a good part of growing up. It was a lot of experience, a lot of knowledge, and things that I listened to back then—stories and all. They were fantastic. It was just like reading a book, when you talk to some of the people that were here. And it was great.
Holcomb
That’s interesting. About how many residents were here then? Do you know?
Scott
I would say probably 10-15 in this section. We had the infirmary in the back. Of course it’s not there now. Rachel Lee ran the infirmary with a nurse, and she had her patients, and sick people were there. And there was the colored section where they lived and there was probably eight people living in there. But there would be people coming and going, but most of the time we kept the same ones. They just lived here ‘til something happened to them.
But it was good that this road came around from the front of the office. It came around the building and all the way around that building, and made a loop, and came out over there where you parked your car in the parking lot, and came back out to the road. And the ambulance—if they had to pick up someone from the infirmary or the doctor or whatever, they could make a loop and all the deliveries and everything.
Now when you pull up—we’ll walk to the kitchen here. This was our entrance right here in the kitchen on the superintendent’s side. We parked our cars out there. There was an oak tree. This was all field out there. To your right, on the south side, there was a garage and a chicken coop. It was probably 50 by 50 and we probably had 150 chickens to 200 chickens. Behind that was the wash shed—the infirmary. And the coloreds stayed in their building. We would take—certain days we would go out and gather up the chickens and we would have to slaughter up the chickens. We had fresh chickens and put them in the freezer. We also had pigs and cows and stuff like that. We had plenty of meat, plenty of milk, and it worked out good for everyone here.
Holcomb
That[?] sounds like it. What were some of the responsibilities you had here, if any?
Scott
Oh, yeah. Yeah. Back in the day you did your part. I would get up in the mornings, and I’d get dressed and sometimes put on an old pair of pants. Not my school clothes, but I would come over and back up between the little trellises out here. This is the dining room and kitchen here, and I would back up there with the truck. We had a five-gallon pail with leftover milk, scraps. And we would get commodities like cornmeal with bugs in it or something once in a while and I would take all that, throw it in the five-gallon bucket with milk, put it in the back of the truck, drive down the road, and I’d slop the hogs every day. That was my morning chore. So the reason why I said about pants was that sometimes it would spill on ya, so you had to be real careful. But I had to do that and a bunch of little things in the morning. Make sure everything was in its rightful place, kinda do a little walk round—my dad did and I did. It was a family thing. Then we’d walk down to the road and catch the school bus, or drive to school, or someone would pick us up.
Holcomb
You said you went to Seminole High [School]?
Scott
I went to Seminole High on French Avenue on top of the hill back then in ’59. The road out here—the four lane—was just getting finished. It was two lane. They were just finishing it. That made it nice.
But it was good. In the afternoons, I would come in after school and I’d kinda go through the same process of changing clothes and getting everything. We had a Snappin’ Turtle lawn mower—one of those old mowers with a turtle head on the front—and we would mow grass. That was part of it. We’d mow grass and Will—he was one of the black guys. He was on crutches. He would be at the barn at a certain time, and all the cows would come in, and he’d milk all the cows. I’d go through the orange grove—that was all orange grove on that side then—I’d go down through the orange grove to the barn, and I would bring the milk back, because he couldn’t do it. And I’d carry the milk, bring it back to the kitchen so they would have fresh milk. Usually we’d have two full buckets. That was part of my job in the afternoon. There was[sic] always things to do. Sometimes in the afternoons or on the weekends, I would even go to the infirmary or in the back where the blacks lived—the colored folks lived—and pick them up and take them across—here’s a lake in Lake Mary you could go through the woods and around, and the man that had the lakefront property would let them fish. So we would go fishin’. There’d be four or five that’d want to go over. Sometimes we’d leave ‘em for two-three hours with water and everything and then go back and get ‘em. They’d bring the fish back, clean them, and the kitchen people would cook ‘em. So that’s the way it went.
Holcomb
So every once in a while you had fresh fish too?
Scott
Oh, yeah. It was great really, really good. It was a good life living out here. I enjoyed it. Kept us all busy and you got to see a lot of people and that’s what it was all about really.
Sometimes I’d be sitting in here—and another part of my duties were, someone pull up—there was a funeral home in Sanford and they’d bury folks in the [Seminole] County cemetery here by the college. They would pull up in the hearse, and I would go to the office, and give them a number, and they would have all the paperwork. Or they would give me a number. I forget how that went back then. I would go over to the cemetery with them and they would have a hole. They had someone—they would drop him off and dig the grave. Sometimes the graves weren’t real deep, because of the water table. But they had a pine box, and I would help them lower the remains—the body—down in to the gravesite and basically, you know, cover it up. And I’d bring back the number or whatever and it would go into the book. But that was just another thing that I did. But yeah. I helped bury a number of people over there. Sometimes the cows would get out of the fence and they’d trample through over there and you could see where they stepped in. it was just a common thing though. It was something to be expected when you had animals like that in a cemetery.
We had a guy that was in the infirmary—Sam McFadden was his name. I was 15 years old and I told him—I said, “Sam, when I turn 18, I’ll take you back to Oviedo.” That’s where he was from. He was a black guy. Really a nice person. He had no legs at all. He was over there probably six-eight years. I forget how many years. So the week I turned 16, and got my regular license, I pulled around, got him down the ramp, picked him up, put him in the passenger seat, and we went to Oviedo. All day long. He hadn’t been over there in years. So I drove him all around Oviedo so he could see people he knew. He would show me where to go and tell me which way he wanted to turn. He had a wonderful day. People gave him money and everything. That probably made his day, you know. He remembered that the rest of his life. He was a real good person. I liked doing things like that. It was part of the experience I got from living over here. He was a great person. Just a little thing I could do to help out.
Holcomb
That’s fantastic. I bet he did enjoy that.
Scott
Oh, yeah. But he didn’t weigh much. I could pick him right up, with no legs.
But, uh, this area—this area was the dining room and they would eat their breakfast, dinner, and supper in here. The kitchen was right through there and they would cook everything. Where the books and all are, that was the pantry. That’s where we kept all the food and stuff. And the little walkway out here— where the colored dining room was. They came up, they ate out here, and the other folks in here ate in here.
Holcomb
So they essentially put the kitchen in the middle.
Scott
The kitchen—right. It’s where it is now. I guess it’s still a kitchen in there. But that’s what that was. I don’t know if they’ve done anything with the little extension out here or not, I think it’s basically for storage now.
Holcomb
Yeah.
Scott
Yeah.
Holcomb
What was—what was that? The storage [inaudible]?
Scott
[inaudible].
Holcomb
Oh, okay.
Scott
No. The dining room.
Holcomb
Got it, got it, got it.
Scott
Yeah.
Holcomb
Yeah.
Scott
Yeah. They would sit on the porch down there. And there was two—there was Willie and Lily. She was ‘bout as big around as she was tall—real short. But they would go down here on [U.S. Route] 17-92—there was big oak trees down there then. They would take their chairs—they had a couple chairs they left down there. I took them down for them, and they would sit there and watch the traffic and wave. People got used to seeing them every day just about. Some people would actually stop and give them money. They’re the same ones that we would take fishing. They loved to fish. It was really great. They enjoyed it. It was something for them to do. ‘Cause you know a place like this you get a certain age, it gets a little boring and a little excitement—you see new people, new cars.
Holcomb
And somebody stop to chat.
Scott
Oh, yeah. People would probably knew[sic] them—that knew they were here. You know, there’s a lot of sad things. People that you get acclimated to living in this area with older people. And you’re a teenager, and you hear all the stories, and you like these people. Then they get sick and pass away. It’s kinda hard on you. But it’s an experience that you never forget. It’s good really. It was really good for me. And I remember a lot of the stories. They were great. Like back years ago when Florida had dirt roads and people rode horses and things like that were some of the stories.
Holcomb
So you heard some of those?
Scott
Oh, yeah.
Holcomb
Well, that’s fascinating.
Scott
‘Cause some of the people—back in 1960, they were 80 years old, so you know they didn’t have the cars. That’s the way it was. All the women stayed in one section and the men stayed in the other. Sometimes they would get to arguing—well, older people like that is—was—kinda comical. But they would. They would get serious and would start arguing. We had one out here named Beautiful Lee. That was his name. He had a business here in Sanford. We had another here, Mr. Barfield. And they didn’t get along too well. Sometimes you had to straighten them out. My dad—he had his hands full.
When we first got here, the beds were really bad. The mattresses were old and soiled. The first thing he did was go to the [Seminole] County commissioners to get funding to where Echols Bedding Company years ago. Came out to haul the mattresses out and put all fresh mattresses in. And like—the people we buried out there. They were just buried—buried without any nice clothes. And dad got to where—they might’ve got them from Goodwill [Industries International, Inc.] or wherever back then—but they had suits when they were buried instead of being buried in a pine box. It was the little things that mattered. He was good about that.
Holcomb
So you’re saying your dad went in front of the commission to get the beds?
Scott
Oh, yeah. When he needed something. Homer Little was on the board of county commissioners back then, and he talked to him about a lot of things. He would go to the meetings and whatever he would bring it up—whatever he really needed. There wasn’t a lot of money, but still yet you know things needed to be done. Because, to be honest with you, it still happens every day. And I hate to see it, but people bring their parents out after they get sick and everything and they can’t help themselves. They bring them out here and sell their house. The kids get their house—get everything. And for the first week or two they’re out here continuously visiting. Then it starts dropping off. Then it’s two weeks. Well, then it’s six months. Then maybe it’s birthday or Christmas. And that’s the way it happens. It happens all the time. It’s sad, but it’s true. I would say 85 percent. Of course, it might be a little different now. I’m sure it is. But it was still sad back then. That’s just the way life is.
But it was nice. We had one man back there next to me—next to my room. And back then, you could smoke. He had emphysema so bad. So they gave him cigarettes for his emphysema that he could smoke that, I guess, helped him or something. Those things smelled so bad. I remember his smoking at night or in the daytime, the whole hallway would smell of his cigarettes. I would have to go to my room and I didn’t like that.
But, uh, it was nice. My brother and sister—they did a lot of work too. There was a little pool right out here in the front—a fishing pond—concrete fishing pond. It’s not there now. My sister, when she was in her teens, would walk up and down take pictures of her walking, because she thought she was something. She had her little small waist and all that then. That’s just the way it was.
I had an old car. I put it in the garage back there that I worked on a little bit when I wasn’t real busy. It was good. The road department was real small down here, and if we needed something from the road department, we could get it and bring it back. It was pretty decent out here. Everyone seemed to work together.
Scott
There’s so many things I really can’t remember. I know with the hogs—we would take them and—Mr. Humphrey was his name—from Lake Mary. He was really big man. He would come over a certain time of the year when it was cool and we would butcher the hogs. They would get so big and so fat from the milk and everything. We would butcher the hogs and then we’d take the hogs up to the freezer and, as needed, we would go there—get the meat—bring it back, and they would cook it. So we always had fresh meat. It was really good. We had beef too. We raised a few bulls and stuff like that once in a while. It was always something. It never stopped.
Holcomb
Doesn’t sound like it. A very self-sufficient organization too, with as many chickens as were out there.
Scott
Right. Yeah. We had chickens. We had the pork. Beef. We had eggs. We didn’t buy any eggs. We had like the commodities the corn meal was brought in. The government had left over stuff. And someone hit a deer or something like that, or poached one, they had venison. That’s the way life was back then. We had plenty of vegetables. People would bring stuff like different vegetables out here, and oranges. There was an orange grove all around the place. There was oranges galore. Course, they’re all gone now. Anytime you wanted a real nice orange, just go out and get it. And they did. The people that were able. The rest of them that weren’t able. They looked out for them.
We had a pickup truck that we used. I would use it to go get things when I got my license. I would drive it back and forth in the mornings to feed the hogs—slop the hogs—and stuff. We also had a station wagon that we used. My dad would take the people that live here to the doctor, or to take them to town or something instead of taking them over to the infirmary, if they needed x-rays or something.
There was one black lady. She was really young. I say young—she was probably in her 20s. She was in an accident or got shot or something. I forget what it was, but she couldn’t walk. She was in the infirmary. She didn’t have any money. The county had to take care of her. They took her back and forth to the doctor, kept taking her, not giving up on her. And you know she got to where she could walk. She got out on her own. From what I understand she got married and had kids. But that’s another one of the stories.
Holcomb
That’s amazing.
Scott
Yeah. There’s a lot of stories. If I could remember a bunch of them…
Holcomb
Any time you remember one, give us a call.
Scott
Yeah, yeah. We did a lot of things out here. I don’t know. I get to thinking about—there’s a few movies that I have. They’re the old 8mm. if I could ever get them off and transferred them over onto something—one of these days, it shows cars parked out here and where we were living we’d be coming in and out of this door, and the garage, the chickens, the whole area. It’s just a small video, but maybe I could put it together.
Holcomb
Oh. That would be fantastic.
Scott
Yeah. We had out little dogs and stuff. A little dog out here. I had one. We had a wreck down here on the side of the road, and my uncle had worked for Ratliff’s Towing. So I was over there, and walked down to see the car that had been left down there on the side of the road that had been there a couple days. I heard a little noise and there was a puppy under the seat. But it was part Chihuahua. It was a little, small dog. So I brought it back and named it Pooch. That was my dog. And she had the run of the place. Everyone loved her around here. She had the run of the place. Everyone played with her. She was really smart. The newspaperman would come up and make the circle and throw the paper out and we had—there was no air conditioning in here—we had fans. There was the screen door. She could hit it and open it up and then she’d run out. When I saw him coming up, if she didn’t hear him I’d say, “Paper, Pooch,” and she’d run out and get the paper and bring it back in. She was a smart little dog [coughs].
Scott
Yeah. It was basically self-sufficient. We took care of everything here. Laundry and the whole nine yards.
Holcomb
Where was the laundry?
Scott
The laundry was back here behind the garage. There was a building back there. That’s where the maids did the laundry. We had, I think, one or two maids that helped. My mom made out all the menus. She did the menus and helped with the cooking and the cleaning in here too. And the maids did the laundry and all in the back—back here.
And my dad—if you go out the back and you go down, there was a boiler down there, and probably still is. That’s how the heat was in here. We had the big radiant things. They had a furnace down there. Actually, it was coal to start with. And we used to have to go down there at night and fill that thing up to keep it warm in here. Then they changed it over to diesel fuel or kerosene or something. Yeah. It had a coal chute. A truck would back up and dump it down in there. That was another job. There was[sic] always things to do. Always.
But they’d get together—a lot of people would get together, like the folks in the back. They would get together sometimes on Sundays and sing and have a good time down there. We all did.
Holcomb
It sounds like it. Did they keep you cracking on your homework—your schoolwork?
Scott
Oh, yeah. Well, I kinda would go against the grain. You know how that goes. I still had to do it. Yeah. You gotta do that afterwards and everything. But on the weekends, being a teenager, you could go somewhere—to the drive-in or the skating rink that used to be up here on 17-92. Course, you didn’t need but a couple dollars. You could get a hamburger, hot dog or whatever, you know, for 25 or 30 cents. It wasn’t very expensive back then. Couple dollars’ worth of gas—you could go everywhere. We’d go—a couple of us would get together—two or three guys—ride around a little bit, go skating, or go to the movies, or hang out. The Movieland Drive-In was here then, years ago. Or the old Ritz [Theatre] downtown. There was a lot to do on the weekends. You could go to the beach.
Scott
There’s not a lot of traffic like there is now. On [Florida State Road] 415, you didn’t run but about 55-60 miles an hour. The old cars would run real fast, but you didn’t run real fast, because you didn’t want to burn it up. You had to save it. But yeah, a lot of things have changed since way back then. Some for the good, some the not so good. Back when I lived in here it’s not like today. Life was simple. It wasn’t expensive. Taxes were cheap, and everyone knew everyone. Now it’s not that way. A lot of people you can’t even speak to them, because you don’t know what language they’re speaking. It’s completely different than what it was back then. But it was really down-to-earth and basic, even though you know it was hard, but it was good. It was really good.
Holcomb
Sounds likes it. Um, you were talking about a brother and sister here at the time too. Were you the oldest or the youngest?
Scott
My older sister, Helen [Scott], her last name is Atkinson now. I was in the middle. My younger brother is Edward Scott. He’s younger than me. Our parents are gone, but we stay in touch. They did a lot of work out here too. We all pitched in.
Holcomb
And you said you moved to the area when you were six?
Scott
Yes. I started at Lake Monroe School in 1950, I think. It was just a small school out there. It’s still there. They sold it and a doctor lives in it now. They converted it into a house. Back then, you see guys in first grade that was probably 10 years old, because they were late starting school or they didn’t come to school very often. They progressed on up they were older in the sixth grade. But it was a good school. I had a lot of fun there. Then I went to Sanford Junior High School on Ninth [Street] and Sanford Avenue.
And then from there to Seminole High, out on the hill out there. And then the new Seminole High was built and I started my sophomore year there. Freshman year on the hill and then the new high school. They built the one that’s out there now. And it was all just palmettos and pine trees when they were building that. You just had to go out through there. Yeah. I went to high school there. Back where the college is here—that was just a nothing. It was just a power line road that went through. It went over to Lake Mary. That’s what we would use to go to the lake the back way. And some of us—myself and my brother—we would take our old clunker car. We didn’t have a license, but we would drive the back road through the woods and everything. It was a lot of fun [coughs].
Holcomb
The power line road was the one you were talking about taking people fishing?
Scott
Yeah. You would go down to the road department, and turn left. Then go down, and then you could make a right, and it would take you back out to the cemetery and to Lake Mary Boulevard. It wasn’t much of a boulevard then, because it would dead-end up there before they opened it up and did all that. Or you could go to the road department and make a left, then it would take you down and around. It was just a mud hole on each side. It was a road built up for the power line use and it was a shortcut to Lake Mary. We’d go over there and go swimming or whatever sometimes. But there was nothing back there then. There was a lot of orange trees all around. This out in the front was a pasture. The pasture actually went out and all the way around and ended up almost past the cemetery almost to Lake Mary Boulevard back where the houses are.
Holcomb
So the orange grove went that far? Or the pasture?
Scott
The pasture did. The orange grove started from the road department—the end of their little road and then all back around this whole place around here was orange grove. This whole place around here was orange grove. Even back on this side, there was an orange grove going back. So there was a lot of oranges.
Holcomb
Sounds like it.
Scott
I think we had five cows. I think Will milked about five cows. Plus, when they would have a calf, we would raise it up for beef or sell it or something or butcher it up. I’m not sure what happened to most of them. I know we always had plenty of meat in the freezer in town. I forget the name of the locker. It was there on Thirteenth Street where we kept everything. But they would cut it, dress it, pack it, freeze it, hang it or whatever we needed.
Holcomb
You said up on Thirteenth Street was the freezer locker?
Scott
That’s where it was. Back when Sheriff Poppy[sp] was the sheriff here years ago. I don’t know what else you need to know or if there’s anything you can think of.
Holcomb
Um, I had a question about what they call the “Agricultural Building” now. The building back behind that’s part of the museum. That wasn’t here though.
Scott
No. Back where the new building is now?
Holcomb
Yeah.
Scott
The loop went around the back of this building, because nothing was here. Made the loop and that was the infirmary. That’s where the infirmary was. Rachel Lee was the nurse there.
Holcomb
Okay. But that area is where the infirmary was, but it’s not the building that was the infirmary?
Scott
Right. The infirmary was when you walk out this one door here, you go straight across the driveway and that was the infirmary. And then on the other side was where the coloreds lived—in their section there, in the corner down there. And the loop went all the way around the place.
Holcomb
Okay. You were saying earlier about the big tree up front providing shade.
Scott
Oh, yeah. The camphor tree. I was telling you earlier that I would go out on the porch with all the old men here, and I would sit out on the porch in the afternoon. It was a real good shade, and we would sit out there with the breeze blowing. That’s where I heard most of my stories from all the old folks. The men—they would sit out there, and they would tell me about the history of when they moved to Florida—whenever they’d come. And they rode horses, and they drove Model Ts, and there was a dirt road going to Orlando and all kind of stuff .and I guess that’s where the Crackers come in were popping the whips and stuff. It was interesting. We would sit under that tree, and it was a big tree then, on the porch.
Holcomb
That’s interesting. Were they—did any of them work in cattle ranching? Any of the stories that you heard?
Scott
Oh, yeah. They would move cattle in Florida for miles, especially around the Kissimmee area way back then. It was mostly swamp—a lot of it was swamp. They would talk about some of the things that occurred moving one herd of cows to the next place or wherever. Some of them, like I said, even in 1960—they were up in their 80s, so they knew a lot about this before any of us was even thought of.
They lived a good life, a lot of them. And this was their last place. The last stop was here. They didn’t have anything else to do and here I am—15 years old—and I’m sitting out there just listening, and they loved to tell me their stories. Sometimes I’d hear the same story over two or three times, but it was still interesting.
Holcomb
I bet so. Any railroaders? I was looking at some video when the railroad marker dedication was, but I didn’t know if anybody here when you were here who was involved in that.
Scott
No. Actually there weren’t. I can’t remember anyone that worked for the railroad that was here years ago, but I do remember a lot of the trains. Growing up, I remember the diesels—when they first started running the diesels and stuff like that. I’ve seen steam engines and stuff. Not a lot of railroad people that I remember lived out here. Basically railroad people—I think the reason for that was when they worked for the railroad, they got a retirement. And see, their retirement took care of them when they got sick and that was basically the reason why they didn’t put them in the Old Folks Home. People that were out here were—they worked all their life and didn’t have anything left—basically, no retirement or anything else so they qualified for the [Seminole] County to take care of them, and that’s where they ended up. Their folks put them in here.
Holcomb
So they were more the ones who worked for themselves in a way?
Scott
Right. Some of them had businesses they were really doing good[sic] through the years. But like I said earlier, when they get to a certain point in their life or they get sick and their family can’t take care of them or don’t want to take care of them, and so they basically take away everything so they ended up here. It’s a cruel way to look at it, but they were actually better off here. They got waited on, they had plenty to eat, they had a nice place to sleep, and whatever, you know. If they really wanted to go visit someplace, their family would come up once in a while and take them out and bring them back so it wasn’t bad. It made it easier on everyone probably.
Holcomb
Um, I had thought of another question. What type of work did your dad do before he got this job?
Scott
Uh, my dad [coughs]—he was a used car salesman actually. He was in the Military. He could do about anything, really. Carpenter work or whatever. Whatever it took growing up to make a living, that’s basically what he did. But he was a car salesman. He was in a dealership. Well, I think the guy that he worked for and him were the only two, but they had a real nice car lot and he was selling cars. Buying and selling cars [coughs].
Holcomb
Interesting. Was it there in Sanford then?
Scott
Yes. It was in Sanford. Of course, there’s[sic] buildings there now. Where his car lot was—actually years ago, when he first started selling cars was there on Second [Street] and Sanford Avenue. If you know where the post office is downtown, but there’s a lot right there with a big oak tree on it where Larry’s [New & Used] Mart used to be. Well, it wasn’t years ago, but that was a car lot. The tree wasn’t so big back then. They had cars all around on that corner there. Then they moved up like on Ninth [Street] and Sanford Avenue and sold cars up there. But yeah it was interesting. I always loved cars, I still do. I’ve got old cars and trucks. It gets in your blood. But, yeah. That’s what he did.
Holcomb
Uh, you mentioned earlier too—one of the trees out back here on the property on the Old Folks Home was an oak tree?
Scott
Yeah. There was some oak trees. They were having a fundraiser—or I don’t know what it was—but they wanted to sell oak trees for $100, or whatever it was when they were doing it. And you could dedicate it or whatever to whomever you wanted to for the members that was here, and I got one in memory of my mom and dad, Grady and Flora Scott. But they didn’t put any markers or anything on it, so when you go out there, you think it’s just like another tree planted. I would like to see them one of these days go back in the records to find out who did that and put some little something in recognition of who it’s for. But they haven’t done that, and I’m sure it’s an oversight that never got taken care of.
Holcomb
I’m sure it is too. I would like to see—if you don’t mind, when we’re wrapping up, if you’d show me which ones they were out there we can get that documented.
Anything else for your childhood that sticks out for you—growing up here or even before you got here—that makes you chuckle now?
Scott
Oh, there’s a lot of things [laughs]. I was a middle kid. I’ve got a younger brother and an older sister. I was the one that was in between. Growing up, if you got in trouble in school, you got tanned a little bit by the principal. Then you got home your mother did it. Then when your dad got home he took care of it. So it was one, two, three. And you didn’t do that anymore. I basically raised my kids the same way—in a way that I would set them down when they got in trouble and we would talk about it and we’d determine the punishment. It would be kinda up to them. They turned out really, really great. Hopefully my grandkids will be the same way. But it’s not like it was. It’s a little harder. There’s not a lot of “Yes, sir,” “No, sir” stuff anymore.
Holcomb
Not a whole lot. No.
Scott
My two boys still say, “Yes, sir” to me. They’re in their 40s. There’s a lot of things that I try to instill in people, especially the younger generation—my kids, my grandkids, or whatever. Because I’ve seen so many people that’s passed on—I’ve been with them when they’ve passed on. Even at a young age, like I was out here, and you miss them.
But when you see a person that’s 80 years old or 60 years old or whatever, and they’re sick and you’ve been knowin’ this person for a long time—it doesn’t matter if you know them or not. But when you see them there and they don’t recognize you hardly but they try—don’t think of that person as what you see. Think of that person that you knew. That same person’s still inside there. Talk to them just as if they were 20 years old or 30 years old, or when you knew them and times were good. Talk to them the same way as when you knew them, because they’re still the same person. I don’t care if they weigh 60 pounds with cancer and they’re 80 years old and they’re dying. They’re still the same person as they were when they were 15 years old or 25, and out here dancing and having a good time. And that’s what I like to see people think of instead of, you know. I don’t want to be around them. That’s the wrong attitude to take. The person’s still in there. That’s the way I look at it.
Holcomb
That’s great advice.
Scott
It works for me.
Holcomb
There’s a lot true in that.
Um, yeah. We could walk around there to the trees and then we’ll see what we can make note of here.
Scott
Sure.
Holcomb
Back out this way, right?
Scott
Yes. This was the living room.
Holcomb
This was the living room?
Scott
This was where they sat around and watched TV. Like I said, my room was down there on the end where Kim’s office is. And where your office is, that was two rooms too I think.
Holcomb
Yeah. It probably was.
So the—and then, were the—you said the women and men were separated?
Scott
Yes. The women I believe lived in this area and the men lived in the other wing.
Holcomb
And then the colored section was out there?
Scott
Yes.
Holcomb
Okay.Thanks. I’m trying to orient.
Scott
I thought they had some pictures out here. I don’t see anything.
Holcomb
Well, they do change the pictures around.
Scott
Yeah.
Holcomb
Every now and then too. Sorry. Excuse us. That’s okay. I just don’t want to step on it. Thank you.
Scott
This right here was the colored dining area.
Holcomb
Right. We use that for storage now.
Scott
The driveway came here around the building. About where those gates are was a building—a big wood building—and that was where the colored folks lived. And that was orange grove. Straight on down—probably about where that stop sign is, where that car just went through—through the orange grove that was the barn. The cows would come across the road in the evening. They would walk right across, and Will would milk them, and I would go down and bring the milk back up to the kitchen here. This is the kitchen. Straight across here was the infirmary where the new building is. The driveway went around to the infirmary. To the left back in this area was a washhouse. Right here was a garage, and the other side of that was a big chicken coop. That’s where we had the chickens. On down in the front down here, across from the barn on the right, was the hog pen, and that’s where I had to take the hog slop. This was all orange grove, even all the way around in the back. Where that building is over there that was orange grove. This was a field out here all the way over to where the fire station is. We had to keep a lot of that mowed.
Holcomb
You said the pasture came up this way?
Scott
The pasture part actually started in front of the building right here to the left of the driveway. That was pasture all the way around. On the other side of the road, all the way around way back past the cemetery. There’s a lot of acreage back there. It was all pasture. I’m sure you know where the cemetery is.
Holcomb
I haven’t been, so I don’t have an idea.
Scott
It’s just on down past the tower. But that was basically the layout of the place here. We had deliveries. In between here you go down to the bottom. That’s where the boiler room…
Holcomb
So in between these two porches here?
Scott
Yeah. Let’s take a look.
Holcomb
Yeah.
Scott
You go through there and go down to the right. And you’ll see it looks like a cellar, but that’s the boiler room. They’ve changed it now. The oak trees have got to be this oak tree, that one. I think they’re planted all around.
Holcomb
Now were you here when any of them were planted?
Scott
No. It was probably four or five years ago. Now this was all driveway here. And by where we’re standing now is where the garage was. And the chicken coop was on up. There was some big oak trees planted there, that’s where we parked the cars on the superintendent’s side.
Holcomb
Because this was the front?
Scott
Right. This was our entrance. We used this entrance. The office is in the front right there. Deliveries would come around back up between the two buildings here and go into the kitchen. They’d back the trucks in there to drop things off and pick things up.
Holcomb
It makes sense, but it’s different to see it, because what is the front entrance now was the side.
Scott
Right. The office was the main thing back then. Back in the late ‘50s, this was a two-lane road. Then they started to changing[sic] it and made it into a four-lane. And they finally opened it up. There was some oak trees down there. I think they’re gone now—the big oak trees—but there’s where Lily and Willie used to sit and watch the traffic under the oak trees.
Holcomb
On the other side of this road here?
Scott
Oh, yeah. Right there on the edge of 17-92. That’s where they would sit and people would blow their horns at them.
Holcomb
You said it was two-lane then?
Scott
Well, actually it was four-lane, but the road wasn’t finished until about 1960. Then it was four-lane. There used to be a little tavern right there. I guess the building’s still there. They had some bad wrecks people pulling out after it was four-lane, because they weren’t used to it.
Holcomb
I bet.
Scott
I do have some movie clips of coming up here and parking cars and walking to the garage and stuff here. Some of my friends—when I was a teenager, we’d come back from the beach and walk up and down through here, play with the dog and stuff. If I could ever get them all together. But the oak trees, I guess, are these. I’m not sure. You can see them planted all around. I have no idea how many they ended up planting.
Holcomb
I don’t either. We’ll see what we can find out about that.
Scott
Well, it would be nice. Even if there was just one little sign that said, “Oak trees planted in memory of…” Or something like that. That’s a nice building.
Holcomb
Yes. It is. It’s a great space in there too, for displays and presentations. I’m sure you’ve seen it.
Scott
The infirmary was there and that’s when I pulled up there. There was a ramp to the infirmary. And when I was 16—I turned 16—I pulled the car around and I saw Sam McFadden, with no legs—black guy. I would visit him. He’d come out and get a little sun once in a while. I told him, “Sam, I’m going to take you to Oviedo when I get my license.” And he just couldn’t wait. When I pulled up there that day, and they wheeled him down in the chair to the car. I had the door open. I set him in that car. His face was all lit up. He’d been in there for so many years. He loved it. I think it did me more good than it did him.
Holcomb
Sure. Doing something like that for somebody else.
Scott
When they closed this place down, I tried to get in touch with him and the rest of them. They moved him to [inaudible] and whatever home. I don’t know what happened to him. I tried to do a follow up, but I never could.
Holcomb
Is that home in Sanford?
Scott
Yeah. It was on West Ninth Street I believe it was.
Holcomb
West Ninth?
Scott
They changed a few things around.
Holcomb
Yeah.
Scott
Like I said, I don’t know where the pictures are out here. They used to have I don’t know how many pictures.
Holcomb
I’m sure we still have them somewhere.
Scott
Yeah. Probably.
Holcomb
Thank you very much for your time, Dave. I appreciate it.
Scott
It’s not a problem. I enjoy doing it. I ramble on too much sometimes when I get to talking because most of the memories are really good. I try to delete all the bad stuff.
Holcomb
[laughs]Well, for our purposes the rambling is good [laughs].
Scott
Yeah. There’s some bad stuff. Sam lived right here in this one room right here and he was an old man. A good friend of mine. He was real quiet. He loved it when I moved back here, because he had someone to talk to.
Holcomb
Was he the one with emphysema?
Scott
No. That was another man. They had moved him in there afterwards—after Sam passed away. Then I missed him. Then the other guy with emphysema cigarettes—oh, that about killed me. Then he passed away too. People—some of them stayed here a few years. They hung around. But a lot of them were really bad when they brought them in.
Holcomb
Yeah. I imagine so.
Scott
But that’s about it.
Holcomb
Okay. Thank you again.
Scott
If you can remember anything or want me for anything, just give me a call.
Holcomb
Yeah. Thank you.
Lester
I’m Dr. Connie [L.] Lester, the Director of the RICHES program, and you are listening to the RICHES documentary podcast.
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Lester
Welcome to the RICHES documentary podcast. RICHES—the Regional Initiative for Collecting the Histories, Experiences, and Stories of Central Florida—is an umbrella program housing interdisciplinary public history projects that bring together different departments at the University of Central Florida with profit and nonprofit sectors of the community in order to promote the collection and preservation of the region’s history. By facilitating research that records and presents the stories of communities, businesses, and institutions in Central Florida, RICHES seeks to provide the region with a deeper sense of its heritage. This series feature a podcast every two weeks, in the middle and at the end of each month that will explore various aspects of Central Florida history.
In today’s episode, “Gentrification and Urban Renewal: Revitalizing Central Florida’s African-American Communities,” Geoffrey Cravero examines some of the reasons that these once flourishing neighborhoods began to decline, and what city leaders are doing to save these communities.
Cravero
Hi. I’m Geoffrey Cravero, and in today’s episode, “Gentrification and Urban Renewal: Revitalizing Central Florida’s African-American Communities,” we’re gonna be speaking with Representative Geraldine [F.] Thompson and Dr. Benjamin [D.] Brotemarkle about the Parramore district of Downtown Orlando, and Dr. Julian C. Chambliss and Fairolyn Livingston about Hannibal Square, the African-American side of Winter Park, Florida. Central Florida’s African-American community was once relatively prosperous, consisting of a thriving business district, populated by a mix of professionals and working-class families, and in many ways, quite self-sufficient.
This podcast will examine some of the factors that led to the ultimate decline of these regions, the efforts that have gone into restoring them, and the overall effectiveness of those campaigns. Geraldine Thompson has been a representative in the Florida State Legislature since 2006. A former educator and administrator at Valencia Community College, she is also a founder of the Wells’ Built Museum of African American History and Culture.
The Executive Director of the Florida Historical Society, Dr. Brotemarkle has written several books on Florida history and culture, including Crossing Division Street: An Oral History of the African American Community in Orlando and Beyond the Theme Parks: Exploring Central Florida. You might also recognize him as the producer and host of Florida Frontiers, the weekly radio magazine of the Florida Historical Society.
Dr. Julian Chambliss is an associate professor of history at Rollins College, specializing in 19th and 20th century urban America, African-American history in Florida, race and ethnicity, American planning history, as well, as other topics related to the urban experience.
Born in Hannibal Square, Fairolyn Livingston has spent most of her life in the community, and is now Manager of the Hannibal Square Heritage Center.
I’d like to thank each of our guests for taking the time to speak with us. I asked Representative Thompson and Dr. Brotemarkle to tell us about the rise and fall of Orlando’s Parramore community.
Thompson
Parramore was founded in the 1800s, uh, when the city was just, uh, beginning to form, and it was the location where many African Americans lived initially. The city was separated, as was the case throughout the South, generally by the railroad tracks. You had the, uh, white community on one side and the African-American community on the other side. So, uh, Parramore is just west of the railroad tracks in Downtown Orlando, and the pioneers in the African-American community who made significant contributions to the City [of Orlando] and to Central Florida lived in Parramore.
When the community went through integration at the end of, uh, “legally sanctioned apartheid” —is what I call it—uh, the idea was that, in order to get true integration, you had to close some of the major institutions in Parramore. So you saw the schools, uh, close. Many of the churches also moved out. Uh, the Parramore area had become saturated, and people needed other places to live, and so, uh, places like Washington Shores, the Richmond Heights area, uh, Carver Shores, were established and many people moved to those areas which were, at that time, considered the suburbs, and many of the professionals who lived in Parramore also moved, and so you left behind, uh, people who were, for the most part, renters, who did not own the properties where they lived. Uh, there was very little that was owner-occupied in Parramore—a lot of absentee landlords.
So when you lost the major institutions like your schools, your churches, the professional individuals who had made it the economic and the social hub for African Americans in Central Florida, then an element, uh, of crime began to—to build, and, uh, there were a lot of problems, and quite frankly, a lot of the decision-makers, who were deciding what was going to happen and how Central Florida, uh, would grow, did not really consider Parramore worthy of much of an investment, and so that’s what led to a blighted area for a very long time.
There have been a lot of very effective efforts to bring business back into the community. Uh, there is one charter school now in the community—the Nap Ford [Community] School. Other than Nap Ford, however, there are still no schools in Parramore. The students are bussed out to nine different, uh—different schools in—in the area. Uh, the businesses that have come into the area include, uh, the Bank of America. You now have the Federal Courthouse that is also built in the Parramore area, as well, as the Florida A[gricultural] & M[echnical] University College of Law. Uh, the Wells’ Built Museum, which is in the former Wells’ Built Hotel, um, is celebrating now 10 years—our 10th anniversary, and so we have been able to document, and to preserve, and to share a lot of the history of Parramore, which makes people much more aware that it is a significant co—uh, community, and as we revitalize and as we grow, it’s something worth saving.
We are in the process of, uh, restoring the residence of the person who built the Wells’ Built. His name was William Monroe Wells, one of the early African-American physicians here. He came here in 1917, and in addition to a thriving medical practice, he had a social club, which was called the South Street Casino, and he brought, uh, big bands, [Edward] “Duke” [Kennedy] Ellington, [William] “Count” [James] Basie, Ella [Jane] Fitzgerald, to perform at the South Street Casino, which he owned, and after the entertainers, uh, finished performances, they didn’t have a place to stay. So that was his motivation for building a hotel, and, uh, so in addition to refurbishing the Wells’ Built and operating it as a museum of African-American history, we’re now in the process of refurbishing his home, which was located where the new Amway Center, uh, is, And that’s another business that has come into Parramore, which is Downtown Orlando, and so the home was moved rather than, uh, to have it demolished, and we will make it part of the museum complex, and we’ll operate a museum store in Dr. Wells’ residence. So his legacy is alive and well, on South Street.
Brotemarkle
Well, there are many factors that—that led to the demise of the hotel and casino. Uh, first of all, eh, as—as great and wonderful and necessary as the civil rights laws of the 1960s were, once African Americans could move anywhere they wanted to, uh—and this is not unique to the Parramore neighborhood. This happened to communities throughout the South, in particular, uh, but many of the community leaders—that[sic] helped keep the infrastructure of the community together—moved out of the neighborhood. So consequently, in many cases, uh, all that were—were left were the people who couldn’t afford to move anywhere else, and actually, in the case of the Parramore neighborhood, this had actually started a little bit before that in the 1950s. People had started migrating over to the Washington Shores neighborhood in Orlando, but the—the—the civil rights laws definitely contributed to the continued exodus, uh, from the Parramore neighborhood of many of the people, uh—the community leaders. Uh, also, the building of I[nterstate Highway]-4, uh, right through—right by the—the Parramore neighborhood kind of—into that neighborhood, uh, helped to break that up a little bit, as well. Uh, that was, uh, another factor.
Uh, so as these—as the community leaders moved out of the neighborhood, the Parramore neighborhood itself entered, uh, a state of social and economic decline, and, uh, I—I think it is starting to, uh, pull out of it a little bit, and that was really part of the purpose of the Wells’ Built Museum of African American History and Culture—was to be an economic engine for the neighborhood, and hopefully, tap into this cultural and heritage tourism and bring people into the neighborhood for that reason. It is a fascinating era because, uh, again, between—with—with Division Street as the dividing line the—the Parramore neighborhood was really a thriving, self-sustained community, uh, parallel to the—to the white community in Orlando. Uh, here were institutions, Jones High School, uh, many of the churches, uh, that really created a strong fabric. Uh, uh, there was a, uh, uh, African-American chamber of commerce there in the Parramore neighborhood. There were black theatres. There were everything that the community needed right there. Uh, tailors, and—and businesses of all types were right there, and—and of course, the Wells’ Built Hotel and South Street Casino right in the middle of all this—this—this thriving African-American community.
So it’s really an interesting, uh, look at history, and—and also, the unintended negative impact of those civil rights laws in the 1960s, again, as—as wonderful and as necessary as they were, they really did have this—this unintended negative impact when, uh, some of the community leaders moved out, and, again, the building of I-4, kinda right through the heart of the community, and, uh, the East-West Expressway too, meeting right there, uh, caused further problems, uh, but I—I think that the community is—is pulling out of that era of social and economic decline that it suffered in the late 20th century, and hopefully the Wells’ Built Museum of African American History and Culture is contributing to that.
Cravero
Dr. Chambliss and Mrs. Livingston describe some of the factors that enabled Hannibal Square and Winter Park to grow into thriving communities, and how this prosperity has affected the development and gentrification of the region.
Chambliss
Well, in that early period, um, Hannibal Square, was, I think, able to grow and be successful because, of the model of, uh, attracting residents, promoting, uh, Winter Park as a sort of like leisure, uh, vacation destination, uh, and this has really become at the core of the identity of Winter Park. If you think about Winter Park over time, it really was founded by [Loring] Chase and [Oliver E.] Chapman as a sort of destination location for people who wanted to sort of live a certain kind of sort of leisurely lifestyle. Well, into, uh, 20th century that—that has been maintained.
If you look at the growth of Winter Park, uh, which grew rapidly after, uh—in the 1930s and 1940s and 1950s, like, and the people of Winter Park recognize. It’s part of the reason that it grew is because, like, they really sort of like saw the place as a kind of residential haven, and the fact—by the time you get to the 1950s, um, the city is known as the “City of Homes.” Um, and part of this is because they have like a large number of wealthy residents. Again, those wealthy residents have servants, and some of those servants are working in—in—are black people, uh, working in these white homes and then going back across the railroad tracks to Hannibal Square. So like, they have this steady work from all these rich people and that really does affect Hannibal Square.
At the same time, there’s a number of architectural—James Gamble Rogers is a very well-known architect—really sort of crystallized the architectural identity of Winter Park, with a fresh revival—a Medi—a Mediterranean revival style. So when you look at the homes, there’s a lot of like talk about Winter Park and Park Avenue—really sort of like crystallizes that sort of European style, uh, café culture look, right? And that really starts in 1960, and they really sort of keep trying to promote that. The chamber of commerce does a great job of trying to promote that and maintains it really today. it’s one of the reasons that these places really talk about Winter Park. They tend to talk about it as a place where you just want to kind of like stroll, in sharp contrast to the rest of the sort of retail and vacation experience in the rest of Central Florida, and as a consequence, the growth of the east side of Winter Park has been phenomenal, and the value of land there has grown tremendously, and so much so that by the time you get to the late 1990s, uh, arguably, the east side of Winter Park is built out, alright? So you can’t cheaply acquire land on the east side of Winter Park. You can buy a lot and—and really, we’re talking—we’re talking about the high-end of the real estate bubble, and Winter Park was one of the places where values were extremely high, and so the east side, really, by—by every stretch of the imagination is really sort of built up in value, um, over the period of the town.
The west side, which was the black side—which was sort of like off limits because it was—because of segregation—had lagged behind. It started out with the development of the town, as I—as I said, a sort of economic area where African-American property owners, and—and business owners, and African-American businesses were flourishing in Hannibal Square, but very quickly, with the end of—of official Jim Crow segregation, um, you see middle-class people moving out, and the median income and the median age on the west side of Winter Park really starts to—the income starts to go down. The age starts to go up, and services for the west side don’t keep. in fact, [inaudible] great stories about the fact that the roads, on the west side of Winter Park, weren’t really sort of kept up at the same level as the roads on the east side of Winter Park, And other kinds of infrastructure issues like that, and as a consequence, the value of homes and property on the west side lagged behind that was on the east side of Winter Park. So value of black property lagged behind value of white property, which is common.
As a result of that, there’s a lot of push, um, to do something about the—the view—the view-scape and the housing stock on the west side, and if you go back and look at some of the language that people use in the city council meetings or in some of the things that people are saying when they—they’re pointing to houses that are boarded up, they’re talking about a spike in crime, and indeed, there is a real concern that Hannibal Square, which by this time, is no longer home of like businesses more like light retail and bars and things like that—convenience stores—that are really the haven for—in the minds of white residents, at least—crime and violence. Indeed, there is[sic] the police reports show large number of drug arrests or suspicious crime in the west side in 1980s and early 1990s, and it really sort of spurs on dialogue about what needs to be done to improve the housing stock to clean up Hannibal Square and basically correct this problem, and there are a variety of reasons for this. I mean, some of it was the crime, but also, if you look at the way that the town is laid out, if you’re coming in through[?] the main drag, coming in—off of, like, Orlando Avenue, one of the main sort of like entry points into the city of Winter Park is through, um, Morris [Avenue], and you basically go through the heart of the black community to do that, and if you go back to the 1990s, that looked radically different than it does now.
If you look at it now it looks actually quite nice, ‘cause it’s been rezoned and it—there’s new buildings, uh—office buildings, mix-use stuff—but back then, it—there were homes there, and some of them were boarded up, and the City had routinely had issues or had programs in place where they were trying to address this question, of, like, the quality of housing stock on the west side. They had some housing rehabilitation programs that they created in the 1970s. They supported, of course, you know, the creation of the Winter Park Community Center in Hannibal Square, but really, you know, the economy changed, as I said, and the median age started to creep up.
So you get a large number of elderly people who, eh, own property—been in their family for generations—but they couldn’t keep it up in a way that the City might want, and so—so this created an opportunity for developers to come into, um, the west side and champion sort of a new push to sort of rehabilitate the region, and this made sense from the City’s standpoint, because, like, depressed property is low—low tax property. so if you want to increase your tax base, you want to improve the—the value of the property there—but it also created, like, a high gentri—gentrifying push, because, remember, you can’t cheaply build anything on the east side of town. So for most developers, they’re really looking to do a big project. they kind of have to do it on the west side of town. They had to do it west of the railroad tracks.
So in the late 1990s and the ear—early 2000s, the City of Winter Park creates a Community Redevelopment Agency—the CRA—and the sort of focal point of the CRA is the sort of box that is bordered by Park Avenue on the east, Webster Avenue on the north, and, like, [U.S. Route] 17-92, and then Fairbanks [Avenue]. So it’s a huge block, and basically it’s Park Avenue and Downtown Winter Park, and the black side of town. So that’s a huge swath of land, and it—it’s prime real estate that could be developed, but is also, primarily, the heart of the black community, and almost immediately, large numbers of residents in the black community recognized that the City’s efforts to improve the area of the CRA was going to push out the black community. Now, from the City’s standpoint, the City’s always maintained that its goal was to maintain the character of the black community or the character of Hannibal Square, but if you’re going to allow traditional market forces to be your primary vehicle to achieve this, then gentrifying effects are almost unavoidable.
You can’t, as the city’s done—like the city’s done a, uh, sort of three-tier sort of approach. It’s provided loans for businesses to move into Hannibal Square. It totally redesigned, um, Shady Park, which is in the center of Hannibal Square, in response to some of the crime and complaints of some of the businesses that were being enticed into the—into the area, because of the CRA. So the old part was—had a lot of benches and—and shading covers, and—and older people would hang out there and talk, and the new park sort of took all that away, and is much more aesthetically pleasing, but is also a place where you can’t really linger, which made a lot of sense, in terms of trying to address some of these questions about crime and—and—and disruption associated with that area—um, but they also worked very diligently to eliminate some of the bars, some of the focal points of crime, and that was successful. They moved in new businesses so that Dexter’s on Winter Park, uh—Dexter’s a fairly well-known restaurant chain in the area—where it became like really an anchor and they created a parking lot for it, and then a number of other businesses—light retail, service-oriented, and restaurant businesses—moved in, and of course there was a train—a change in the infrastructure or the sort of decorative infrastructure of the street. So like you had the decorative brick put in, and, like, new lightening-like fixtures—so basically, extending the feel and look of Park Avenue, down New England [Avenue] into, uh, the heart of the community, which was Hannibal Square.
Of course, African Americans felt and, I think, some of them continue to feel that that process is deliberately pushing them out, and they have a point, because once all that—all that was in place, one of the things that started happening is that the—the tax assessment for the area started to change. People had previously—been sort of locked at a tax assessment of like, you know, a very low number. Everything gets reassessed when a large number of businesses start moving in. So these are older people. Remember, the demographics of the area are that the older people are staying and younger people are moving out. So the old people tend to be on fixed incomes, and pensions, living off their retirement savings. So a big hit, in terms of—“I used to pay $500 in taxes. Now, I’m paying a thousand.” It’s a huge deal, and because the property on the west side, as I said, had not kept up with property on the east side, there was a new assessment on all the value of the property. So people were being offered you know, two, three, four times what they bought the property for originally—and to move out—and some of them were, and this is one of the things that really sort of like characterized the region.
So, um, at the height of the real estate bubble, there was tremendous gentrifying pressure on Hannibal Square, and lots of developers were active in the area, and probably the most famous ones was Dan Bellows, who’s usually associated with the transformation of Hannibal Square. he has a number of big projects, and, you know, sort of mixed-use with retail on the bottom and residential on the top, and that really sort of, like, changed the nature of the community, and Bellows is often painted as a boogeyman, and there are a number of stories associated with him, but he’s sort of emblematic of a kind of push to create new construction in the area, in part because that’s the place where you can with relatively minimal investment do something big, and that has been the sort of overriding problem for the west side for many years.
There has been, for well over a decade—I mean, since the late 1990s, I think, there’s been a sort of push to—“There’s going to be the in here. I want to improve the west side. I want to bring more businesses here,” and as a result, uh, longtime residents have, um, sort of been displaced. There are new businesses there, but they don’t really cater to the residents, or nor do they really employ the residents, which is also really problematic. I mean, you don’t really see west side residents going to eat at Dexter’s. So from a sort of symbolic standpoint, African Americans feel that they’re being pushed down, and from an economic standpoint, there are push and pull factors that are hastening the exit of African Americans in the area.
Livingston
Leading up to, uh, the Civil Rights Movement and even probably as early as 19—late 1940s, after the, uh—World War II, the job market begin[sic] to change a bit. More opportunities will open up for, uh—for Afro-Americans. Many Afro –Americans, uh, went away—military, school, whatever the case may be—and didn’t come back, because they felt there was nothing here for them, outside of service to somebody else. They wanted to have real careers and—and—and do big things in the world, and as a result of that, the community began to age, if you will, and certainly after the Civil Rights Movement and—and moving forward, many more of our young people are moving away, because they feel that they don’t have access or they can’t make it in this area in—in—in Winter Park, you know?
It’s been a painful process for them. Generally, uh, when you’re talking gentrification, between the original people who were in a place, and the wealthier people who come into the place, there’s usually a group—a group in between, but for us, we went—we went—we went right from, um, families being displaced to a business area that really doesn’t have any services that local people find of service to themselves. So gentrification’s been a hurtful process, because when people come in to redevelop, they don’t come in to redevelop for the people who are there. They don’t get input from the people in the community, because that’s not what’s gonna drive the dollar, you know? Nobody’s gonna come in and put in affordable housing or affordable rental units outside of a group such as Habitat for Humanity, who’s doing a great job, and the Hannibal Square Community Land Trust. Uh, people felt that they were just pushed aside, and the most painful thing was the picture that was painted of the neighborhood. That’s what they did. They just [inaudible] and made it like a noose, and put it around the necks of the people in this neighborhood, and pulled the chair.
See, some people have been injured over and over and over again. They were injured during slavery. Then, after Reconstruction, they were injured again, and then, Jim Crow came along, and they were injured. So they’ve been injured over and over, and when you keep injuring people, and they[?] don’t get a chance to heal, it—it can really do something to—to them. You know, even though on the outside, they look cold, and they’re moving forward, and they’re doing things, there’s still a pain in their souls that is just almost undescribable[sic].
Cravero
I’d like to thank our guests, Representative Thompson, Dr. Brotemarkle, Dr. Chambliss, and Mrs. Livingston for joining our discussion. I’m Geoffrey Cravero. Thank you for listening.
Lester
Thank you for listening to the RICHES documentary podcast. Feel free to contact us with any questions or comments on the program that you just heard. Please join us for the next episode, “[Episode 5:] A History of Gay Days.”
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