Schwandt
This is an oral history of Bettye [Jean Aulin] Reagan. The interview is conducted by Rebecca Schwandt at Bettye Reagan’s home in Oviedo, er—Lake Mary, Florida…
Reagan
Mmhmm.
Schwandt
On April 2nd, 2015. Could you please state your full name and birth date for the record?
Reagan
Okay, Bettye Jean Reagan. Uh, January 27th, 1934. Uh, born actually in Sanford in the hospital, which I was the first one in my family to be born in the hospital. Everybody else had been born at home, [laughs] which was in Oviedo, and, um, that’s where I was raised.
Schwandt
And what is one of your earliest childhood memories?
Reagan
My earliest childhood memories was[sic]—we lived, uh—I don’t know the name of the road. It goes, uh—it goes beside the Lawton House—where the Lawton House, uh—there’s one that goes towards Winter Park and the other one that comes beside it. We lived down that road, across from where the [Oviedo High] School was. That was in a big ol’ two story house there, and one—I guess I’ll never forget this. When I was—we moved out of that house when I was six years old, but, uh, one day my little brother[1] and I decided to go for a walk out—and you went through the back—we had a—a garden and we had an orange grove. If you kep’ on goin’, there was a great big ditch there, you walked over, which was scary. We could go all the way to where the cemetery is today. It was there then, through the woods, and we decided we just go for—and we went, which we—unheard of. Today, it would be terrible they would have called the police [laughs], but—and we’re out there wandering around in—in the cemetery, and this lady, who knew who we were, came and got us and took us back home, and another time, we went down there, and—and I was gonna fix it so my brother, who’s two years younger than I am—he had to be—if I was six he had to be four—and I made him a fishing pole out of a stick, a piece of string, and I don’t know how I did it, but I took a straight pin and bent it. We got some bread and we tied that string on there, and we went down there to that ditch that we had to cross over, which is really what it was, but it had water in it—to fish, and my little brother fell in head first, and his—there—and his feet are sticking up and I pulled him out [laughs]. He’s covered with mud [laughs], but that was a sca—I used to have nightmares after that about that incident.
It scared me so bad, and another time, at that same area, where my daddy[2] had planted all the strawberries, I took the bucket one day and I picked every strawberry in the patch, and they were all green, so we didn’t have strawberries that year [laughs]. That’s[sic] my first memories [laughs], but then, I swear I started school in first grade, and I got to go to school a year early. I went when I was five. My birthday was in January, but you were—but—and you weren’t supposed to go to school, but, uh, a man from Oviedo, Mr.—Mr. Gore, was a—on the school board, and, uh, his son was Frank—Frankie D. Gore, and he’s a school—well, I guess he’s not now, but he was a school teacher—grew up to be a school teacher. He got to go—his birthday was the same as mine was. So my Mama[3] said, “Well, if you[sic] can go to school—well, if he can go, you can go.” So they had to let me go. So I got to go to school when I was five and get out early, and those are some of the first things I remember [sniffs].
Schwandt
And what kind of games did you play as a young child?
Reagan
We, you know—we made up our games. We did things—I guess we couldn’t say we—we, uh—I remember that, uh, we took the—we—We lived in another—we moved two more times, and we lived up where the—we were surrounded by orange groves, and every year, when they got ready to pick the oranges, they would come out and they would dump all the orange crates. If you know what an orange—old-fashioned orange box looks—it’s got a division in the middle and they would stack them, and we would make a great fort. Me and my brother would get out there and make this great big fort and, uh, play in that.
Then, we would also fix a, uh—a little thing in the back yard and play storekeeper, and in those days, you—what you did with you garbage—you didn’t have garbage collection. You dug a great big hole in your backyard somewhere. you put all the—your trash that you had and we put it in the hole and then—and you tried to burn it, if you could, and then you’d fill the hole in, and then you dig another hole, but we would get anything that came in a carton, a box, and we would save all those and we would put them up on the table, and we would play like we had a store, and y—anybody came to the store, and we would pull the—we got in trouble for this—we pulled the leaves off the orange tree. That was our money. We made out like that was dollars, and we would do that, and we would, uh, play cops and robbers, and we—we would get a little saw, which my daddy had—we weren’t s’posed to use, and saw out little—just a little thing that look like a—a pistol, but of course, it wasn’t. It was just a little thing, and we would run around and chase each other, and then another time, we decided we would go find Indian mound[sic]. We had a wild imagination, I guess, and we went out with a shovel, and we found a little mound way away from the house. I don’t know how we got away with all that, and we would dig and dig. ‘Course, we never found anything [laughs], but we—but we spent a lot of time doing that sort of thing.
We—you just came up with your own ideas, you know, but as far as havin’ a lot of toys, we didn’t, but we—we made, uh, treehouses. We’d climb a tree, and put boards up on it and climb up, and we didn’t really have a house, but we would put a couple boards up there—make out like we did. Or we would do another thing. We would cut off palmetto[sic]—big, uh, palmetto[sic] palms, you know, and we would put them around some trees, and we would have a little house, and that’s the kinda thing we did growin’ up, but as far as havin’ a lot of toys or anything, we didn’t. We didn’t do that. Not like today, and of course, there was no TV, of course, and you listened to the radio at night. That’s the only time you listen to it.
Schwandt
Do you remember any radio shows?
Reagan
Yes, uh, The Lone Ranger. Every—we always listened to The Lone Ranger, and, uh, something else came on. Um, cowboy show came on—another one. I can’t think of the name of that one. Trigger—who was[4]—he had the horse named Trigger? Uh, anyway, we—we did listen to those kind of sh—and then, uh, Grand Ole Opry came on Every Saturday night. We listened to that, uh, but—and everybody just sat around the radio.it was quiet and you listened to it.
Schwandt
Who were your childhood friends?
Reagan
Uh, some of the—the same people that I started out with in the first grade. I—they were still with me when I graduated [laughs], and I don’t know how many people were in the first grade, becau—but probably 20 or so, and, uh, when I graduated there were nine, but most of ‘em, I had started out with in the first grade, and, uh, some—a couple of ‘em lived close to me, and we would go to each other’s house n’ play, but—or, actually, a lot of times, we went to the school ground and play. They have swing sets there, and, uh, they had a field to play baseball and all that, and—and then, another thing, we had a cow, and—to get—for milk—and every day, my daddy would take that cow with a chain on it and go across the road to the school grounds [laughs], which had some woods on it—a little bit of woods, and he would stake the cow out there on—and the cow would eat the grass on the school ground, and then we’d bring it in every night, and that was—nobody thought there was anything wrong with that. That was just what you did, and it’s crazy. Things change so much, but today, you couldn’t think of doin’ something like that [laughs].
Another thing that we would do when we got a little bit older, um—where the school is, the railroad track ran right behind the school, and we would be watchin’ the ball game on Sunday afternoon, which everybody in town went, and there would be s—just a bunch of people get up a game—you know, choose up, and then they would play baseball, and everybody would be there to watch it, and these boys would figure out how to let…
[clock chimes]
Reagan
Some of the air out of the tires on the car and get it on the railroad track, and they would—we would be sitting her watching the ball game and way out there past the field, there goes the car down the railroad track, and that was the highlight of the thing [laughs]—of the day. I don’t know how they did that. Sometimes, they’d get off and it’d go, “Bump, bump, bump, bump” down there too [laughs]. Oh.
Schwandt
Did you have any other animals besides the milk cow?
Reagan
Oh, yeah. Well, we had, uh—we had a dog. I had two dogs I’ll never forget. Uh, the first one we got—well[?], we—we got this white Spitz, and we had that dog for 14 years. His name was Troubles, and, uh, he—he was, uh, just a lifelong pet, and, uh, then one time, my daddy brought home a little, black puppy. Uh, when he was workin’ with—for Nelson and Company, which was Wheeler’s.[5] Uh, he was, uh, a man who checked the fruit. He was a fruit tester, and when they would go to pick oranges in the groves, he had all this equipment and he would, uh—slice the fruit and put the juice in, and he knew how to measure to see how much solid it had, how much sugar it had. They had to do that when they picked the oranges to know what kind of thing it was. Anyway, while he was—was gone one day, somebody gave him a little puppy. He brought it home, and we already had that other dog, and my mother said—and I thought it was my dog. It was my dog. Uh, I called her Black Beauty, ‘cause I had just read that book, Black Beauty, and I had that that dog for a couple weeks. My mother kept sayin’ all the time, “You can’t keep that dog. You can’t keep that dog.” Well, I kept it three or four months, and one day, I came home from school and the dog wasn’t there, and my mother had given it to somebody who was walkin’ by and saw it, and she asked if they wanted that dog. She—we couldn’t have two dogs. She gave my dog away, and I was very, very heartbroken [laughs] about that, but, uh, Anyway, we knew who had it and we used to go down and see the dog all the time, bum, but that was—that was the only pets we ever had was those two dogs and the cow, of course. [inaudible]. That was it.
Schwandt
How many siblings do you have?
Reagan
I had, uh—I had two sisters and two brothers, and I still have one sister and one brother. The others are all passed away.
Schwandt
And how did you get along with your siblings?
Reagan
Good. Well, there was a big, uh—there was seven years difference between my older—my older sister, [6] who’s here, and, uh, I had a—my older sister was 10 years older than me, and then [Alice] Kathryn [Aulin Bunch] was next to her, and then I had a brother[7]—was seven years older, and then there was me and my younger brother, who’s two years younger, who still lives in Oviedo, and, uh, so, we were, uh—my sister will be the first to tell you that me and my brother were spoiled, because we were younger, then there was seven years difference, and by the time we came along, we—we didn’t have to do all the work that they had to do, and she says we got by with a lot of stuff, which not true [laughs], but, uh, ‘cause they grew up and they left home. We were still at home, you know, for seven more years, but, uh—and[?] today she lives in so[?] close to me now. She used to live in Orlando most all her life and now she lives here.
Schwandt
What did you want to be when you grew up?
Reagan
Oh, I wanted to be, uh, a teacher, and I wanted to teach English and literature, which I loved, and, uh, P.E.,[8] and the reason I wanted to teach P.E.—one reason—cause I loved sports and all that. We used to have these girls in our P.E. class, which we would go, eh—different times of the year, you did different things. We had basketball. We actually didn’t have a lot of sports, but we played basketball and softball. That was the only two sports that girls played, and, uh—but those girls—so many of them were la—lazy, and they would just say, “Oh, um, you know, I’m havin’ my period and I can’t play,” and so they’d sit in the gym, you know, and just sit there and not do anything, and that wasn’t true. They[?] just lazy, and I always said, “One day I’ma be a P.E. teacher and nobody’s gonna be sitting in there on the bench, ‘cause I’m gonna give them a trashcan and they’re gonna walk around the school yard and pick up the trash, if they can’t do anything else.” That was my goal, but I didn’t get to do any of those things [laughs], ‘cause I didn’t get to go to college, as much as I wanted to, Uh, but, uh, it all turned out okay anyway, but that’s…
I loved school. I loved school. I would go to school—as soon as I was old enough to be able to do this—the teachers always came to school in those days—two weeks before school, the teachers would be at school gettin’ their classrooms ready, and they always stayed for two weeks after school was out, and I would go to school and find my teacher that I was gonna have, and I would ask her what I would do to help her, and I would stay there, because I just loved going to school, and I was always not happy when school was out every year. I loved school.
Schwandt
What—you mentioned you wanted to be a—a[sic] English teacher. What were some of your favorite books?
Reagan
Oh, gee [laughs]. Uh, I remember Heidi, when I was little. Heidi, you know? if you ever read that book, and, uh, then, um—oh, after I got older, I remember books I read, but I can’t think of any right off the—oh, I’ll never forget, I’ma tell you a funny story about this book. We had this little book that somebody gave us on the life of Abraham Lincoln, and it was a child’s book. You know it had pictures of Lincoln and it was written so a child could understand. Well, you know when you get up in the high school, you got to write a book report. You gotta read a book every six weeks—well, we did then—and you gotta bi—write a book report on it and turn it in. Well, we had this book. I didn’t do this, but my brothers did. They got the Abraham Lincoln book, which you could read in 15 minutes if you were an adult, you know, and they would almost copy it word for word and turn that thing in for a book report, and got by with it, but I [laughs]—I always remembered that, but I used to, uh, uh—we had—in Oviedo, actually, they had, uh—we had a drugstore, which was the place. The number one place in Oviedo was the drugstore. They also had a section down there where they had like library books—new books that were written today, you know—modern books, and you could go check ‘em out, and, uh, I would go down there and check books out there, and I had a teacher, um, uh, her name was Miss Walker, and, uh, she got married later her name was Ms. Anderson, but she told me about these books and she would recommend a book for me to read, and I would go down to the drugstore and check it out and read those books, and then after I got married and had kids, eh, hardly had time to read, but every day when they took a nap after lunch, I would—I was a member of a book club and I would my—I’m still reading today.
Schwandt
Uh, in an earlier conversation you mentioned your mother was a seamstress.
Reagan
Yes.
Schwandt
Can you elaborate on some of the things she did[?]?
Reagan
Yes. Um, my mother, uh, was—oh, she—she packed oranges for 25 years for Nelson and Company. I remember that well, ‘cause we would go down there sometimes after s—we’d have to go down there and see her about something, but, um—but she also was a seamstress, and she learned to do this on her own. My mother came to Oviedo on the train from Sanford. She only got to go to school to the eighth grade, and she loved school. That was another thing. She lived over here in Sanford and she came out there to operate the telephone service—the—be the telephone operator, and, uh, that’s where she met my father, but, um, I don’t know when or how she learned to sew, because I know that she was young, uh—maybe 16, 17 years old then, when she came out there, and, uh, I never heard about her mother sewing so I—I—I didn’t ever know how she ever learned, but she was very good. She made all our clothes. Never had a bought dress. Never had anything bought, until one day she did get me a big coat. I have a picture. It’s in one of my books. That—it was a—really a store-bought coat. It looked like fur. It wasn’t, but it was—I—I—there’s a picture of me in that book in school, standing there in that big old coat [laughs], but she made, uh—she made all my clothes, and, uh—and my—my sister’s too, and she made—she sewed for other people. They would come to the house, uh, she made clothes for them too, but she made me a—something I’ll never forget—she made me a red coat. It was like a red, wool coat—bright red—and in the inside was satin lines. It was full-length, you know, like a—I was only about 10 years old, and I thought that was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, and I wanted to wear it to school, but she said, “No, that was to wear to church,” you know, that was special. I finally remember I got to wear it to school, but I never forgot that, and to this day, not too long ago, I learned a song that Dolly Parton wrote, my—Coat of Many Colors. I don’t know if you’ve ever heard—are familiar with that. Anyway, that always made me—we weren’t that hard up. It wasn’t made out of rags, like her coat was, but every time I heard that song, I think about my red coat that my mother made me.
So that, uh, and she sewed everything, and then what happened years later—I always said—every night my mother would sit there by the sewing machine and sew, and we’d be sittin’ listenin’ to the radio, and she would sew ‘til late, and I said, “There’s one thing I’m never gonna to do. I am never gonna sew,” ‘cause I thought it was just too much work. Well, got married. my husband gives me a sewing machine for Christmas, plus lessons over in Orlando, so I’d go take lessons, and so I did that, and low ‘n’ behold, I—liked it, and I can—I made my kid’s clothes, and I have pictures—Easter pictures where everybody’s—even my little boys’ coats. we all had dresses that—just alike, and we all had hats and gloves, and we would go to church, and—I mean, some of them are little kids, and we got movies of all this, and we would go to church, and then—especially on Easter and Mother’s Day, we went to Morrison’s Cafeteria after church, the only time we ever went out to eat, and we would go there, and then we would go to Lake Eola in Orlando to the Easter parade, and go up on the platform at—at Lake Eola, and walk across there with our Easter outfits on, and the last thing I made was, uh,—my daughter—one of my daughters got married, and I made her, uh, all the dresses for that, and it was like a Southern Belle-type thing, and the wedding was here at our yard, and, uh, I made all the dresses for that, but I haven’t made—and I made all my kids little—they had a band, uh, that they played. They had guitars and all that, and we had—all of them played, but the—the four younger ones were playing in a little group that started out doin’ it for school, and it got—they got good, and we played it, eh, for Doctor’s Day, for Fourth of July. So I made them outfits alike, you know, vest-like things to wear for that, and that—I really enjoyed being able to do all that. It was neat [taps on table].
Schwandt
Um, in an earlier conversation, you mention several different houses you moved to…
Reagan
Mmhmm.
Schwandt
Throughout the years. Uh, could you describe them?
Reagan
Yes, the first house we lived in, it was called “The West House,” ‘cause Mrs. West owned it—was the one—was across from the school, and then we moved—I’ll never forget that, because we didn’t have electricity at that house. We had lanterns, like oil lanterns, and, uh, Then I remember when we moved, and my mother was so excited, because that—the house we moved in is still there, and, uh, it’s—you go by the Lawton House and go on down, through that red light, up the hill, and it—it’s on the left. It sits up on top that hill there still. It’s funny—it doesn’t look near as big as it did, when I was growin’ up. Everything looks smaller, but, uh, we moved in that house, and—electricity, running water. We had—the house we lived in had a pump outside. You pumped the water and brought it in—before. Now, we had water. You turned the faucet on. You could take a bath in the bathtub. That was a big thing for us. That was our first time to do that, and, uh, so that was—we really liked that house, and my mother wanted to buy it. We didn’t—we were renting, and, uh, the lady sold it to somebody else, so we didn’t get to buy it. So we—we had to move.
So we moved down back into town into an area that—the house is not there today, because it’s the parking lot of First Baptist Church [of Oviedo]—where the house was. It was real small, but then there were only—all my brothers and sisters—the older ones—Just me and my little brother were still home, so it was okay, ‘cause we just needed—and we actually slept on this sleeping porch—bunk beds. I slept on top and he slept on bottom, and then a lil’ later, when I got a little older, they moved me into the dining room, and they opened the couch up every night and slept on it [laughs], but, uh, that’s where we lived, until I left home, and—and then after my mother got sick, uh—she had a, um, Parkinson’s [Disease].
[clock chimes]
Reagan
And she stayed there as long as she could, and, uh—very independent person—very. Always wanted to take care of everything herself. Never wanted any charity from anybody—very independent, and, uh, so, um, she was nur—in the nursing home in Orlando—in Winter Park, and—and then eventually, she ran out of money, and she had to stay there, ‘cause she cou—and she still had her house, and, uh, she—she took the money, and sold the house, and used it to pay her hospital bill until.
Schwandt
Were there any community events that you would attend regularly?
Reagan
Uh, actually, very few, um, community events. Most everything centered around either school or church, and, uh, that[sic] was[sic] the activities for—and the other thing though, in the summertime—very important—the swimming pool. Oviedo had a pool. No—Sanford didn’t have one, Longwood didn’t have one, and there weren’t any in people’s homes, in those days. They didn’t do that, but there—Oviedo had a swimming pool—a good, big, record[?]-sized pool, and then they had a baby pool next to it. Everybody came from Sanford and everything out there. My daddy ran the pool, and so, every day in the summertime, we’d go to the pool. Every day, after lunch, you’d go to the pool, and then, also, they had a dance floor and an old juke—juke organ, you know, and, uh, so that was a very popular place people went, in the summertime. You’d go all the time, and, uh, that was very important part of our life in those days. That and—actually, we didn’t do much else.
We rode our bikes a lot. That, we did. Uh, walked everywhere. We didn’t have a car. In fact, most—a lot of people didn’t, uh, and at—at school, there would be three—maybe—kids that drove a car to school, when they got in high school. The other cars belonged to the teachers, and these boys usually were from Slavia, and the reason they got to do that was—as soon as school was out they could go home and start workin’ out in the farms there, but, uh—and you walked everywhere. We walked all the way from my[?] house down to the pool, and the crazy part was, eh, we’d do it at night. I would be 15 years old, and I’d be walkin’ home with another friend, and she lived somewhere else, and she’s goin’ to her house and I’d wa—we’d walk all the way home in the dark at 10 o’clock at night. Nobody thought anything about it.
Today, you wouldn’t do that at all. I wouldn’t think of letting my kids to do that, but in those days, it was not a problem, ’n you didn’t lock your door at our house. If you—Mama did decide to lock the door. The windows that went from the porch into the hou—[laughs] to the living room—all you had to do was raise it up and go in. I mean, anybody could com—there was—no one broke into houses. There was not any of that. You hardly ever heard of anybody stealing anything. That didn’t happen, in those days. You just didn’t have like we have today. Uh, it is so different. Everybody took care of everybody else, uh, but as far as, uh, entertainment and all, we rode our bikes to Lake Charm. That was a big thing. Get on your bike and ride out from Oviedo to Lake Charm—you know where that is—and ride around the lake. That was what we did. My brother would catch fish, and he’d sell it to the people that he went by there homes on his way home, and he stopped and sell his fish stock[?]. Yeah [taps on table].
Schwandt
As I understand, you attended the First Baptist Church of Oviedo?
ReaganRight.
Schwandt
Uh, what’re some memories of services or events?
Reagan
Uh, they had, uh, uh—like when you were real little, they had what they called Sunbeam Band, When you were little. I remember going to that, Sittin’ in the little red chairs, and learnin’, uh, little songs that I’ve never forgot. I could sing them for you to this day, and they learned them in Sunbeam Band, and then, as you got older, they had a girls’ organizin—organization called GAs—Girls’ Auxiliaries somethin’—and—and that was extra that you—so it gave you something else to go to, and you learned all kinds of scripture verses, and you learned so much, and then you got promoted up to another level, and all of that, and the boys had something called RAs—Royal Ambassadors—and they did that, and, uh, you had, uh, the Christmas program, and, uh, that was always a big thing every year—the Christmas program in our Church, And, you went to Church, uh, every Sunday morning and at—Sunday night, and that was what all the teenagers did.
And then, uh, I’ll never forget this, uh—when—my mother would always say, “Come straight home from church.” This was where we lived, right—we lived next to the church almo—within a block of the church, and this was—I was a senior in high school, and, uh, this particular night, [inaudible] my friend—girlfriend lived right down the street from me, and these two boys ask us if we wanted to go for a ride, and, uh, I didn’t particularly want to go with this guy, but I knew she did, so I was going to help her out, and, um, we said, “Okay,” and I knew I was supposed to go home, but I didn’t. So we got in the car with them and we went from Oviedo out to Slavia. You know where that is? Turned down a little dirt road that’s now right where the, um, nursing home is out there. Now, there’s a dirt road that went down there, and got down there, and this guy’s gonna park, and I said, “Nope.” I said, “I want to go home.” So he was not happy. Meanwhile[?], this other couple’s in the back seat.
So he takes off and tears down the road, and we get to the hard road—the road that goes to Winter Park today, and he instead—he goin’ too fast, and he turns and rolls the car. Rolled it over two or three times. I went through the windshield, landed on the—on the railroad track. The railroad track went by there, and the car—I looked and I was alright. The car is upside down, the wheels are still goin’ around [laughs], the lights are on. We had a friend that lived right down the road from there. They heard it, and they came up, and, uh—but in the meantime, a car with a lady in it from Oviedo came drivin' by. She saw the accident, and anyway, it scared them, because they didn’t know where—I wasn’t in the car. They thought maybe I was under the car, but I wasn’t, but the—I di—I lost my shoe—one of my shoes. Couldn’t find it, but anyway, this lady knew me, knew my parents, and she said, “I’ll take you home,” and this was about 10 ‘o clock at night.
So I had to go home, and go in there and wake up my parents. They were already sleepin’—with one—the whole thing that was bothering me was the fact that I lost my shoe—couldn’t find it [laughs], ‘cause I didn’t have but one pair of loafers, you know, and I had to wear ‘em to school the next day. What am I gonna wear to school? Anyway, I had to tell her we—that had[?]—that happened, and I’ll never forget. It Totaled the car. Totaled it—messed it all up, and the—the guy who was driving—his—nobody got hurt really, luckily. I did have to go in a cou—I got dizzy in a couple days and I had to go over and get x-rayed, and I had a slight concussion, but that was never any more to that, and, uh—but anyway, I felt sorry for the boy that was driving the car, because his mother was pregnant, and they were—she had to have that car to go to the doctor in Sanford. So he was in big trouble. That was a memory I remember[?] [laughs] well. Anyway…
Schwandt
In a prior conversation, you mentioned the town’s doctor. Could you tell me any stories you have of him?
Reagan
The town doctor? Dr. Martin, yes. Dr. Martin was the town—and he did everything. He pulled teeth, and, you know, anybody got anything wrong with them. What you hardly ever—I—I don’t remember going to him, uh, eh, but just one time. um, my mother—I came—came in from somewhere, one time, and my daddy was washing dishes, and that was unheard of, ‘cause I had never seen him wash a dish in my life, or do anything in the kitchen, and he was washing dishes, and I said, “What is goin’ on?” I was a teenager, and, uh, he—my—my mother had been doin’ it, and there was a knife in the water and she had cut her hand real bad, and he had to take her over to Dr. Martin and get it sewed up, and I remember that, and then, another thing that happened, um—Dr. Martin and his wife, Miss—Mrs. Martin, were very active in our church. Mrs. Martin…
[clock chimes]
Reagan
Taught Sunday school and all that. They—the—this doctor’s office was right next to the church, a little bit behind it—right next to it, and they had a bell out there by the office—doctor’s. The office was right by the home, and if somebody came while the doctor was in church, they would ring the bell and he would hear it, get up and go out of church, and One Sunday that happened. Somebody had done something to their leg, was layin’ on the back of a truck, with no sides on it—just a wooden back—and he goes over to take care of it, and he took that guy’s leg off—the rest of it, while everybody—Of course, as soon as we could get out of church, we all went runnin’ over to see what’s goin on, and we’re all standin’ around watchin’ Dr. Martin take a—saw this guy’s leg off, while he’s layin’ on the back of the truck [laughs]. Yeah, he was a character. Yup.
Schwandt
And also, um, in an earlier conversation a—about school, you mentioned, uh, the disciplinary actions of certain teachers.
Reagan
Yes.
Schwandt
What are some experiences that stuck out to you?
Reagan
Uh, well, I’m not gonna tell you that story I told you last time, ‘cause I don’t want to get in trouble about that one, but, uh, uh, most of my teachers, uh—it—I’ve always said this, and I’ve probably—you probably know this. Everybody does. You always have certain teachers that are really good teachers and you’ll never forget ‘em. I mean, they—I have—I can remember certain teachers that were just good, and then there were some that, you wonder why they’re doing this, you know, uh, but um, I—we had this one teacher and [clears throat] she was hard to get along with, and she wa—she never had a smile on her face. She was just real sharp, and is always getting on everybody for every little thing, and she taught the fourth grade, and I was getting older by then, you know, ‘cause all the grades, one through 12, went to same school. You walked down the hall and—and this was something that I—I was bad sometimes at—I must have been seventh grade, ‘cause junior high is really the bad time [laughs]. I—if you look at my—I have every report card, and I can—you could pick out the ones I had when I was in seventh and eighth grade, uh, and anyway, she was just always mean to the kids, I thought, and so, she left her door open. She’d be in there talkin’ and you can walk down the hall and you’d hear her or see her in there.
So one day, when we were ki—talking out there on the—before you walk into the main building—on the porch, and, uh, so I said—there was a box—an old cardboard box out there, and I said, “I’ma walk down the hall. I’ma throw it in her room. See what happens.” So they bet me I wouldn’t do it, so I did it. I walked in, threw it in there, and ran on down the hall. She caught me, and she took me up to the office, and the principal there knew me, of course, and he knew that she—also that she was a little bit difficult to get along with, and all he did to me was—after she left, he said he’d take care of it, and, uh, he gave me a poem to learn. He says, “Now, just sit here and learn this poem, but don’t do that anymore,” [laughs] but we had some, uh—we had another teacher, who had been there for many years and taught my older si—you know, that was another thing. The teachers you got—they had already had your older sister, who was a brain.
You know, you’re supposed to know as much as she did, and, uh, they always compared you, as you went down the kids, but, uh, we had this teacher, and she could be—she was a good teacher, but she—she didn’t really—I don’t think she had children of her own. I don’t think she ever had children, but she would do things that, uh, would hurt people. Like we had this one girl that lived across the railroad track—her home was right over there—and she’d walk to school across the railroad track every day. Nicest person in the world, and one day she did something, and this—this teacher criticized her so badly in front of the whole class, and the girl did not deserve it. She didn’t do anything. Oh, she was a little bit late, I think, and I think she was late, because the train was across the track, and she got all over her or bein’ late to class and made the girl cry, and she did that to another girl in my class, and I just—it just really—I never, ever forgot it. Even though she was a good teacher, she—she would ridicule students sometimes, and, uh, I thought that—and—and it was embarrassing for that student, in front of the other kids, uh, and so you just remember certain people for certain things, but most of my teachers were good.
Reagan
Oh, and I gotta tell you one more school story. Right next to the school, lived—there was some houses, and one of these houses was Mr. McCulley’s[sp] house. Charlie McCulley was my—I went to school, first grade through 12. I wish I knew if he was still livin’ today. I would love to see him. uh, but anyway, they had chickens—chicken yard, and one night, uh, some of the high school boys got Mr. McCulley’s chickens—three or four—and brought them over, and—and for some reason, we were able to get in and out of the school. I don’t know what it was, but they knew how to open—pick the lock or something, then go in there, and so, they got these chickens and they had this teacher that was a retired military. His name was Mr. Bayton[sp], and Mr. Bayton was vague. He shouldn’t have been teaching history. I mean, he was like—he didn’t even know the subject, you know, and he didn’t—nobody cared for him, but he was just kinda dumb, and so they put these chickens in his room and shut the door and left them in there [laughs] all night. The next day, he came to school and had all those chickens in there, and another time, they took somebody’s old “Model T,” and put it in the hall—put it in the hall, and every Halloween, they put a metal trashcan on top of the flagpole, upside down. Nobody ever figured out how they did it, but they—that was—you knew it would be there the next mornin’ [laughs].
Another thing though, when I went to school, what we did every day—they—they had the [American] flag, it stayed in the office, and they had certain people that did this, and they would take the flag out, unfold it, put it on the flagpole, and put the flag up, and that was—and if it rained, you ran out there and took the flag down. You never let the flag stay up there in the rain. You never let it stay up overnight. That was the way it was always. The whole time I was at school, it was that way.
We always had what we called chapel every S—every Friday morning, everybody in the school went to the auditorium and there was a program. A lot of—once a month, you had a pastor of one of the churches came and talked, and it’d be a different one each time, and today, that could never happen. You always had the Pledge of Allegiance every morning before class, and you always said the Lord’s Prayer. You did those two the whole time I was in school. Now, things have changed.
Schwandt
I have read that, uh, Oviedo High did not become integrated until the 1960s. Growing up during segregation, do you recall any incidences where you recognized the separation of races?
Reagan
Oh, when I was growing up—I remember when integration started, ‘cause we were livin’ here, and I had kids in school, and I remember the first day, uh, that it—that the schools were integrated, and my kids were in high school, at that time, but back when—when I was growin’ up, it—everything was segregated. Blacks were—rode—if they got on the bus, they had to ride in, uh, like the—we had a bus that came from Orlando to Oviedo. It was called Orlando Transit, and if you got on the bus, all the black people had to sit in the back. They loaded back to front, but this was another thing. They did have buses that went—went out to get kids to go to my school, but blacks didn’t have a bus. They—they had to walk to school, and they lived past where I lived up on the hill that—what we called “The Negro Quarters.” they were called “The Quarters.” They lived—a lot of ‘em—there were different places, but there was a group down there. They walks by our house, and they had to walk all the way across town to the black school, and of course, there was—it was no—no integration at all, and, uh, it even, uh—it was just unheard of for, uh—for people to mix up, or—or even—they was[sic] just two separate entities, and, uh, it—gradually, it got better.
I remember like when my daughter, who, uh, just passed away this last summer—when she was a senior in high school, she was yearbook editor, just like I was yearbook editor when I was in school, and, uh—but, uh—and the two years before that, we had integration. it started when my oldest son[9] was still in sch—still in school, and, um, so there were some black[sic] on her, uh, editor—on her, uh, staff to do the yearbook, and when they got ready to have the ye—the party, there was a big discussion about whose house they could have it at, because that meant black people—kids were gonna come.
The same way with my daughter, uh—my younger daughter, Julie [Karin Reagan], who‘s a nurse, uh, now. Uh, when she was a cheerleader, uh, we had some black girls that were cheerleaders with her, and, uh, lot of people—it was hard for a lot of people to get used to that. They didn’t like it, and—but I remember I took ‘em, um, ‘cause the parents—the white girls’ parents worked too. I was a stay-at-home mom, and, uh, all the other parents of the cheerleaders worked, and so they never went to anything, and then every—the cheerleaders needed to go to cheerleading camp. I drove ‘em over there, picked ‘em up. I made their uniforms, and—and I took the black girls too, you know, and somebody would say, “Are[?]—are you gonna do that?” I’d say, “Yes,” and I can remember that, and then I remember when my oldest daughter—the one that was a yearbook editor—went to Miami, she trained at, uh, Jackson Borough School for Nursing, and she had to watch a[sic], uh, autopsy. They had this group[?]. they watched up looking down from this glass to watch it, and that was part of her nurses training, and it was a black girl they were an autopsy on, and she said, “You know, Mom, when you open up somebody, they’re the same on the inside as you are,” and she said, “A lot of people need to think about that,” and, you know—and that was just wha—what she figured out on her own, and I said, “That’s[?]—that’s right,” and right now, two or three doors down here, my best friend is a black girl who’s 50 years old, who was married to a white man, who just passed away, and she and I walk every—two days a week, and we have a ball. She is more fun than—anyway, uh, that is certainly not a problem today, but I remember when it was a very big problem.
I can remember when the guy who was the—the de—the she—the, uh, constable or the police chief of Oviedo—the only—only one policeman—I can remember how he mistreated black people that he put in jail. He hit ‘em. He had a billy stick and I remember hearing how he hit ‘em in the head with that, and, you know—I mean, they were mistreated. They were bad. It was bad. I can remember some bad things that happened. I’m certainly glad that part is over. Uh, hopefully, it’s over.
Schwandt
What year did you graduate at Oviedo High School, and what was the graduation ceremony like?
Reagan
Uh, I—1951. Nine people in my graduatin’ class. In those days, you always had a—a baccalaureate service. I don’t know if they still—don’t still do that, but they always had a, uh—a, uh—and they had it at the school. It was just like a graduation thing, but They had it like a—on a—two or three days before graduation, you had baccalaureate, and they would, like, preach a sermon, or they would do a—it would be a talk on how you—to live your life and all that sort of thing, but it was a different, and every year, they’d have a different pa—we had a Methodist and a Baptist and a Lutheran ch—church. Those were the three main churches, and they would take turns, uh, doin’ the baccalaureate service.
So you always had that first, and then you had graduation, and at the same time as grad—graduation night, you also—they gave out any awards that—now—now today, my kids—they have an award night for different things, but in the—they did all the awards the night of graduation, and, uh, I got—I’ll never forget this, because my older sister got a bunch. S when I came along, I did too, except…
[clock chimes]
Reagan
One. She got one that I didn’t get, and my mother said—as soon as she walked out of that thing, the first thing she said was, “How come you didn’t the”—I forgot what it was—“American Legion Award” or somethin’. I said, “That’s alright. I got best all-around athlete award. My sister didn’t that,” [laughs] but I got the history award and, uh—and the, uh, leadership award. I forgot what—it’s another name for it, but, uh, I’ll never forget that. She didn’t know how come I didn’t get that one, so—but that—we had award’s night the same night, as we did that [taps on table]. That was about it.
Schwandt
And where did your life take you after high school?
Reagan
Uh, not very far. My whole thing was to leave Oviedo. Both of my sisters had left and went to work at a bank in Orlando. uh, my older sister went first and she got—she worked at Florida State—it was called Florida State Bank in Downtown Orlando, right down the middle of town, and then when my sister graduated, my ol—other sister had talked to ‘em and got her in the[?]—she worked in the bookkeeping department. So they both went to Orlando to work in the bank.
Well, I didn’t want to work in the bank. What I wanted to do was to go to college, and I did not get to go, and Mr. [Thomas Willington] Lawton—T.W. Lawton—you’ve heard of the Lawtons? Uh, he was a cousin of ours, and, uh, he knew how much I wanted to go, and[?], uh, so I was supposed to go over to—with him, right? ‘Cause he—he drove to Sanford every, uh, day to work at the—down at the courthouse—was where his office was, and, uh, they were gonna have a test for scholarships. You could take these tests to try to get a scholarship to go to co—FSU.[10] In those days it was a women’s college,[11] and, uh, so I was all set to go. My principal had fixed it for me to go, ‘cause—‘cause I was valedictorian, and—and I was kinda’ smart, and I[?] thought I could pass—get maybe—maybe get a scholarship, and I was gonna go, and Mr. Lawton—and I was—and I already made arrangements with him. I didn’t tell my mother anything about it, ‘cause she had said, “We can’t afford to send you to college,” you know, “We don’t have the money,” uh, and—but so I thought, If I can get a scholarship, you know I can do this, and, uh, so doggonnit, if, uh, Mr.—somebody from sch—one of the teachers called and my mother answered the phone, and she said, “Well, tell Bettye when she goes tomorrow to take the scholarship test” —she didn’t know I was goin’. I didn’t tell her, and, uh—but Mr. Lawton knew, ‘cause I had already contacted him. He was goin’ take me, and so she says, “What is this all about?” And I told her. She said, “We can’t do that.” So she called Mr. Lawton and told him not to come—not to pick me up, ‘cause I couldn’t—even if I got it, it was just—they couldn’t afford all the stuff they still have to do for me to go, and he called back, and he said, “Listen. I will help her go. I will help her financially [inaudible],” but my mother would never take any money from anybody.
So that, I did not get to do, but—so then, I get on the bus, after I get out of school and I [inaudible]—my senior year, I worked for—Mr. Teague, who was the principal, I worked in the office half a day every day, ‘cause I had all the subjects they had. I took [inaudible] instead of st—study hall, I took a subject. So there wasn’t[sic] any subjects left for me to take. So he asked me to be the school secretary, work in the office half—half a day, and I did that all that senior year, and tough—and then after I graduate, I’m—I’m goin’ to Orlando riding the bus, trying to walk around, find a job, which I hadn’t found. I come home one day, and my mother says, “Well, you got a job. I got you a job. Mr. Teague called and wanted to know if you wanted a full-time job being a school secretary.” Oh, jeeze. I wanted to leave. I wanted to get out of Oviedo, and go do somethin’ different.
Reagan
So I was home for a year, and then I got married and moved to Sanford, and then, uh, I was married for three years. I had—we built a house. City of Sanford would give you a lot—give you a lot, but you had to build a house within a year. We built the house. We cleared the lot. I can show you that house today. We built the house—I mean, laid the blocks, poured the floor, did the whole thing in one year. He[12] worked for the railroad and we did this when he wasn’t working. We built the house. We laid blocks—all that stuff—and we were able to move in within a year. it wasn’t finished, but we moved in, and, uh, anyway, he was, uh—I had two kids, and when I had a year-old baby[13] and a three-year-old son, [14] and he was killed, uh, in a train accident, working—he was a railroader—train accident, uh, and then, I met my husband[15]—I have today, uh—eight months later, which everybody thought was too soon [laughs], at church, and, uh, we’ve been married—we—we just celebrated, uh, Monday, our 58th wedding anniversary. So [taps on table] it worked [laughs], and we had four more kids.[16] That’s six.
Schwandt
After your first husband died, for those eight months, before you met your—how did you survive?
Reagan
Uh, well, uh, Social Security [Insurance], uh, and he had some insurance and, uh—the other thing though we had done—we had bought—borrowed money and bought, uh, I think it was 4,000 dollars—bought 80 acres—now, 80 acres in Osteen, uh, found a road that if you took it—took you all the way to Oak Hill. It was a back road. It goes through there. We bought 80 acres, and we got these cows from the dairy, and we were—we were raising cows out there. We were doin’ that too. So when he died, I had that 80 acres and about seven or eight cow, uh—calves. I had to go feed ‘em on a nipple bucket, and I was goin’ out there every day doing—in fact, that’s where I was when they came out and found me to tell me what had happened, and, uh, so anyway, uh, I had that when I married Don—he was in, uh, TV business—and, uh, so we—he went out there and got some more cows and played cowboy [laughs], and we had that, and we were eventually able to sell it for [$]16,000, which when—in those—that was a long time ago, back in the—we’re talkin’ about the [19]60s, and, uh—and we bought another five—bought 10 acres out here near the airport, and put our cows out there and we had that.
Then we had a chance to buy this place, and, uh—we lived in town, and he had a really nice, big house. I mov—sold my house out there and moved into his house, and, uh—but we had a pool we added on to the house by the time we had a bunch of kids. We had to keep addin’ onto the house, and we had a pool, which was—new at those time[sic]. Not too many people had ‘em. So every day, I had not just my kids. I had everybody’s in the neighborhood’s kids at my house, and it got to be a zoo. I said, “We gotta move.” So he was out here fixin’ these people’s tel—television set, and he saw this place. He said—and they wanted—there was an old couple—they wanted to move into town. Well, we owned another house across the street that was a rental, and, uh, so they—we almost swapped ‘em, and Of course, we had to work on this one for a year to make it so we could—this—this, uh—this was outside the house. This wall was the outside, and that brick in that fireplace—there was a—fireplace right here. We chipped all the brick out of that. that’s the same brick that were[sic] in the fireplace, and we added this room, and we added another bathroom and put—what was a porch, we made that into bigger bedrooms, and we moved out here with six kids, and, uh, it’s been a great, great place to live, and then we got a lot o—I’ll show you my studio, before you go. It’s outside.
Schwandt
And how did you meet your—how did you meet Don, your second husband?
Reagan
My husband now? At, uh—it was a put-up job [laughs]. It really was. Um, he—he came here in the Navy, and, uh, he was—he got married and he was married. He was divorced, when I met him, um, and he was at the church. Anyway, One day, after my husband had passed away, I called. I had the two little kids, and I was still—I was going to church down there, but—and I had gone to church all my life, but I was so, you know—I was totally—I was just kinda’ down, and I called the—the church, and they said—the assistant pastor came out, and I told him—I said, “I’m goin’ to church, but I’m not gettin’ anything out of it.” I said, “I’m just not”—I was miserable, and he said, “You know what? You need to be—you don’t need to be sittin’ in a class, uh, with you kids anymore[?]. You need to be teaching class,” So he said, “We have seven year olds. We need a teacher for seven year olds. Would you”—and so I said, “Okay.” So I go—first Sunday, I go in this—we had 30-somethin’ seven year olds and there were four or five teachers. He was a teacher, and I was a teacher of Sunday school of seven year olds. They put us both in the same room with a little thing in between, and it didn’t take very long, and, uh, so we got—that’s where I met him—was there. We been together ever since [taps on table].
Schwandt
What are some fond memories you have raising your children?
Reagan
Oh [taps on table], great memories, and the good part about it was we had a movie camera. Took movies of everything we did—every Christmas, every Thanksgiving, every birthday, all events. Oh, you should see our kids, going to Lake Eola, lined up where the flowers are, where all the little kids with—all the little girls had white gloves on, hats, frilly dresses. Boys had on ties and coats and—and, uh—gettin’ out of the car, going to church, [inaudible] watchin’ ‘em tryin’ to get in and out of the cars and all that, and, uh—and then going on vacations, camping. That was the only way you could go—take that many kids on vacation is to go camping, and that’s what we did. We went camping. We started up[?] in Florida, ended up in the mountains, and they still go camping to this day, but, uh—and then, I—I enjoyed my kids.
Uh, I never missed a—any program that they were in, and, uh, of course when you got that many, they’re in different things, you know, uh, and that—and this one daughter—she tickled me, because if I was gonna have to go to school for, uh—drive a car for, uh, you know—take the kids somewhere—trip, or something—she would tell me—pick out what she wanted me to wear. She wanted you to look good, you know? [laughs] She would come in there and say, “Mom, this is what I want you to wear,” but, um, I really—and I never missed a PTA[17] meeting, and I remember going, and I have two or three kids in one school, and you went to each one of ‘em’s class, and I’m trying to go to all of ‘em’s class, and change classes and do this, but I always did—kept up with what was going on, and, uh—and they all did good in school—pretty good in school, and never really had any major problems with ‘em. Uh, all did school, all—all graduated good[sic], and, uh, have great memories, and then I have all these—and used to be the movies were on film, and then—‘till now. You know, now, it’s entirely different, but my daughter that—the one that you went to her house—she took those, and I dunno how long it took her, she’s finally—still got something to do, and put ‘em all on DVDs, and, uh—and we have ‘em all today. A lot of nice ones. We don’t have anything on TV we want to watch, we sit and watch the kids all growin’, when they were little all the way up. So that—we have those, and I—I tell ‘em today—I said, “Y’all have all these things on camera”
[phone rings]
Reagan
“Now you need to be makin’ sure you—you have these things. Don’t just let it get taken off of there, ‘cause we have a record of everything. Y’all aren’t going to have that.” I’m just gonna let that go.
[answering machine]
Schwandt
I understand that your great-grandfather Andrew Aulin[, Sr.] founded Oviedo.
Reagan
Right.
Schwandt
What are some stories about him or other founding families, like the Lawtons or Wheelers that you…
Reagan
Uh…
Schwandt
Remember being told?
Reagan
Well, he passed away before I was—was born, and, uh, the, uh—the way that, uh—he came down here—a lot of those people who were Swe—he was Swedish—came over here from Sweden, and he didn’t come the way so many people in this area did. The Sanford area is all—a lot of Swedes over here, and they came over, uh, to work the citrus groves, and the—and the people who owned the groves here would pay their way on the ship, if they’d come and work a year. That’s how a lot of them came, but he didn’t come that way. He came up at, um—on the East Coast in New York or somewhere like that, and he came down through Georgia, and then eventually, into down here, and, um, he, uh, uh—at first, Oviedo—the settlement was out on, uh, Lake Jessup, and they called it White’s Warf—was the name of it—little settlement, and then they sor—sort of moved into O—into what is Oviedo today, and, uh, he was one of ‘em that moved in there, and he became—he was the first postmaster, and they had to come up with a name, and, uh, he was—when they named it, and he was also a schoolteacher…
[clock chimes]
Reagan
And he spoke ‘bout four or five languages. He was very smart, and the reason he named it O—it should be pronounced Oh-vee-ay-do—was he traveled, uh, before he came over here, and then he even went back over to Europe several times, and he had been to Oviedo, Spain, and he thought since Florida was a Spanish word, he thought we’d name it Oviedo, and he called it Oh-vee-ay-do, and at, uh, one time, it—it was—it was in Orange County. You know, that used to be all Orange County all this part of it, plus this was too, and—and it was, uh, uh…
[train whistles]
Reagan
So then, he—and he opened a store. He had a store there also, and they—and I heard a, uh—different things people have written about him and said that they’d go in their store, and he’d be so intent on reading something. he was very intellectual, and he liked to read all the time—that they’d have to ma—make him quit reading to wait on him, ‘cause he was into that, and [inaudible] when he passed away, he didn’t have a lot of money, but what he had, he game to Rollins College. It was just starting, and he was one of the people that gave what he had to Rollins College, because he wanted to see that college be there. So he was—I wish I had known him. He was—I was—he gone before I came along, and his wife[18] was a Lawton.
So that’s how we got involved with that, and, uh, then, it’s—it’s crazy, because when we started going through different history things, I found out that [inaudible] the Lees in Oviedo, which are—that’s all involved—the Lawtons, Lees, and the Wheelers—all [Lee] sisters all married those people. They were sisters and one married a Lawton,[19] one married a Lee[sic], and a Wheeler,[20] and all that, and, uh, so when—my—on my mother’s side, who came from Sanford, there were some Lees. Her sisters married the Lees, and—and I al—al—I asked a couple times—I said, “Ya’ll kin to the[?] Lees in Oviedo?” Said, “No, no.” Well, they are, uh—they got this book on the Jacobs family and I started reading it, and the Jacobs family, involved with both Lees there, Lee’s here. So way back, if you wanted to go by marriage things, my mother was actually—her people were ancestors with my father’s people, way back and by marriage, and I thought—I just found that out not too long ago, and I bet that they—I’ll tell ‘em. They don’t know it [laughs], but that was, uh—and, uh, another thing—when—when my husband—my first husband—he was Catholic, and, uh, when we—when he went and talked to my daddy about us getting married, and he said, “Well, there’s one thing I want you to do. I don’t care which church you go to, but both of you go to the same one,” because—and Oviedo’s known for that. The Lawtons and the Wheelers and the Lees—the Whe—Frank Wheeler—big in the Baptist church—his wife was big in the Methodist church. Same things with the Lawtons. One went—husband went to one church and the wife we—and my daddy said, “I don’t want to see any more of that.” You—but that was—was one of the things that they did out there too, but they were all related. Yup.
Schwandt
Do you have any family heirlooms that were passed down that you held on to?
Reagan
Uh, no, uh, I don’t. I have some pictures, but I don’t have any—anything else that—I wish I did, and that is why I[sic] makin’ a point to save everything that I have [laughs], and—Like that bell that’s—there’s a big bell hanging outside. That’s my husband’s family. His father had that bell on the farm in Mississippi, and we were able to get that, and he re—redid it and painted it and all and put it up there, but—but that’s one of the few things we have from his family, and, um, we—so our kids are—that’s the one thing—you don’t get rid of that. that stays in the family, you know, and it’s very, very—it’s made in 1800-somethin’ is what—the date is in it, but, um, no, uh, I don’t think there’s—there’s much left, uh, physical things, you know, um, just some pictures, which I try to keep up with, and I have pictures of my father and his father together, and, uh, things like that, but, uh, no, uh, I don’t—can’t think of any—any artifacts, really, that I have.
Schwandt
Is there anything you like—you’d like to cover that we haven’t addressed?
Reagan
No, uh, well, one thing I want to say about Oviedo today, is, uh—it must be a great place to live, because here a few years ago—well, quite a few years ago, when I was starting, uh—doing a lot of painting, and, uh, I—I did a whole thing—a lot of pic—paintings, uh, about Oviedo, and, uh, I went out there and just drove around, went down to where the pool used to be, which they covered it up. it’s not there anymore, but there’s a park down there—children’s park and things, and, uh—and I went down there to—just to take some pictures and look around, and there was[sic] some women down there playing with their kids, and, uh, I—I told them— I said, “Do you mind if I take some pictures?” ‘Cause I didn’t know what I was going to do, but I was going to do some series of paintings on Oviedo, and they said, “Yes.” it was okay, and—and I said, “Would you mind telling me”—‘cause they—they weren’t from there, and I said, “Why did you move here?” And they said, “Well, we researched before we moved”—they came from out of state—”And this just was the best place to move to raise your kids.” They checked it out. They said, “This is a very family-oriented town. They have a lot of things for kids, and it’s—it’s, you know—it’s just a very—it’s the ideal place to raise a family.” I thought, Well, that’s great. So then, I go to another place in Oviedo, another place like that. There’s some more families there. I asked the same question, got the same answer. I said, “Now, isn’t that amazing?” That—that’s sayin’ a lot for Oviedo. It is, and another thing—the Townhouse Restaurant—are you familiar with that? Which they’re fixin’ to move, you know?
Schwandt
Yeah.
Reagan
But, uh, we go out there every now and then just to eat there, but, uh, I remember when it wasn’t the Townhouse, and up above it, there used to be a doctor’s office above that place, but, uh, that corner there—the—the red light—the whole time I was re—growin’ up, that was the red light. the only one in town for many, many years, and I kinda hate to see ‘em do what they’re gonna do there, but that’s progress, and, uh—but, uh, I have very fond memories of Oviedo, but, you know, when you’re growing up, you always think somethin’s gonna be better somewhere else, but, uh, my daughter lives out there, and right down the road, you know, comin’ from—back to Oviedo from her house, there’s a new subdivision that’s called Aulin[‘s] Landing or something they’re building. That’s got the Aulin name in it. There’s just—new. They just started building it. So that’s something too, and of course, they got Aulin Avenue, you know, out there by the cemetery. So yeah, it’s a—good memories from Oviedo, and I need to get back out there, ‘cause I have—still have people out there that I know. Um, how are you—how—how much more are y’all doing? Do you have more people you’re going to interview? ‘Cause I know somebody would be good to interview [laughs].
Schwandt
Oh, I’m sure other classes…
Reagan
Yeah.
Schwandt
Like I said, you know, which—which—every new semester, because we’re just…
Reagan
Uh huh.
Schwandt
To get as much…
Reagan
Right.
Schwandt
Of Central Florida’s history as possible. So…
Reagan
Mmhmm.
Schwandt
If you wanna…
Reagan
Uh, the Wards, uh—there’s a, uh—Bob Ward. Uh, his brothers passed away, but Bob Ward—Bob and Joanne Ward. I would recommend, uh, talking to—to them. Uh, they live out there close to where I lived, right across the street from the Wheeler House. The—we used to call Mrs. Wheeler—Mrs. B. F. —Frank Wheeler “The Queen,” and, uh—and she was like a queen, you know? She didn’t speak to you. You speak to—I’ll never forget. One time, since I’ve been—when—after I moved to—to, uh, Sanford, we had a drug store downtown called Tusta’s[?] Drugstore. In those days, it had a soda fountain. just like Oviedo had a soda fountain. Had a soda fountain in it, and I was down there one day, sittin’ in a booth, and, uh, Ms. Wheeler came by, and I recognized her and she recognized me, you know, and she walk right on by and didn’t speak, and goes on down and doggone, if every booth wasn’t full, of course, and so she comes back and then all of the sudden, she remembered who I was, ‘cause she needed a place to sit [laughs]. I thought that was—that was—that was pretty good. That was the way it was. They were a little bit—little bit that way—a little bit that way. Uh…
Schwandt
Well, thank you so much for your time.
Reagan
Mmhmm, you’re welcome. I enjoyed it.
[1] Andrew “Andy” Aulin III.
[2] Andrew Aulin, Jr.
[3] Mary Alice Powell Aulin.
[4] Roy Rogers (born Leonard Franklin Slye) in The Roy Rogers Show.
[5] Wheeler Fertilizer Company.
[6] Mary Leonora Aulin Bartlett.
[7] Charles Warren Aulin.
[8] Physical Education.
[9] Daniel Lee Reagan, formerly Daniel Lee McGill.
[10] Florida State University
[11] Florida Female College, later Florida State College for Women.
[12] Joel Edwin McGill.
[13] Kathleen Ann McGill, now Kathleen Ann Reagan.
[14] Daniel Lee McGill, now Daniel Lee Reagan.
[15] Donald Thomas Reagan.
[16] Debbie Lynn Reagan, Julie Karin Reagan, Andrew Schott Reagan, and Patrick Kelley Reagan.
[17] Parent-Teacher Association.
[18] Emma “Lona” Leonora Lawton Aulin.
[19] Charlotte "Lottie" Lee Lawton married Thomas Willington Lawton and Lillian Della Lee Lawton married Winborn Joseph Lawton, Sr.
[20] George Lee Wheeler married Benjamin Franklin Wheeler.
Schneider
Alright, so we’re here with, um, Ms. Nadine [Davis] Aulin, conducting an oral history interview. Um, the interview is conducted by myself, Sarah Schneider, at the Alafaya [Library] Branch of the Orange County Library System, um, in Orlando, Florida. It’s Friday, March 13th, twe—2015, and, um, the interview will cover topics about Oviedo’s history and the Aulin family’s history, and, um, this is being done for the UCF [University of Central Florida] Public History introduction class, um, for their project on Oviedo’s history. So welcome. Thank you for talking with us today.
Aulin
Well, I’m glad to be here.
Schneider
[laughs].
Aulin
[laughs].
Schneider
Um, and so could you start off just introducing yourself, um, to the camera. So tell yourself a little—tell us a little bit about yourself, um, where you grew up, and how long you’ve been in Oviedo.
Aulin
Okay, I, um, was born and raised in Orlando. Um, remember Orlando from when it was, uh, 75,000 until now. uh, I married my husband[1] in 1965, and prior to that, I had been to Oviedo many times. my grandparents lived in Chuluota, uh, but I wasn’t, you know, didn’t really know people from Oviedo, but, uh, my husband, uh, went to Vietnam in 1965 through ’66, and during that time, uh, I lived with his aunt, who was, uh, Nettie [Dorcas] Jacobs Aulin. She was married to, uh, Theodore Aulin, who everybody called “The Judge,”, because he was Justice of the Peace.
Schneider
Ah.
Aulin
And, uh, in addition to that, my mother-in-law,[2] at that time, was living and she lived in Oviedo, and we had a close relationship.
Schneider
Uh huh, great, um, and so what was life like in or—in Oviedo when you moved here—in the area?
Aulin
Well, it was sorta cool. Um, the big events happened through the [First] Methodist Church [of Oviedo] or the [First] Baptist Church [of Oviedo]. uh, anything that was going on it was either through that or the—or the [Seminole County Public] Schools. Um, people—it was a big deal to go into Orlando out to eat. You know, you didn’t just do that willy-nilly. You, eh—it was an occasion.
Um, what I loved about that time is, uh, Oviedo had one police officer, and that was, um, George Kelsey, and his family had been here I think as long as the Aulins, uh, and he, uh, took care of the town. He, uh, would sleep, I think, in the early morning and then be around 18 hours a day doing his job, and he did it well. I don’t think we had too much crime. Uh, one of the things is, uh—Aunt Nettie—when I was living with her, we had an armadillo that bothered us, and she called Mr. Kelly[sic]—Mr. Kelsey to, uh, come get rid of that armadillo, and he says, “Well, Aunt Nettie, I’ll—I’ll be there as soon as I can. I just got in bed,” and she said, “Well, he’s out in our yard now, you need to come by now.” [laughs].
Schneider
[laughs].
Aulin
So he did. He came, and, uh, he says, “Okay. Well, I’m here. Where’s the armadillo?” And we—of course, the armadillo was gone by the time he got there, and she says, “Well, just hang around. you can shoot it,” and he says, “I don’t think I’m gonna be shooting armadillos, Aunt Nettie,” and—because, you know, everybody called everybody “Aunt” or “Ms.” or—you know, it wasn’t just first names, and she was, uh—one of his best friend’s son, er—her son was one of his best friends, and so, of course, he wanted to accommodate her, but he didn’t [laughs]—he wanted to be shooting armadillos in Downtown Oviedo. We lived right across from the Baptist church.
Schneider
Uh huh.
Aulin
So that wouldn’t have gone over very well, but that’s just sorta how Oviedo was back in those days—is that everybody knew everybody, and, uh, like the mayor of the time was, uh—oh, gosh, what was his name?[3] He was so nice. Um, it’ll come to me, but anyway, he used to go to the post office every morning and bring me my mail. You know, you’re not supposed to let somebody have somebody else’s mail, but he would bring me my mail, because my husband, being in Vietnam, he would write to me every day, and so this mayor would, uh—gosh, why can’t I think of his name? Um, he would bring me my mail, and, uh, it was just sorta, you know—sorta like, uh, small town, uh, neighborly kinda things that went on, back in those days.
Schneider
Great, great, and did you mention, um—what year did you come to Oviedo?
Aulin
I was, uh…
Schneider
I’m not…
Aulin
We got married in ‘65, and he soon left to go to Vietnam right after that. So, yeah, ’65.
Schneider
Uh huh.
Aulin
And I was working at the Townhouse Restaurant, and it was like a year old
Schneider
Oh.
Aulin
When I started to work there.
Schneider
Wow, uh, huh.
Aulin
And so it’s been an institution…
Schneider
Uh huh.
Aulin
For many years now.
Schneider
Yeah, Um, and what kinds of people—what kinds of jobs did people have in town around that time?
Aulin
Well, most everybody worked at either the packin’ house or in the groves, and you know, of course, there was the insurance companies, and there was real estate, uh, people back, at that time. Oviedo was beginning to build up, because the [Florida Technological] University[4] was in the works…
Schneider
Oh.
Aulin
And people were moving out this way and buying houses, and, um—but farming and, um, the citrus was[sic] the main jobs, uh, I think, uh, at the time. At some point in time, I went to work for Citizens Bank [of Oviedo],[5] and at that time, it was like the, uh, only—the—the next largest business that wasn’t, uh, uh, the packin’ house…
Schneider
Uh huh.
Aulin
You know, and, uh, I think it was the only building, at that time, that had an elevator, and it may still be.
Schneider
Huh.
Aulin
I don’t know. I can’t—I don’t know if there’s any buildings in the actual town that has an elevator, besides that. Maybe they do. I don’t know, but that was sort of a big deal that they had an elevator...
Schneider
Uh huh.
Aulin
To [inaudible], uh, but yeah. There was one—I—I I’m trying to think if there was any other major jobs. Uh, there was your, uh—you know, you had school teachers and that kind of thing, but mostly it was farming.
Schneider
Uh huh.
Aulin
Something to do with farming.
Schneider
Uh huh, and you mentioned people going to Orlando. that was a special treat. What other kinds of things did people do for fun in town?
Aulin
Oh, back then they, uh—ball games. They were really into, um, the different ball games, so like baseball, football. The Oviedo, um—had just—the [Oviedo] High School had just started over, at, uh, Career Field, and, uh, they had their first football game—a team for the school’s in 1964—maybe ‘63—but it was a very good team. By 1965, they had, uh, uh—were winning a lot of games, and people really supported them, and, eh, little league and—and all that. people were really into that. I remember [laughs] when we came home from, uh, our honeymoon, the—after we took our luggage to his mother’s house—we went to, uh, a baseball game.
Schneider
Oh.
Aulin
You know, who does that?
Schneider
[laughs].
Aulin
[laughs] But, eh, you know, it was the community thing, I think, uh, maybe because the community was so small, but people were active. If, um, you—even if you didn’t have children playin’ ball, you still wanted to go to support them and be there, and, uh, it was just, like I said, small town U.S.A.
Schneider
Uh huh, great. Um, and so what is Oviedo-life like today? What…
Aulin
Well [laughs]...
Schneider
[laughs].
Aulin
I—I think that, um—I, uh, think that it’s still very neighborly, but more secular. Uh…
Schneider
Uh huh.
Aulin
I think there’s, uh—you know, people who live out on this side of town sort of do their kind of thing with their kids and their schools, and on the other side of town, the same thing, you know? I think that, uh, it—I—I think Oviedo still sort of has a reputation of being friendly and has that small town atmosphere kind of thing. Um, I don’t know if you’ve looked on the website. There’s an Oviedo community web—website, and people…
Schneider
Oh, okay.
Aulin
Go in with their gripes and—or their happy things, or…
Schneider
Uh huh.
Aulin
You know, whatever. So it’s still, uh—technology’s sorta caught up with us, and...
Schneider
Uh huh.
Aulin
But I don’t think in a negative way. I think that’s sort of a good thing.
Schneider
Uh huh.
Aulin
So…
Schneider
Great, um, and has—is there anything else that has changed in Oviedo since you’ve lived here that you—that you’ve noticed?
Aulin
Oh, I’m sure they’re lots of changes that I, you know—of course, they’re building new buildings and tearing down old buildings. Um, citrus has not gained or even [inaudible].
Schneider
[laughs].
Aulin
[laughs] and citrus is leaving us, and so is, uh, when—when we were first—when I first came here to Oviedo, um, out in Black Hammock, there was celery growing and cabbage and onions, and there was always something growing out there, and Now, there’s really nothing. There’s palm trees, but with the building industry not being too hot, they’re just growing and growing. They’re not being sold, uh, and I don’t even see much sod being sold. Um, uh, we, uh—all that has changed. It’s just not agriculture any more, and, uh, you know, then, uh, it’s modern times. I think people are, um, you know, since we’ve started here, there’s been integration, and so, that’s a big difference in Oviedo. um, people working together of different races and things like that, and I think it’s going pretty well.
Schneider
Mmhmm.
Aulin
Um, so…
Schneider
Okay, great. Um, so do you have any other stories—memorable stories about your time living in Oviedo, um, while you’ve been living there?
Aulin
Well [laughs]…
Schneider
[laughs].
Aulin
There’s been like the—I think it was, uh, one of the packing houses out on, uh, [Florida State Road] 46 caught on fire. This was in the early maybe 70s—maybe late 60s…
Schneider
Hm.
Aulin
And, uh, that was a huge deal. I mean, everybody, uh, was going out to see that fire….
Schneider
Oh.
Aulin
Uh, but, uh—and of course, there’s been, u, funny things that’s happened, and I—right now, I can’t think of any[laughs], but, uh—you know, personal things—but, uh, eh, Just the change and the times, and the university, like I said, started it all. Uh, people started moving out here and then, because there was now new bedroom communities. Uh, then other businesses, that catered to that, have moved out here. I mean, we’ve got so many food, you know, restaurants and places to get food, and, uh, we don’t—and, you know, we’ve got a [Oviedo] Mall. Who would’ve ever though Oviedo would have a mall, and all these different places? Uh, It’s, uh, a very—like if—if you think back—1965 and today—it’s like two different worlds…
Schneider
Hm.
Aulin
Until you get down to the nitty gritty of it and start talking to people that actually live here. They still—still, I think, sorta have the same mindset.
Schneider
Hm.
Aulin
Maybe I’m wrong, but that’s what I think.
Schneider
Huh. Um, alright. So what family stories have you heard, uh, about Oviedo’s early history? So before you lived here.
Aulin
Well, my, um, mother-in-law, who I, uh, learned so much from, she, uh, came here when she was I think 17—maybe 18 years old—from Lake Monroe, Florida, which is right outside of, uh, Sanford. Uh, she came out here because there was a lady that was running the hotel in Oviedo, that was right where the main red light is, um, in Oviedo. It was sort of east, uh, or south of that, and, uh, since then, of course, it’s burned down, and—but, uh, she came out to actually take care of the lady’s children while the lady ran the hotel. The [?] t turned into—she became like the telephone operator there, and, uh, I think she is noted as the first telephone operator in, uh, Oviedo, because, you know, that was a big deal back then too, and she, uh—that’s where she met her husband.[6] Uh, he worked across the way at the packing house with his, you know—his—the people who owned the packing house were relatives of his. Not that—I—I don’t think it was nepotism that he had a job there. It’s just there were not many other places to work, but, um, she met him there, and she learned how to pack fruit just by sittin’ around. I guess that was their courting days, you know?
Schneider
Hm.
Aulin
“Here, let me show you how [laughs] to pack fruit.”
Schneider
[laughs].
Aulin
But, uh—and she used to tell me, um, or she told me once that, uh, she—when they courted, uh, her husband’s, uh, cousin, would loan him his car, and it was a roadster, and I never quite got the concept of what a roadster is, but I do know that, uh, one of the cars that they rode around in had the rumble seat in the back
Schneider
Ah.
Aulin
And when they would double date, she and her husband always had to be in the rumble seat, but when it was just the two of them, they would—a big date would be him taking her to Lake Monroe to visit her parents [laughs].
Schneider
[laughs] Oh.
Aulin
So—but anyway, they, uh—they—she used to tell me stories about how they dressed, and, you know, her husband, um, was sort of dashing. I think he wore this straw, Panama hat or somethin’, and, uh, she was a great seamstress, so she made all her clothes, and she was seamstress for Oviedo. She, uh, made so many wedding dresses for people, and, uh, I think she sewed for about—oh, gosh. I want to say about 40 years…
Schneider
Oh.
Aulin
And she was really great. Uh, she would make you clothes that—as a matter of fact, there was one person in Oviedo that used to take her to, uh, Winter Park, and they would sketch out the dresses in the windows…
Schneider
Oh.
Aulin
And then she would come back and make them for this person, and, you know, for hardly any money at all, and in Winter Park, it would cost like, 20 times whatever she charged…
Schneider
Uh huh.
Aulin
Because they were very nice dresses, but, uh—and she did that up until she was in her ‘60s.
Schneider
Uh huh.
Aulin
And, uh, everybody loved to have her make them a dress, and she always was—loved to do it, because it was like her calling. It was her art. It was her thing, and, uh, she really enjoyed that very, very much, and, uh, of course, it was the different people that would come there. She had these, um—what do they call them? Dress models?
Schneider
Uh…
Aulin
Uh, and she had one that was—one lady that was sort of heavy, and that’s what she called it—by this lady’s name, and, um, I’m not saying their names, ‘cause their families all—still are here.
Schneider
Uh huh.
Aulin
And then there’s another one that the lady was quite tall, and she called it that, and then finally she got this little short, fat, one and she called it Nadine [laughs].
Schneider
[laughs].
Aulin
And she used to make me my clothes, even when we were stationed in Germany or wherever. She’d send me, uh, my clothes, and they would be perfect every time. So, um, she was very, very talented at that, and I, uh, think that, uh—like I said, I think that it was her art, and she enjoyed doing it, and I think a lot of people, uh, of that era enjoyed working. I don’t think you see that so much anymore.
Schneider
Yeah.
Aulin
And I think people, uh, of my father’s age and, uh, Andy’s parents, they just sorta took their job very, very seriously, and it was their thing. It was, you know—they had pride in what they were doing. It wasn’t just—and of course, they had to earn money, and they didn’t earn that much for whatever they were doing, but still it was their—their art. It was their art.
Schneider
Mmhmm.
Aulin
So there’s, um—some of the funny stories would be, uh, Andy’s uncle, eh, Theodore, who they all called Fifi, um, he didn’t [laughs] believe in change. So like, if they put in a traffic light or a stop sign where they never had had one before, he never paid—after he got old, he never paid any attention for—to it.
Schneider
Mmhmm.
Aulin
And, uh, he was just—and George, the policeman, would just say, “Well, that’s Uncle Fifi. We just have to watch out for him.” [laughs].
Schneider
[laughs].
Aulin
And there was other people like that. there were what you call “characters” around the town, and—and that’s what people did—is they just sorta said, uh, “Well, that’s who they are,” and, you know, you just have to watch out for them, and I think that’s where the lovely—lovely thing about Oviedo and small towns everywhere, I’m sure.
Schneider
Uh huh.
Aulin
And so, uh, don’t know what else…
Schneider
Yeah, that’s great, um, and you mentioned the—being a telephone or switchboard operator. Um, so what were the name—what was her name? [inaudible]…
Aulin
Her name was Alice.
Schneider
Alice?
Aulin
Mary Alice Aulin.
Schneider
Okay.
Aulin
Um, yeah. Uh, she did that, and, uh, as a matter of fact, when they did the centennial here, I, uh—they recognized her for that, and, um, it was very nice, um, and that was a nice thing too. I don’t know if you, uh—I’m sure you got information about that, but that centennial thing was really a nice thing that Oviedo did. Uh, brought everybody together, and then people that were new got to know more about what was going on. uh…
Schneider
Uh huh.
Aulin
There was, like, memorial celery vase.
Schneider
Oh.
Aulin
Have you heard that or seen that? Uh…
Schneider
I haven’t seen it. no.
Aulin
Well, uh, most of us have one that were around at that time, uh…
Schneider
Huh.
Aulin
And that’s when, um, Mr. Neely’s book[7] came out.
Schneider
Oh, okay.
Aulin
Uh, or Miss [Donna] Neely’s. I guess it was Ms. Neely’s. Uh, Dr., uh—what was his name?[8] Doesn’t matter.
Schneider
[laughs].
Aulin
That’s okay. Uh, [inaudible] another one of those things that will come to you, but, um, that all sorta gelled at the same time for the centennial, and It was a big celebration, and, um, it was very, very, very nice.
Schneider
Mmhmm, nice. Yeah, um, and have you heard any family stories about Andrew Aulin?
Aulin
Oh, yes, he…
Schneider
That you’d like to share.
Aulin
Was, uh—now, the first Andrew Aulin? You know, there’s…
Schneider
Yeah.
Aulin
The first Andrew Aulin, and then there was my husband’s father, Andrew Aulin, and my husband, Andrew Aulin, and none of them have middle names, and, uh, [laughs]…
Schneider
[laughs].
Aulin
So it’s just…
Schneider
Confusing.
Aulin
Uh, but anyway, the first one, uh—it’s was my understanding that he traveled a lot before he settled down and came to Florida, but, um, one of the places that he traveled to or was in was, um, Oviedo, Spain. There was a big University [of Oviedo] there, and evidently, he was a scholar, and he had gone to, uh, [Uppsala] University in Uppsala, Sweden. he was Swedish, and, um—so when he came to Oviedo and they decided they were gonna make a town, and as a postmaster, they had him choose the name, he chose Oviedo, because this area reminded him of that town—city—I guess it was—and, uh—so therefore, he named it Oviedo, because—and—and also it had the Spanish name and Florida has a Spanish name—is a Spanish name. So he all thought it all sorta fit.
Schneider
Oh.
Aulin
And, um, it’s also my understanding—and this is sorta—I’ve heard people sorta joke about it—that he really cared more about reading and his books and doing scholarly things that, uh, he didn’t really care much about his business. He—he had a business, and I heard someone say—I think it was Mr. W. A. Ward’s father, uh, Bill Ward—said, um, that he would like—and maybe it wasn’t Mr. Ward—but anyway it doesn’t matter—it was somebody from that era—said that, uh, you would go into the mercantile store and say, you know, you wanted—I don’t know, um—seven yards of material or whatever, and he’d say, “Well, it’s back over that way,” and he’d go right back to his book [laughs].
Schneider
[laughs].
Aulin
And, uh—so whether people paid him or not he wasn’t real [laughs]…
Schneider
[laughs].
Aulin
But I’m sure they all did pay, because it was a different era, again, at that time, but, uh, they said that they[?]—they would often see him sittin’ outside his—his store—just sittin’ there reading a book…
Schneider
Huh.
Aulin
And, uh, he—it’s also my understanding that he, uh, taught, was one of the first like little school situations here. Not that it was really a school. I don’t know about that. I just know that he taught people whatever he taught them, I don’t know if it was Greek or, uh, some, uh—something more than just grade school kind of things. I’m not sure about that. I just know that, uh—that was, uh,—has been told to me several times—was that he, um—and it may be even—there’s a letter written by, uh, Steen Nelson, uh, who…
Schneider
Uh huh.
Aulin
Nelson and Company.
Schneider
Uh huh.
Aulin
And, uh, in that letter, there’s a descript—description of, uh, Andrew Aulin, and, uh, I think in there, he mentions him being a scholar, and, um, his store, and naming the town, and—and those kind of things, and I have—I just thought of it. I think I have a copy of that letter that I’ll try to provide for you, if I can find it. Uh…
Schneider
Yeah, that’d be great.
Aulin
Uh, then there’s[sic] other people in town that have a copy of it too, so I’m sure that we can locate it, and that’s sorta interesting too. I don’t know much about Steen Nelson, other than Nelson and Company was originally his business.
Schneider
Okay.
Aulin
And, uh, I don’t know if he became a partner with Mr. [Benjamin Franklin] Wheeler[, Sr.], or if the Wheelers just bought it out, or what.
Schneider
Mmhmm.
Aulin
I don’t know that, but, uh, yeah. that’s, uh, how it all started with him.
Schneider
Uh huh, and do, you know, anything about, um, Andrew Aulin’s role as sort of an entrepreneur or stockholder—I think was the word. That I think he was involved in some entrepreneurial ventures with those people. I don’t know if you’ve heard anything about that.
Aulin
Uh, he probably was…
Schneider
Uh huh.
Aulin
I mean, because he was very much involved in the very beginning of Oviedo, and if you look at the land, uh, plats from that time, his name’s everywhere.
Schneider
Uh huh.
Aulin
So I, um—that part though I don’t really know, but I…
Schneider
Uh huh.
Aulin
Do know that once upon a time, he owned a lot of land in Oviedo, and then I think, by the time he passed, there—he had sold it or, uh—I know that my mother-in-law used to talk about, uh, there were boom times and not-boom times, and, uh, in the boom times, everybody had money and had high hopes, and then it would all crash, and—but that’s all throughout history. You know, they…
Schneider
Mmhmm.
Aulin
That—early 1900s, and on, and in 1929, and then on and on, and so…
Schneider
Mmhmm.
Aulin
People would have stuff and then they’d have nothing.
Schneider
Mmhmm.
Aulin
And—but, fortunately, back in those times, if you were a farmer, you could always grow your crop, but—as long as you didn’t have a dust bowl, like they did out West, and that kind of thing, but—yeah.
Schneider
Okay, um, and have you heard about anything in terms of Andrew Aulin, uh, growing citrus? Have you heard any…
Aulin
Yes.
Schneider
Stuff about that? Uh huh.
Aulin
He did. He grew, um,—he had orange groves, um, and I—he had, uh, different properties around. I know that on the, uh, south side of town, uh, he had properties, and then down—what we now call Downtown Oviedo, uh—I think he had properties down there that he grew not oranges on. I think it was, um, other kinds of crops. Uh, I’m thinking strawberries and celery. I don’t think celery was the big thing particularly, at that time. I think celery came along a little later, but, uh, yeah, uh, he did, and I—I that part—I’m sorry to tell ya—I haven’t ever delved into it, but I have always liked to hear the character stories, ya know?
Schneider
Uh huh [laughs].
Aulin
[laughs].
Schneider
Yeah, um, and have you heard anything about him as a postmaster, beyond what you were saying? Have you heard any stories about that, or…
Aulin
Nothing other than him naming the town.
Schneider
Uh huh.
Aulin
And, uh, I don’t know how it came about that he was the first postmaster. Uh, I do know that, uh, prior to that, everybody got their mail from, um, White’s Wharf, but, uh, then I guess they decided they needed a post office in Oviedo.
Schneider
Uh huh, great, and, uh, you mentioned earlier, uh, the Swedish background of the family. Um, do you know anything more about that?
Aulin
Uh, no, other than they’re from a place, um—it’s a big— it’s a big town in, uh, Ov—I mean Spain, uh—Sweden. Um, it’s right on the—the ocean. I, uh, don’t[?]—I have all this stuff at my house, because, um, I have sort of like a history, but I can’t think of it now. Uh, it’s called “getting old.”
Schneider
Did you say before Uppsala? [inaudible]…
Aulin
Well, Uppsala was where he went to university.
Schneider
Oh, okay. That was the university. [inaudible]…
Aulin
Yes, he went to school there, and, um, I can’t think of the name of the town where he was born, but that’s as far back as, uh, we’ve been able to go in his genealogy is to that town. Um, it starts with an M. I can’t think of it, but anyway, uh, he—I think it was a relatively young age when he left Sweden. I mean, um, not as a child, but [inaudible] probably in his early, early 20s, and then he traveled, and I think he even lived for a time in, uh, Ohio, and then, um—but it wasn’t until he came to Oviedo that he met his wife,[9] who was a Lawton, and, uh, her, uh, family was one of the main fam—founding families of, uh, Oviedo.
Schneider
Mmhmm.
Aulin
Uh, the Lawtons, uh, and Wheelers, and, uh, Aulins—they were sorta—and they sorta—and the Lees—the Lees also is another…
Schneider
Mmhmm.
Aulin
Name. Speaking of Lee, my mother-in-law, when she was a child, went with, uh, her uncle and her father on a, uh, river trip to Rockledge to get some—her uncle was the grocer. So they went on a skiff. She’s always called it that. I don’t know a skiff—from Lake Monroe to, uh, Rockledge, er, you know, by the coast, and, uh, I didn’t even know that the waterway would—would go that far, uh, on the St. Johns [River], but, um, back then, it did for sure, and she talked about how they camped on the way, and—but another person in their party was a gentleman named Thee Lee. I’m thinking his name was Theodore Lee. Uh, uh, I don’t know, but anyway, uh, we called him Thee Lee, and, um, he was a young man and he was—I guess knew her father or the uncle or somethin’. Anyway, he went on this trip with them and he would kill duck or whatever for their supper, and then she would always laugh and she says, “And then, 10 years or so later, I met him, because I was gonna marry his cousin.” So he was…
Schneider
Oh.
Aulin
Andrew’s cousin.
Schneider
Uh huh.
Aulin
And, um—so I—I just thought that was so neat. She was just she had to be under 11 years old, because her father, uh, got killed on the railroad when she was, uh, 11. So she had to be pretty little kid when she went on that trip, but she remembered so much about them killing the geese and roasting them on the fire at night.
Schneider
Uh huh.
Aulin
And isn’t that an adventure for an 11-year-old? I mean golly.
Schneider
Yeah, wow.
Aulin
Uh, sounds so cool [laughs].
Schneider
Uh huh, awesome. Yeah, and what else have you heard about the Lawtons, and, uh, Lona Lawton, and everybody?
Aulin
Well, um, I just know that, uh, there was a Mr. Lawton, uh, here in Oviedo that, uh, when he—he found out that I was married to—and I worked in a bank—when he found out that I, uh, was married to an Aulin, uh, his wife would send me cookies every once in a while.
Schneider
Aw.
Aulin
And also Andy’s cousin’s wife lived there, uh—worked there, and so they were all—they were very kind to us, uh, just because of the relationship, I guess, and, um, I just thought that that was so cool that he would, uh—that she would do that, and now, I can’t remember which Lawton they were, because, uh, at that time, there was[sic] several older Lawtons living in Oviedo.
Schneider
Hm.
Aulin
And, uh—but that was so cool that he—that she would send us those cookies just because we were [laughs]…
Schneider
[laughs].
Aulin
Aulins. It was just this family ties, I guess, but, um, the—I’m trying to think of some of the—there was, um, a lot of Lawtons. Uh, I think there was like—it was of two different mothers, but there was like a bunch of ‘em. I—I’m wantin’ to say eight, or maybe even more than eight…
Schneider
Hm.
Aulin
Children, and, um, so they, um, settled here in Oviedo, and then, uh, I’ve since learned that there’s some Lawtons of that same group that live up in, uh, Northwest Florida.
Schneider
Oh.
Aulin
And, uh, I’ve been in contact with their, um, great-grandchildren, um, but, uh, they—they were big farmers, and, um—then also, I think they, uh, were teachers, and, uh, I know that, um, another one of my husband’s aunts was a teacher, and she, uh, married a gentleman and they lived out—and went out to live out in Texas, and that’s where the original Andrew Aulin died. He was in Texas. that’s where he’s buried—is in Texas, because he was living out there with his daughter, and, um—but yeah, they—I think they sort of have a—a legacy of teaching and farming.
Schneider
Mmhmm, yeah. Um, have you heard anything about, uh, Lona Lawton as—and her role as a switchboard operator after the [World] War [I]?
Aulin
Lona Lawton?
Schneider
Mmhmm.
Aulin
Or Alice Aulin?
Schneider
Um, I believe it was Lona Lawton that they mentioned in the book.
Aulin
Nah, I…
Schneider
Maybe.
Aulin
What war?
Schneider
Um, I said after World War—World War I?
Aulin
Uh, that would have had to have been Andy’s mother,
Schneider
Oh, okay.
Aulin
Alice.
Schneider
Okay.
Aulin
Mary Alice Aulin.
Schneider
[inaudible].
Aulin
Because Lona Lawton…
Schneider
Uh huh.
Aulin
Was, um, Andrew’s mother.
Schneider
Uh huh.
Aulin
And she died before, um, Andy’s mother met him.
Schneider
Oh.
Aulin
So I—she met him, um, around 1920.
Schneider
Hm.
Aulin
Something like that.
Schneider
Uh huh.
Aulin
Um, maybe twe—even ’22—something like that, ‘cause she was, uh—well, she was born in 1904, and, um, so she was only like 18 in ’22, so yeah.
Schneider
Hm.
Aulin
So Lona had—had died…
Schneider
Ah.
Aulin
Before then.
Schneider
Uh huh.
Aulin
Uh, and she, uh—I think way before then. I think in the early 1900s.[10] Uh, Andy’s father was the youngest child, and he was born in like 18-something.
Schneider
Oh, okay.
Aulin
Like, uh, 1893, I’m thinking—somewhere in that area.
Schneider
Hm.
Aulin
So, yeah, she had been dead a long time.
Schneider
Hm, mmhmm.
Aulin
Um, so it wasn’t her. It was Andy’s mother, and I don’t remember, um, I mean it was after World War I that she, uh, did that because, uh, she was like 18 when she started.
Schneider
Mmhmm.
Aulin
And then, at one point, uh, she got married and—but then, at a later time, they came and put the switchboard in her house.
Schneider
Ah.
Aulin
They lived on Graham [Avenue].
Schneider
Oh.
Aulin
And then she ran it from there, and then, um, another time, when she lived on Myrtle Street, they’ve[sic] moved it there, and she—but she had the—it, like, blew up in her ear, or…
Schneider
Uh huh [laughs].
Aulin
I don’t know what you’d call it. Uh, it had a short somehow and it made her, uh, almost deaf in one ear from doing that, and that was—I think that was like in the ‘30s…
Schneider
Hm.
Aulin
When that happened.
Schneider
And have you heard anything about Andrew Aulin’s experience in World War I, uh, so [inaudible].
Aulin
Yes, I know that he was, um, uh—now, this is Andrew Aulin, Jr.
Schneider
Oh, okay, sorry.
Aulin
Uh, Andy’s father—my husband’s father.
Schneider
Uh huh.
Aulin
He was, uh, in, um, France during World War I, and he was, um, gassed. He got injured, uh, or, you know, not wounded, but, uh, harmed or disabled, uh, somewhat, by having, uh, gas, because, you know, that was the war when they did the—did that. he was in the trenches, and one of the funny or odd things, I think, is, um, they don’t eat—eat potatoes very much in the Aulin family, uh, or that part of the Aulin family, because all he got to eat when he was, uh, overseas was potatoes, and he said he hoped he never saw another potato, so…
Schneider
[laughs].
Aulin
[laughs] Andy’s mother cooked rice every day, and, uh, when I got married, I cooked rice every day for many, many years, and then I finally taught my husband that, you know, life will go on without rice, so [laughs]
Schneider
[laughs] [inaudible].
Aulin
But, uh, rice was the big thing. They ate rice instead of potatoes, and another thing, because of his, uh, eating habits, or lack of, when he was over there, uh, he wouldn’t eat gravy that was white—you know, made with milk.
Schneider
Oh.
Aulin
Because that was just—that’s all they got over there—was white gravy. Er, he thought it had no taste. So Mrs. Aulin—even if the gravy didn’t come out dark enough, she would put like instant coffee in it or somethin’ to make it dark.
Schneider
[laughs].
Aulin
[laughs] And that’s a good trick.
Schneider
Uh huh.
Aulin
It makes it taste better, if you just put a li’l coffee in it.
Schneider
Huh [laughs].
Aulin
That’s one of the tricks I’ve learned from her, uh, but yeah. I don’t know of any, uh—I just know that he went over there, uh, and got more or less wounded, and, uh, that whole family, I think, is, uh, been in World War—his—my husband’s oldest—older brother[11] was in World War II and in the Korean War. My husband was in, uh, [the] Vietnam [War], and, um, so they’ve all, you know, served their country.
Schneider
[inaudible].
Aulin
And I, uh, think that’s sorta something that most of the people in Oviedo did. I mean, there was a lot of people in Oviedo that, uh, served in World War II, and, uh, even some of the people that weren’t in the military, they served by, uh, manning the—they had a tower that they watched for…
Schneider
Oh.
Aulin
Airplanes and what have you, like a civil defense kind of thing…
Schneider
Okay.
Aulin
And, uh, I know that Andy’s sisters did some of that and the, uh, other girls in town, uh, volunteered to do that, and there was—the tower was downtown, uh, by the red light too…
Schneider
h huh.
Aulin
From what I understand. I think that’s where it was. Have to ask somebody who was here then, but I think that’s where it was from the stories...
Schneider
Mmhmm.
Aulin
They tell.
Schneider
Mmhmm, um, and you mentioned some of the founding families of Oviedo. What—is there anything else—any other stories you know about them, or, um—besides [inaudible]…
Aulin
Well, I do know that, uh, it—I think this is sort of funny. Uh, When I came and I was living with Andy’s aunt and she would mention someone or I would mention someone, and she would say something like, “Oh, they’re one of the new people.”
Schneider
Oh [laughs].
Aulin
[laughs] And I would say, “Oh, when did—when did they come to Oviedo?” And she says, “Oh, I think they came in like the 20s.”
Schneider
[laughs].
Aulin
[laughs] And—she—her family was the Jacobs, and they—her father settled on—at—at Lake Pickett…
Schneider
Mmhmm.
Aulin
Way back in the 1800s. Uh, his brother settled on Lake Mills.
Schneider
Yeah.
Aulin
And then his sister was married to, uh, a Kilby, I think, and they settled in, um, Geneva on Lake Harney.
Schneider
Uh huh.
Aulin
So it—out of the same family, they all settled on lakes, and then Aunt Nettie married, uh, an Aulin, and so she was like from first—a first family of two different places, and, uh, she used to say—and not only she—when I would first come to Oviedo and I’d be like at my grandmother’s, somebody would say, uh, “Oh, we’d better get back to Oviedo before the creek rises,” or if you were in Oviedo, uh, they would say, “Well, we’d better get back to Chuluota before the creek rises,” and Aunt Nettie explained to me what that was—is that once upon a time there was a—a low bridge, where the regular bridge is going from Oviedo to Chuluota, but it was a low bridge, and if the water got high, you couldn’t go across it, because you couldn’t see the bridge, and, uh, so it was true that if it was raining or something like that and the bridge got overflowed, then you were stuck. You had to…
Schneider
[laughs].
Aulin
[laughs] stay there. So that’s why they said that. They—and they still say it as far as I know, to this day, “If, you know—if the creek rises, we’d better,” just as a sort of joke or whatever, and, um, I [laughs] always thought that—well, I liked it when I found out what it—what it meant, and there was something else I was gonna tell you around those lines, but, um, every little town has its—its little sayings, and funny things, and, um—but I can’t think of what else I was gonna tell you. Anyway…
Schneider
Uh huh [laughs]. So tell me about, um, you mentioned some of the artifacts that you had, um, so tell me a little bit about what those were or if you have any stories about them.
Aulin
Well, I don’t really have any artifacts. I have some copies of things that…
Schneider
Uh huh.
Aulin
Uh, have been handed to me, because of my interest in genealogy.
Schneider
Uh huh.
Aulin
Uh, I have, uh, copies of some pages out of a Lawton, uh, Bible that, uh—these people I’ve met in Northwest Florida—and it has, of course, the names of people that were here, you know, like, uh, Lona, and Narcissa [Melissa Lawton], and those, um, Lawtons, and, um, then I have, uh, different, you know, writings, and newspaper clippings, and, um, things like that. I had some, um, things that belonged to my husband’s, um, father, but I sent them to, uh—or had his grandmother send them—send them to her son—her grandson in Tennessee, because he was interested in that stuff…
Schneider
Mmhmm.
Aulin
And not many people, you know, really are, and so…
Schneider
Mmhmm.
Aulin
I thought that would be a good thing for him to have, but as far as, uh, actual hold-it-in-your-hand kind of thing, other than copies and—and writings, I don’t— I don’t really have anything.
Schneider
Uh huh, and what were some of the things that were sent? what were some of the, um…
Aulin
Uh, well, I’ve got, uh—we have a copy of, uh, Nar—Narcissa’s diary.
Schneider
Oh.
Aulin
A portion of it that she did
Schneider
Oh.
Aulin
In World War…
[child cries]
Aulin
I mean in the Civil War.
Schneider
Oh.
Aulin
Uh, and that’s very interesting.
Schneider
Wow.
Aulin
And I mean it really takes you back in—in time.
Schneider
Uh huh.
Aulin
And there—one of the things she writes about is, uh, having to make, uh, shoes for, uh, some of the people that worked there, and she didn’t—obviously, they were slaves, but she didn’t call them that.
Schneider
Hm.
Aulin
It was “our people,” you know?
Schneider
Mmhmm.
Aulin
And she had to make them some shoes, and, uh, she talked about the war, and, she, you know—she heard bad news that would come down from Virginia, and she was in, uh—right outside Thomasville, Georgia, is where they lived at that time.
Schneider
Huh.
Aulin
And, uh, it’s really, really a treasure having—having that, uh, but it’s, uh, a copy of it, and it’s, uh—I don’t even know who’s got the original. Oh, I do. I[?] happen to be—the original, uh, got washed away in a flood they had out in Texas, where…
Schneider
Oh.
Aulin
Where it was—where it was kept, uh, which is regrettable, ‘cause, I mean, now it’s gone, but fortunately, we all have—or not all of us—but a lot of us have copies of it.
Schneider
Wow[?].
Aulin
So that’s really, really another treasure.
Schneider
Uh huh.
Aulin
And, uh, then I have these like—I think I had already told you—these copies of that—pages out of that Bible, where they note the family happenings—you know, deaths, births—that kind of thing—weddings, Um, and like—like I said, the Steen, uh, Nelson letter. I’ve got, I think, probably, uh, all the books and things that were written, and—and I have treasures from the, um, centennial, and newspaper clippings, and things like that.
Schneider
Awesome, very cool. Um, so are there any other stories that you want to share about—in general, that you’ve been thinking about? Um…
Aulin
Well, I, you know—I can sit here and tell you stories, uh, about, uh, my mother-in-law [inaudible], but I don’t know if they would have any interest to, um—I mean, it’s just—you would just be interested if you were her granddaughter or something like that, you know? It’s just sorta family things.
Schneider
Uh huh.
Aulin
But, um, Aunt Nettie, uh, as I said, you know—she—her husband was the one they called “The Judge.” he was the Justice of the Peace, and, um, she, um, also had, uh—it wasn’t a boarding house, but she had extra rooms in her house, and there was a time when the railroad people were working here or whatever, uh, and, you know, Oviedo used to be really busy with all of the fruit, vegetables being shipped in and outta here—or being shipped out of here.
Schneider
Uh huh.
Aulin
And, um, so she would, um, let out a room to these people that work for the railroad, and, uh, she used to tell me little saying—like one of ‘em would, uh, put cheese in his coffee, and [laughs]…
Schneider
[laughs].
Aulin
I’ve never heard of that before, and then she would always say, uh—she was a swe—sweet, old lady. She was so precious, and she would say, uh, “Nadine, you want some cheese in your coffee?” I said, “No, Aunt Nettie. I don’t want any cheese in my coffee.”
Schneider
[laughs].
Aulin
That’s what the man would say. He would say…
Schneider
Oh.
Aulin
“I want some cheese for her coffee.” [laughs]
Schneider
[laughs].
Aulin
Just little stories like that…
Schneider
Uh huh.
Aulin
You know, that doesn’t mean anything to anybody, but…
Schneider
Uh huh.
Aulin
Just, uh, you had to know the people. You had to be there, you know, sort of thing. So…
Schneider
Uh huh, great, and, um, so do you have any last words about maybe what impact that your relatives and—have had in the town in the early history or just any other thoughts about Oviedo’s history in general?
Aulin
Well, I [inaudible]—I think that Oviedo has a, uh—a good history, you know? You don’t really think of too many bad things happening in Oviedo. I don’t know—don’t know that I recall anything bad. I did[?]—I know that there’s been some, uh—there used to be a prison camp out on the way to Winter Park, on that road.
Schneider
Uh huh.
Aulin
And, uh, I think there was an escape, uh—escape there, and I think, uh, that’s when Mr. John Courier[sp] got hurt. Now, this you’re gonna have to talk to other people about, because I don’t really know, but I do know that there’s been things like that that have happened…
Schneider
Uh huh.
Aulin
That are tragic.
Schneider
Uh huh.
Aulin
But, um, I—I don’t know any firsthand information about that, and—but as far as Oviedo is concerned, I think that, uh, like I said in the beginning, the—the churches is[sic] what it was all based on, and I think pretty much, it still has that, uh, heritage, that rock, that—that keeps it sorta held together, and I think all that’s important. Uh, we have a lot more churches now than just the Methodist and the Baptist.
Schneider
Uh huh.
Aulin
And, uh, the, uh, church that’s, uh, mainly black people on the, uh, way out of town…
Schneider
Mmhmm.
Aulin
Uh, I think that’s been there for years and years and years and years, and, uh, I noticed the other day, it’s growing like gangbusters, just like the other churches.
Schneider
Uh huh.
Aulin
And that’s really great, and that’s really a good foundation, and I think that they’ve—we’ve maintained that foundation.
Schneider
Uh huh.
Aulin
So that’s a good thing.
Schneider
Great, alright. Well, thank you so much for talking with us. this was really helpful.
Aulin
Oh, well, thank you. I hope that it was. I, uh, enjoyed it. Sorta nice bringing those memories back. Sorry I couldn’t remember some things.
Schneider
No, no. It’s—that’s great.
[1] Andrew Aulin III.
[2] Mary Alice Powell Aulin.
[3] Lee Gary.
[4] Now the University of Central Florida.
[5] Now the Citizens Bank of Florida.
[6] Andrew Aulin, Jr.
[7] Oviedo: Biography of a Town.
[8] Richard R. Adicks, Jr.
[9] Emma “Lona” Leonora Lawton Aulin.
[10] 1904.
[11] Charles Warren Aulin.
Montgomery
This is the oral history interview of Ingrid Bryant, and the interview is being conducted on March 21st, 2015, by Erin Montgomery at the interviewee’s home in Oviedo, Florida, and The topics of this interview will include Oviedo history and, uh, Central Florida history. I also I just want to let you know that I’m gonna to be, um, as quiet as I can, um, not to be rude, or not to risk[?]—like…
Bryant
I know.
Montgomery
Uh, but to just, uh, keep the audio, um, clear—I guess is the—the idea, um—and less noisy. So do you have any questions before I start asking you questions?
Bryant
Not really.
Montgomery
Okay, alright. So, um, where were you born?
Bryant
I was born in Munich, Germany, on February 21st, 1944, in the height of the Second World War. My mother married an American soldier in 1955, who brought my brother and I—my brother Norbert and myself and my mom to America. They—he was with the [U.S.] Air Force. he was stationed at Pinecastle Air Force Base,[1] which is now the jetport that we have for—that was the Air Force Base, and, uh, we went to school in Orlando—Cherokee Junior High School—my brother and I.
I, unfortunately, never applied myself to learn English. It—it wasn’t really offered in Germany in those days yet, and so I came here not speaking English. My grandmother told me that if I didn’t like America, that I have to give it a year, but she’ll send me a plane ticket—no, not a plane ticket. She hated planes. A—a boat ticket to come back to Germany. Well, I arrived in America, stepped on American soil on January 3, 1958. So I said, Well, you know, grandma’s gonna get me back home, so I don’t really need to stay here, because the children can be quite—not so understanding about anything that’s different than what they’re used to. So I was being made fun of ver—uh, very badly and it hurt my feelings, ‘cause I was[sic] always wanted—wanted to fit in. That didn’t happen in Orlando, and they—they really didn’t know what to do with me, ‘cause there were no ESOL [English as a Second Language] lessons. So here’s my year: uh, we get a, uh, telegram December 15th that my grandmother had passed. so there went my chance at ever getting back to Germany. So I said, Well, Ingrid, got to make the best of a bad situation, and my mom, in the meantime, knowing my difficulties, she found this place called Oviedo.
Now, my gen—and she was told they had a good school there. Mind you: I come from Munich, Germany, which at that point, in 1958, had a population of one million people. So it was already culture shock coming to Orlando, ‘cause it was quite small and, of course, no circus, no opera, no nothing[sic] like that, but we already had that, because the American Marshall Plan,[2] that was in place after the war, had helped rebuild Germany, and I am eternally grateful to not only to my American soldiers, but to the American people that[sic] sent care packages over there, and get—I had clothes, and the American soldiers—they shared their food with us—their rations—and I had my first Juicy Fruit gum and so forth, when I was a little girl, but—o we come to Chuluota, which at that time, was a development that—that just had started up it and was low-income housing, more or less, but it was, you know—there were nice houses, and my mom found one that she said, “Well, we’ll move here, then you can go to school in Oviedo.”
I went to Oviedo High School, and, uh, it was completely like night and day. They accepted me, and my English teacher—she told me, “When you graduate from Oviedo High School, you will be speaking English.” I said, Yeah, right, and, uh,my math teacher let me do my math wor—you know, the way I worked my problems the way I was taught in Germany. She said as long as I worked the problem—Ms. Deshaso[sp]—then—and I have the right answer, then she would accept that, so that worked. My history teacher—God bless him. He was also the coach of Oviedo High School, and he—He was the most patriotic man you would ever wanna meet, and he instilled the love of America to me. I already knew America was special, however, the way he taught history—and in 1960— was the first year that we had Americanism vs. communism. They brought in an ol’ TV, like we used to have—black and white—and we had an hour of that a week, and I said, Oh, my goodness, you know, with this—and then Sputnik and all of that happened right about that time.
I managed to get a command of the English language, and yes, I graduated from Oviedo High Schools[sic], and I learned English, and then, I wanted to become an American citizen. So I went to Coach [Paul] Mikler—they named the—the baseball field after him in Oviedo. I went to him and I said “Coach, I want to become a citizen. What do I do?” He said, “Just do it.”
So in 1967, I became an American citizen. I was given a booklet to read, that I read from cover to cover, memorized whatever I could, and when I got there to the George C., um, Young [Federal], uh, Courthouse, which is now the Diocese of Orlando in Orlando. They bought that building. I went there and I thought, Oh, boy. I am good to go, and I get to the examiner and she asks me three questions: Who is the first president? Who is the president now? And what are the first two—Ten Amendments to the [U.S.] Constitution? And I said, “Now what?” She says, “That’s good.” she says, “good.” I[sic] says, “I know you can write English.” I say “Yeah, but is that all your asking me when I memorized that whole book?” She says “That’s all I need you to do. You know what you’re doing,” and so I became an American citizen in September, and then I—I had gotten—no let me backtrack.
My brother, Norbert, that came to—from Germany with me—he was a year younger than me. that’s him up there, and, uh, He, uh—he, uh, kind of excelled, because he went to the accelerated schools in Germany that we start—we’re at fourth grade, and they test us, and then we are separated to go to über die Realschule, which he did, but, of course, his silly sister that was older than him didn’t measure up. So he—he did not have the difficulty learning English like I did. He had one of those photographic minds. He could just—but when I came to Oviedo, there was one—another culture shock waiting for me. I had to repeat the ninth grade, which put me in the same grade as my brother, which at the time was a big help to me, but was also not what I wanted.
1963, I graduated with my brother on June 10th. July—I mean June 23rd, I married an Oviedo boy. July 16th, my brother Norbert was killed in a car accident. it was an accident. So he’s buried at the Oviedo Cemetery. So that was very difficult, very difficult, ‘til this day, I miss my brother, but from the marriage I had from my first husband, I have three children: Christopher, Patricia, and Tina—Christina. I had to name her after her brother, because he wanted a brother and she had turned out to be a sister. so he got a sister named after him. Then I—I had a little difficulty with my first husband when I wanted to name our first child, which was Christopher, after my brother, Norbert. He wouldn’t—he didn’t want me to do that. So I didn’t.
Then, I married my second husband, after that marriage didn’t make it, and his name was Norbert. He was German like me. I said “God, you have a sense of humor, don’t you?” I was 35 years old. I end up pregnant, and I have my little Norbert. He’s now 35 years old. So that worked out to my favor too. From my four children, I now have nine grandchildren and four great-grandchildren, which I’m a very blessed lady.
My other thing that—Oviedo has been holy ground to me. They’ve been good to me. When I wanted a job, they had an, uh—they needed a customer service rep]resentative for the City of Oviedo. This was in 1986. At that time, they hired me for the water department to collect the monies and do—be accounts receivable, so to speak. I was good at math, and, uh—so I went to work and my boss interviewed me—A. M. Jones. They named the water plant after him, and he says, “Mrs. Ingrid, why would you wanna work in Oviedo? You’re never going to make any money here.” I said, “Because I want to give back.” I said, “You’re going to pay me a living.” I said, “I want to give back. You—Oviedo taught me English. Oviedo took me in, and made me feel very special.” So he hired me and I retired there in 2004.
At that point, all along, when we came from Germany, there was never a Catholic church in Oviedo, and my mom—he wrote the Vatican in the early [19]60s, and they gave us a priest to come out and say Mass in Chuluota at the [Chuluota] Sportsman Club—it was called—which is now the Girl Scout [Citrus] Camp in Chuluota. So she managed to do that. When they decide—and the developer of Chuluota gave us seven acres so we could build a church and a school, and that was back in the early ‘60s. So the Diocese of St. Augustine, which was—we were under, at that point. the Orlando Diocese wasn’t established ‘til 1968. Bishop Joseph Patrick Hurley decided to build St. Joseph’s [Catholic Church] in Union Park first, and he said we would be next. Well, that didn’t happen.
So I kept—when we came to Diocese of Orlando, I decided to go on a writing campaign. I like to write letters, and, uh, I would ask the bishops, you know, “Can we have a Catholic church in Oviedo?” And I’d get letters back saying—they couldn’t say we didn’t have any property, because we did—Chuluota-Oviedo. To me, it’s about the same, and so they told me, “We have no priest.” so—okay. I bought off on that. So 1996 comes along, and my mom passes away, and on her—she’s 71, and on her deathbed, she said to me, “Ingrid, you still don’t have that Catholic church.” I said “Mom, I been trying.” She said, “Try harder.” About the same time, this doctor comes into my office, who moved into Oviedo. No, actually, he came earlier. Let me back track. He came in earlier, and I noticed his name was Carlos Velez-Munich. I said, Munich? Dear Lord. Is this another sign? Just like my little Norbert that I managed to come—that came—that I wanted.
So 1996, I had this lady, Anna Marcantoni[sp]—she used to help me file at the city, because I was busy collecting money, making sure the right accounts were hit in the—in the systems and so forth and so on, and so she would come in and she’d file my applications for me, and she says, Ingrid, “Spanish community wants a Catholic church in Oviedo too.” I said, “They do?” She says, “Yeah, we have formed a—a group called Grupo Shalom.” I said, “well, get me in touch with whoever is in charge of that.” I said, “I need to talk to them. I said, “I’ve been trying forever to get this church and my mom said I’d better work harder.”
So I got to meet Dr. Velez, and they had a meeting, and he got us an appointment with the—with, uh, Father [Richard] Walsh, in St. Margaret Mary [Catholic Church] in Winter Park. He got us a—an appointment with—you’re not going to believe what bishop that was—Bishop Norbert [Mary Leonard James] Dorsey. So that is what started the—getting Most Precious Blood Catholic Church. So there was a standing joke in the [Oviedo] City Hall that if Ingrid ever gets her church, she can address the property. So I just came back from Barbados with my aunt, and, uh, my friend called me and she said, “Ingrid, you have to”—Laura Feldman, and she’s Jewish, mind ya. I’m Catholic. She says, “Ingrid, you have to come down here. Diocese wants an address for this property, and I can’t move until you come and do it.” So I addressed the property: 113 Lockwood Boulevard, and so then we had our first Mass on the 24th of April, 2005, which we’re now having our anniversary—for 10 year anniversary. Unbelievable. Un—incredible what this town has meant to me, along with everything goes along with it. So I consider myself blessed. Now, my passion was getting the church, which I succeeded.
My other passion is getting a museum in Oviedo. We had—I—I love the [Oviedo] Historical Society, and I’ve always been involved in history,’ cause in Germany, history has always been right to the forefront. I mean—we try not to let history repeat itself over there, but it did with two world wars, but again—so I’ve been on a kind of a mission—sort of wanting this museum, and when Mrs. Clara [Lee Wheeler] Evans made a bequest of an acre property on Oviedo Street for the historical society to have—because I felt we were the little red-headed stepchild.
Montgomery
[laughs].
Bryant
Child—children, because we never had a place to meet. So we would go from this church to that church, to here, there and yonder, you know, and so she made that bequest. Well, unfortunately that was—she passed away, and that was kind of passed over by the City, buying the old [Geneva] Post Office building that’s on Geneva Drive to make a senior center. So I was just a little bit taken aback by that, because when I questioned her one time, I said, “Well, you know we do need someplace,” and she says, “Are you doubting my word? I told you we’d get an acre of property,” but that didn’t come to fruition evidently, because the—it’s an off-trade now for the post office, which, uh, her family sold to the city for $400,000. I was upset with that, because I’ve been here forever, I knew how—when it was built, and I just—I—I’m just, you know, I don’t understand this at all, but evidently the City and the powers that be in the historical society decided to make that happen.
Now, it hasn’t evolved to what it’s supposed to be, because I do believe they have now put the new downtown of Oviedo—south of Oviedo—on the forefront, which I personally have to agree to disagree with the [Oviedo City] Council and with the Mayor [of Oviedo][3] for doing that. Reason being: there was[sic] only two defined downtowns in Seminole County. One is Sanford. One was Oviedo. So I know the road is going to be cut through, but I thought maybe they would do what Sanford did and embellish what they had and work with that, rather than spend all this money with a new downtown that I, uh—I’m—I don’t understand. Let’s put it that way. I do not understand the logic behind this.
I do know that we put down waterlines in 1968. I do know the infrastructure of Oviedo, to me, is of the utmost importance, and I’m—I’m worried about things maybe I shouldn’t be, uh, but I worked for the city and I love this city with my whole heart. Always have, always will. These are two issues that I’m not comfortable with. I love the people, and when I was a customer service representative and Oviedo had this explosion of growth, I always told my cli—my people that came in and signed up for water, “I need you to do me one favor, and that is to blend in. Oviedo is a wonderful place, you don’t try to change Oviedo. Oviedo is fine,” and I tell them, “Don’t let the overalls fool you in Oviedo either.” That is a standing joke I’ve had forever, but again, all in all, big picture—as I try to look at in my whole life is the big picture—it’s a great place for families, it’s a great place for everybody. it was a great place and still is for me. I’ve al—I—I’m totally in love with Oviedo, and I want everybody to love it as I do and do what’s best for everything, but, mm [sighs] I guess when UCF came in…
Montgomery
Yeah.
Bryant
I was there. I was there. I lived south of Oviedo, and the Attamoochee[sp] site was the site they built the university on—had three buildings. It was—it was something to behold, and that was in 196—they didn’t build it in 1963, but they made it happen in 1963, the year I graduated. So I have a daughter that graduated from UCF [University of Central Florida], I have a son in-law that graduated from UCF, I have a daughter in-law that graduated from UCF.
Montgomery
[laughs].
Bryant
And it goes on and on and on, and I am one happy girl, and the school has made me so proud, because you—I mean it was FTU—Florida Technical University,[4] and now, as it’s almost—I do believe the second—third—second most populated school in U—United States. So that’s something to be proud of—for them being, uh, right there by Oviedo. Oviedo is special, and hopefully and prayerfully, after my life is done it’ll continue to go on, and please remember always: blend into Oviedo. Don’t try to change it please.
Montgomery
Uh, what was your favorite part about growing up here in Oviedo? Did you have a favorite to go when you were in high school, or…
Bryant
Oh, we had a teen club.
[phone rings]
Bryant
We had a teen club in Oviedo. [inaudible]. Just…
[phone rings]
Bryant
Pick up the thing and turn it…
[phone rings]
Bryant
Just…
Montgomery
[laughs].
Bryant
Just the…
[phone rings]
Bryant
There—there you go. Okay. Sor—sorry about that.
Montgomery
[laughs] Don’t worry about that [laughs].
Bryant
What was my favorite place in Oviedo?
[phone rings]
Montgomery
Mmhmm.
Bryant
Was the teen club we created out in Chuluota, and I, as a non-citizen, became president of that [inaudible] [laughs].
Montgomery
[laughs].
Bryant
Of that teen club. We had dances on Saturday nights, and as far as—Oviedo had one thing that I can call to mind, at that time. You have to understand we were very small, and we had a swimming pool, and every Tuesday, we would go down on Magnolia Avenue in Oviedo, and Tuesday night, we would have a teen night there, and we would dance and swim and do whatever kids do. Yes, that was it, and, uh, they did, however, close that swimming pool down, so it’s not there anymore. I think it’s a tennis court now, and, uh, we had one grocery store, the Country Quick.
The one thing I would like for Oviedo to get again that I know us old people would probably need, because you guys are so techy with your Facebook and all…
Montgomery
[laughs].
Bryant
And Miss Ingrid don’t do Facebook, because I’m from Germany, and I think to myself, My God, this is a double-edged sword. It’s too much information, and it can be used very badly. So the one thing that I would like to have Oviedo have again is a newspaper. Our newspapers are all gone, so it’s hard and difficult for the older people to find out what’s going on, just like last weekend, the Taste of Oviedo. I mean—it was well represented, however, not advertised in the paper. I get The Orlando Sentinel, but we get bits and pieces, but I love The Seminole Chronicle. That gave information that was pertinent to our area, what we had going on here, and I feel with 35,000-plus people, please, somebody do us another newspaper. Larry Neely had his newspaper back in the ‘60s, and it was called The Outlook,and then it became The Oviedo Voice, and I think The Oviedo Voice is—is in existence, but from what I understand, when taking to the Mayor, they’re all struggling right now, even The Orlando Sentinel. So—and I’ve read that forever, but that’s the one thing I would like them to have.
We’re getting the hospital, which is a good thing. I am so happy. I—I’ve prayed about that, and things are evolving, and maybe the new downtown is thought by somebody, you know, that might know better than I do, but I just thought that the old was quaint and was what Oviedo was. More so than the apartment buildings that I see going up. I question that. Why—and the Albertsons across the street—but I don’t want to complain. It will all work itself out, Hopefully—prayerfully.
Montgomery
[laughs].
Bryant
So—but the museum—I still want a museum. I do, and maybe—hey, I got a Catholic church after 40 years of praying [laughs].
Montgomery
[laughs].
Bryant
It might happen.
Montgomery
[laughs].
Bryant
It just might happen. Maybe not in my lifetime, but other people’s. Are there any other question that you have?
Montgomery
Um, is there anything else that you miss about Oviedo from your youth?
Bryant
From my youth?
Montgomery
Yes, anything [inaudible]…
Bryant
Knowing everybody in town.
Montgomery
[laughs].
Bryant
Knowing every car that went by my house, knowing that if my—if it rained outside and the laundry was on my clothesline, somebody’d come in and put it in my house. We didn’t have locked doors. We had so much going. everybody—it was just a different life that, right now, it—that’s passing, but the only thing I would get mad at back then—when somebody would take my laundry back in from outside because it rained—my neighbor mostly—is that she didn’t fold it [laughs]. That—yeah, I miss the—I miss the closeness of the people, you know, anymore. it’s—I still have lots of friends here, because I had a position in the City where people knew me, and so I—I—I treasure my customers.
I do, and I—if it—if I woulda worked longer—but I was getting con—conflicts with trying to this Catholic church—mixing church and state. That just didn’t go over so well. Especially, when I’d ask people when they came to Oviedo, I said “What church do you go to?” And say “Well, we go to Catholic church,” and I would tell them—I said, “Well, we don’t have one yet, but if you help me pray, we’re gonna get one soon,” and [laughs] I don’t think that’s something you should do. So I guess I’m not the politically correct person…
Montgomery
[laughs].
Bryant
You want as a customer service person anymore, but these are things that, you know—yeah, but I love Oviedo. In spite of everything, I love Oviedo, and love my police chief[5] too, because he helped me catch a criminal that burglarized this house, and, uh, we caught her. I—like I said, I love Oviedo—period—and I want what’s best for Oviedo, and I want it to go on and on and on and be the success that it is, and who knows? Someday, it will be as big as Munich.
Montgomery
[laughs].
Bryant
One million population, which will make me happy [laughs].
Montgomery
[laughs].
Bryant
Maybe not anybody else, but me, ‘cause[?] I’ve always been a city girl.
Montgomery
So why did you choose to stay in Oviedo your whole life?
Bryant
Why did I choose?
Montgomery
Mmhmm.
Bryant
Why would I not?
Montgomery
[laughs].
Bryant
I go to Germany pretty much every year to see my relatives over there that I have, and—but Oviedo’s my home, and I have, eh—everything that I have built up is Oviedo. So, yeah, I’ve stayed.
Montgomery
Is there anything else you want to say or talk about before we end?
Bryant
I just keep my Oviedo as special as it—as it’s always been, and maybe, if there’s—if by some chance, we could get a museum [laughs] to where people in the future know that we were the celery capital of the world, and all the people, the backbone of the community that has already passed on, the people that I miss dearly, especially Clara Evans, uh—yeah, keep it going and—and build a museum, and life would be good.
Montgomery
All right, the—those were all the questions that I had for you. So…
Bryant
Thank you, dear. [inaudible].
Montgomery
Yeah, thank you so much.
Bryant
You’re welcome.
Montgomery
I really, really do appreciate you doing this. So thank you.
Bryant
I appreciate doing this with you and thank you for come—for coming again.
Mikler
Well, the—in the early 19—around the 1900, there was a great immigration to America from Europe [clears throat], and my parents came to—as most Slovak immigrants came—they came into New York Harbor and then went wherever they could.
So they organized—the group organized what they called “the Slavia Colony Company.” And they sent a delegation to Florida—the company did—to find a location for a new settlement. A small group came to Florida and settled here.[1] And they settled here somewhere around 1911, and, um, most of those people were poor folks. They were used to farming, so they had farming on their mind[sic]. They knew how to farm better than most other things, so this is how the colony originated.
Now, the building we’re sitting in right now didn’t look like this then, but the first [St. Luke’s Lutheran] Church was built about 1925. This is it. I—I keeps[sic] coming back to this. You can’t separate our community from the church, ‘cause the church—the Lord was important to all, and—and that was—not that we were saints. We’re sinners like everybody, but the Lord meant something to us, and still does to us today.
The—the first settlers had difficulty finding a crop—a cash crop—that would be a money crop, you see? Uh, they tried different things, but not knowing the weather, soil conditions, and so forth, they made a lot of mistakes. There were disasters, and so it was not until the—I’d say the middle- to late- [19]20s when celery was introduced and celery became the big cop.
And just a case in point: this happened in the 40s. Judge [R. W.] Ware, the County Judge of Seminole County, spoke to the Oviedo PTA [Parent-Teacher Association], and this is some of what he said: he said, “Folks, you know, if—if all Seminole County was like the Oviedo community”—now, we’re talking about Oviedo, Slavia, Chuluota, and Goldenrod, and Wagner, the long—the—he said, “I’d be out of a job.” Now, what’s the moral to that? People did the right thing and crime was insignificant.
Well, believe it or not, when I was a teenager, my cousin had—a few people had automobiles. I remember getting the first [Ford] Model T, and I was about the happiest person in the world, riding on the back of that Model T. That wasn’t riding a wagon. It was different, but then later, as we grew up as teenagers, I remember we’d go and get a car from the [inaudible], and go to town, and park on the street, and watch people walk by. We’d buy us about 10 cents worth of bananas, which is about 15 or 20 pounds, you might say [laughs].
I remember when [Florida State Road] 426 was dirt, and going to Orlando, on a wagon, you got up early in the morning, and it would take all day to get to Orlando and back home before darkness, and that was some—some experience. There were no public restrooms. If you got thirsty, you had to carry your own water. It was just a different world. In fact, I remember between Winter Park and Orlando, there were very few homes. Lake Ivanhoe was a wooded lake. It was just woods there. [inaudible] water in[?] the horse on Lake Ivanhoe.
And some of you may not believe this, but you could go today in [inaudible] grocery store—the big one, you know? And they—the housewife—whoever was shipping—would take the list to the counter, and the storekeeper would take the order. If you wanted five pounds of sugar, he’d go the shelves, get five pounds of sugar, bring it back. “What else? Five cans of beans?” He’d bring that, and so that was sort of different from today, and then when Papa took us once a year to the Slemons [Department Store], the big store on Church Street, right on—off of Orange Avenue. Uh, Papa would tell Mr. [William Melville] Slemons, “Here’s the family. Dress ‘em up.” So we got our new shirts, pants, suit, cap, shoes, and all that, and that was quite an experience. The whole family went shopping. You see that today? I don’t think so.
Unidentified
[laughs].
Mikler
[laughs]. I think the worst influence we ever had in the history of the world is drugs—the cocaine, and this sort of stuff. This—I feel for kids, I feel for parents, ‘cause I know some of the finest people I know have had cases of that, and—and it’s hard—it’s hard—it’s a hard problem to face, but we must face it squarely, and most people in America—early America—immigrants and otherwise—had to do it [inaudible]—do it themselves. The government was not involved in these things. He said they took Bible and prayer out of school, and they gave prostitution, cocaine, and alcohol, and pornography. That’s how he started his sermon. Now, he was on the money, wasn’t he?
Well, one thing I—as a coach, I couldn’t stand—I don’t think I’d allow a player who put a helmet on with hair longer than girl’s hair, but that…
Unidentified
[laughs].
Mikler
I couldn’t stand [laughs]. I couldn’t—I couldn’t stand it. I’m afraid we’re coming to an age, where it’s almost me first. Case in point: when I was teaching, uh, I could ask boys to help move the piano or to help the school do a job, and I’d have volunteers coming. No one asked for any money. It was all voluntarily and they did it with a smile. The later years, it wasn’t so. They said, “Coach, whatcha payin’?” You know, that’s—that’s what we’re into today.
It’s hard to say what’s coming, but I can see a great change between, uh, family and community and state and nation. So the family unit— I’m afraid—and our modern civilization, uh—it’s a different—it’s a more difficult world to live in. The future, I hope will be good, but it just depends on how we are willing to discipline ourselves and—and accept absolutes. It’s easy to do wrong, it’s hard to do right, and we gotta make the choices. We have that choice.
[1] Oviedo, Florida.
Garcia
Today is February 26th, 2014. I am interviewing Frank Boffi, who served in the United States Navy. He served in World War II and ended with a rank of Machinist MAT 1st class. With me is Mark...
Barnes
Mark Barnes.
Garcia
Mark Barnes. We are interviewing Mr. Boffi as part of the University of Central Florida Community Veterans History Project and as research for the creation of a Lone Sailor Memorial Project. We are recording this interview at UCF in Orlando, Florida. Mr. Boffi, will you please start by—start us off by telling us when and where you were born?
Boffi
Cranston, Rhode Island, which is about nine miles north of, uh Downtown Providence[, Rhode Island]. I was born May 18th, 1922, and I’m the, uh, youngest of seven boys. We were a family of 10 children. Raised during the Great Depression which is—was hell on life—on Earth, really. So we had to get adjusted to that— not having anything.
I’ve been lecturing five high schools here locally about World War II and the kids don’t believe that, during the Depression, we had no allowance, we had nothing, and, uh—but anyway, I survived the Depression. I survived three battles in the Pacif—the, uh, Mediterranean [Sea], and the one battle in the Pacific [Theater]. So I consider myself a survivor.
Garcia
What did your parents do for a living?
Boffi
They were, uh, country folks. My dad worked—was a laborer, because in Italy they lived out on farms, and came over here had really no skills. and, um, he worked for—under the WPA systems, which was the Works Progress Administration—back in the [19]30s, uh, one of the programs set by President [Franklin Delano] Roosevelt. So he was just a, uh, shovel—a reg[?] guy. He was working on the roads and the parks and stuff that the city was rocking[?] for him. That sort of thing.
Garcia
And when did you, uh, enter the Navy?
Boffi
I, uh, entered—first of all, I think it’s important to hear that we[1] got engaged December 6th, 1941, which was the night before the Pearl Harbor attack. And, um, it’s so strange: these high schools that I’ve been lecturing—that’s the one thing those kids remember when I go back the next year after that. Yeah. I ask what they remember about World War II and they all say the same thing, “You and your wife got engaged the night before Pearl Harbor.”
We got—I got married at, uh, 20 years old—August 1st, 1942. And on September 15th, 1942, I went down and enlisted in the Navy, because I did not want to be drafted into the Army. I was told that the Navy, you had three square a day and clean bedding, as long as you washed it. But the Army guys had to sleep in mud and foxholes and I didn’t want that kind of stuff.
But, um, yeah. We were—I—my wife and I were married 71 years this past August 1st, and then she died October 7th, [inaudible] 2014. But, uh, it was a tough life, but we hacked it through[?]. It was just two young kids. She was 22 and I was 20, but we made it and it was a real sacrifice. We only had the one son who has—now has two children and six great, uh—six grandchildren. I have six great-grandchildren.
My son is a graduate of the University of Nebraska, where he has a master’s [degree] out of the university. Um, He started in engineering, but he changed it over to psychology. And I asked him why he changed his major[?] over the subject—his degree in, and he said one of his friends dove out of the six—I think he said it was a six-story window. And He was on LSD [lysergic acid diethylamide] and he just dove out the window. And that was when my son decided to change his career and help the kids that were—that were on drugs. He was—he wound up being an administrator of six counties in east Nebraska—in charge of the drug program. But Now he’s a—he was a regional manager for Xerox [Corporation], and they moved him to Washington, D.C. area. And now he’s, uh—has his own business—he and his wife—as general resources. Um, he’s chief operating officer for AmeriCom. It’s a company that deals with the government, and their biggest account is the Air Force. And he is in, uh, San Antonio[, Texas] about every four or five weeks, because we have bases there. What else you want?
Garcia
Now, uh, you said you were—got engaged the day before Pearl Harbor. What was your reaction to the attack on Pearl Harbor?
Boffi
It was kind of a shock, but We, uh, I think we were prepared for it. The—the way things were going, we knew that some war was going to come out of it. It was so strange: in Downtown Providence—I’m not sure if you’re familiar with it—they had docks there. And, uh, my buddy and I—we used to go down there. we used to walk to Providence maybe two days a week, and there were all these old rust buckets loading up with all the, um, scrap iron, and we sold millions and millions of tons of scrap iron to Japan. And then—then four or five months, the war broke out, they were firing it right back at us.
Garcia
Why did you join the Navy?
Boffi
Like I told you, I didn’t like—I didn’t like being in a foxhole, and I didn’t want to join the Army. I had one brother in the Army and two—the one in the Navy, he joined long after I did. But, uh, my other two brothers were [Boeing] B17 [Flying Fortress] bombers.
And, uh, I—I just liked the water. I thought I would be better off in the Navy. Might as well do something I like, than[?] rather[?]—I had to go no matter what. I didn’t want to be drafted in the Army.
Garcia
Where did you attend boot camp?
Boffi
I, uh, went to boot camp in Newport, Rhode Island. I reported there October 15th, 1942 and got in out March 1943. And they sent me to [inaudible] Institute in Boston[, Massachusetts], which is an engineering school. And I came out of there with a, uh—with a second class machinist MAT training.
It was so strange that, in those days, uh—that—that the commander of the school posted a notice one day saying anybody in the top five percentile for academics would be allowed the privilege of applying for Officer’s[sic] Candidate School. So I applied for it, and that’s all it says. And I walked up, and commander Cavinar[sp] was sitting at his desk, and I came in the door about that distance away, and he kind of looked up and says, “Frank, you don’t qualify.” I said, “But I’m in the top three percentile academically.” He said, “Yeah. Academically you can qualify, but you’re married.” They would not give you a rate[?] then—a commission [inaudible]. You had to be married first though—no. You—you couldn’t get married until after you got your commission. that’s what it was. So they refused to give me a commission.
And, uh, then later on when I worked[?] the ship got sunk, I was supposed to make chief June 1st, 1945. And we got sunk on the 11th of May of 1945. That’s when I wound up in a hospital bed for the next four and a half months. So they wouldn’t give me the chief’s rating, because you had to be with an active unit.
Now, today even, if you lost both legs, you’re still in the military, you get your rating or whatever. So, um, when they held its 90th birthday, the chiefs down here at NAWC [Naval Air Warfare Center] made me an honorary, um, chief with them. So I have a [U.S.] DOD [Department of Defense] certificate stating that I’m part of the chiefs’ at NAWCTSD in Orlando. They—they kind of glorified it and they gave me the rate. I asked them about it—OCS [Officer Candidate School] now, but they wouldn’t allow me [clears throat].
Garcia
What was, uh, your first days of your service like?
Boffi
Pardon?
Garcia
What was the first day of your service like? First days.
Boffi
Well, the—the first couple of days were interesting, because we had some boys from the Midwest area[?] they were Arkansans. We had to sleep on hammocks. In those days, in boot camp. And the hammock was strung up to the ceiling and you had what you called the” jack stand.” That’s a bar, and you would jump up and grab it and you’d pull your body up. And if you knew how to do it, you would open your hammock line with one leg and then pop your butt in and then—otherwise, you would just roll off the other side. and that’s what was happening to this one boy from Arkansas. He couldn’t—he’d get in one side and roll out the other one. He couldn’t get himself—so one night, the chief told a couple of us to “Go help that kid get in that hammock.” And, Uh, We raised the sides up, but in the morning he tried to get out and he’d fall out all the time. He was a character. He never did adjust to a hammock. We kept our hammocks as part of our sea bag. And I’ve used it two or three times at sea out here in the Atlantic [Ocean]. When we had a hurricane or real bad weather, the ship would go rocking and rolling too much. My buddy and I would go out and string up our hammock underneath the gun tug, where it would be dry, and sleep in the hammocks. We just—like a baby rocking in a crib.
But, um, yeah. The first ship was on was a 1918—it was commissioned in 1918—a World War I destroyer. It was an old four stacker, and we called them “rust buckets.” But Then [clears throat]—and we made the three invasions of, um, [inaudible] Sicily, Salerno, Italy, and, um—what was the last one? One of the—one—I forget the name of that one. Oh, [inaudible]. My memory is failing me, but we made the two—three invasions in Sa—Sicily, Anzio Beach, Salerno—Anzio Beach. That’s what it is. Anzio Beach, Salerno, and, um, you know, Sicily.
We operated out of Oran[, Algeria], North Africa. That was kind of a[sic], uh, interesting—now that we have so much Muslim, uh, religion spreading out all over the world. There was a place in Oran that was called Medina. It was a, uh, sacred city with great big columns and you were not allowed in there unless you were a, um, Muslim religion[sic]. And my buddy and I didn’t believe it, so we started in there one day, and we get about three feet through the gates, all these Arabs started getting up from sitting on the sidewalk. And, um, we were lucky. I think I—I’m alive today, because the shore patrol was right there. They drive their Jeep in about three feet into the Medina, and told us to get in and they brought us back [inaudible].
And they told us that one of my friends, uh, Bill Suey[sp], came from Cranston, Rhode Island—.he and I went through school together. He went through Medina one night and came back in just his underwear—just his skivvies. He was lucky he got his life, but they took everything he had—his uniform, cigarettes, and—and they stripped him. They didn’t want us there. Basically, that’s what it was. We were invading their country and—and they—they didn’t realize that we were there protecting them from the Germans. I mean, they were losing their country to the Germans till we got there. And, um, so we saved them, but they’re still Muslim and that scares me till today—what’s happening in some of these cities. [clears throat] It’s a damn shame that we have to go through stuff, but I see it happening right now.
Garcia
Now, uh, as an Italian [American], how did it feel invading Italy?
Boffi
How did I feel being in Italy?
Garcia
Yeah.
Boffi
It was, uh, a good feeling. Because I was—my mom and my eldest brother came over in 1904. And this was 19—well, I didn’t get there until during the war, but I stayed in the Navy and I went back in 1950 with the ship I was on. And I got to meet my, uh, dad’s two brothers, and my cousins, and my mom’s half-sister.
And her—this one half-sister has three—three daughters. And they came to my uncle’s house and the eldest—eldest daughter was, um, just—just under 18. She was a senior in—in high school—equivalent to our schedule setup. And, um, she was so excited that I was talking to an Italian in English and all that. And she kept patting my knee, and the moms kept telling them, “Don’t touch him. he’s an American sailor.” She said, “But he’s my cousin.” She said, “I don’t care if he’s your brother. Don’t lo—don’t touch him. He’s an American sailor.” But that was the kind of reputation we had all over the world. The—the sailors were people [coughs] [clears throat].
And I had one other cousin, who had a close friend of his who was a [Papal] Swiss Guard in the Vatican. So I got to, uh, go places in the Vatican that the general public had never been to. And we got way down deep into the catacombs,[2] where they used to bury all the priests and the bishops and whatever. There—it was kind of an eerie feeling being down there with all these caskets on both sides. And these guys didn’t realize that they’ve been buried there for a hundred years or longer. That was something that the general public never saw, but I got to see it because of my cousin’s—Tom’s—friend was a Swiss Guard. He allowed me to go down there [clears throat].
Garcia
Now what—what was…
Boffi
[clears throat].
Garcia
What your experience during the actual battles?
Boffi
What was what?
Garcia
What your experience during the actual battles themselves?
Boffi
Well, um, uh, the, uh—at the Anzio Beach location, I was on deck and that was a, uh, a 50 millimeter—50 caliber machine gun. And that really was the only action I’ve ever—I’ve ever seen. Because, um, normally, I would be engine room. You would not see any action. And, uh, It’s so strange that now I—you know, there were three destroyers in our squadron. We were all—we were all World War I destroyers. And they, uh, used us as decoys. The American government had no, um, um, information as to where the gun emplacements were. So they—the three destroyers were supposed to go in, approach the beach with all their lights out [inaudible]. And at midnight, put on our search light. We had a great big, regular search light they use at airports. And, uh, there was total darkness. I couldn’t see you guys as dark as it was. And all of a sudden, at midnight, when we put our search lights on, all hell—the beach just broke all out, and I jumped.
And I found out later that that was a trigger, because I was subject to that for a long, long time. I mean, if we walked—if I walked in this room and someone tried to put the—somebody put the light on, I would react to it. And Now I—I found out that eventually, training with the VA [Veterans Administration] and, um—my son, um, met the woman who was the CO of the Purple Heart Association.[3] And she sent me a book, and then I read that—Tears of a Warrior[: A Family's Story of Combat and Living with PTSD] it’s called. I found out that that was only a “trigger,” that they called them. And so I finally got myself to overcome that, and it doesn’t bother me anymore now, but Going into this totally dark room and somebody put the light on. But—and I do it every night when I go home. It’s be totally dark in the house and I flip my own light on, but I don’t react to it anymore like I used to. ‘Cause I suddenly realized that it was just something that was back here and I had to weed it out of my system.
But, uh, normally, I saw no action on my—the—on the [USS Hugh W.] Hadley. I didn’t see any action, until we got, uh, blown out of the engine room—came topside. And to this day, I don’t remember seeing any action then. And I found out from Captain [Doug] Aiken, who’s retired—he was a lieutenant on the Hadley. I asked him how long we were—were in the water, and he said about two and a half hours before we were picked up. And I’ve got—if you want me to email you, I’ve got the picture of that, uh—the ship picking up the survivors and I’ve got the DVD that I can send you and incorporate it with part[?] of yours. It shows a Kamikaze hitting the water and showed the—the bomb going off—something like that. I can get you a copy of those if you—if you wish. They’re not copyrighted at all, so you’re welcome to do with it what—whatever you want with ‘em [clears throat].
Garcia
And so you—you said you were—you were sent in as a decoy. Once—once, like, you complete your mission, did they figure out where the emplacements were and then did you guys leave after that?
Boffi
Well, we didn’t really leave the battle area. We went out on, uh, screening. They called it “screening.” You had two or three destroyers. Well, that day, there were like 15 destroyers out there. And just—you stayed off the beach about three or four miles and tried to shoot down the planes that were coming in to attack our troops. And they were coming in to hit our supply ships [inaudible]. So we were on—on the screening most of the time, at the—Of course, I wasn’t there, but the ship was. I was in the hospital. That was—let’s see—May, June—two and a half months in the, uh, ten city hospital. We called it “ten city” in Tinian Island, which is part of the Marianas.[4]
And, uh, In July of ’45, they sent me to a naval receiving hospital in San Francisco, California. stayed there a couple of weeks, and from there, they sent me to a psychiatric hospital up in Coeur d’Alene, Idaho, because I was getting a severe—I mean, real bad headaches. It was the back of my head and they thought I was going crazy, I guess. It was just blast concussion. It finally settled down. And after about six—I think six or eight weeks in Coeur d’Alene, I was transferred on down to Sun Valley, Idaho, in which there was a naval recuperation hospital. And then, in October of ’45, they transferred me to Fort Lewis, Washington. And, um, from there, to Boston to be discharged in November of 1945 [clears throat].
Garcia
Alright. And, um,what—when, uh—you said that you were on, um—what was the name of the first ship you were on?
Boffi
The USS Bernadou, B-E-R-N-A-D-O-U.
Garcia
And, um, how did you, like—and then you transferred to the Hadley?
Boffi
No. They sent me to school for—the Hadley was so called “new construction.” It was a, uh, bigger class destroyer, and it was higher pressure. We operated at 600 pounds of pressure steam on the Hadley, and the Bernadou was only 250. So I went to North Virginia to school for 12 weeks.
And then I went out to, um, San Pedro, California, and I was part of the 14 people that was the skeleton crew to watch the ship being built. That was quite interesting. And, you know, we saw them lay the keel hull in the dry dock. And we—we had to be in the dry dock every morning at eight o’ clock. That’s where they held quarters. And we literally watched the ship being built. Every—every bit of welding they did, we were there. There were 14 of us: one officer, and, uh, I think two chiefs, myself, another 1st class in engineering, and there, um—some other guys from other rates I don’t know—the yeoman[?] and [inaudible]. But, um—so I was on it when it went into the water in October of 1945—I mean ’44 — and we were sunk May of 1945. so it didn’t last very long.
Garcia
That was…
Boffi
[clears throat].
Garcia
That was during the Invasion of Okinawa[, Japan]?[5]
Boffi
Yes.
Garcia
And what—what was your experience in that battle?
Boffi
My experience? Well, I didn’t see any action, because I was down in the engine room all the time.
Garcia
When you were in the engine room, what—like, what was your job, per se?
Boffi
Well, to keep the ship moving. We had to keep the engines running, and, um— because if you lose your engines, then you are a dead, still target. Then they just blow you out of the water. So, uh—as a matter of fact, Marc [Ennis] is in simulation, and we had no simulators in those days. And I was—I had my pump man and my messenger blindfolded when they were on the lower level, where all the pumps are. And they had the second level was the operating deck—the control deck.
And I had them blindfolded, and the Chief Engineer comes down and he says, “Boffi, we don’t have any time for this blind man’s bluff games and stuff like that.” I said, “We’re not playing games, sir. I’m teaching these guys to know the engine room blindfolded.” That’s the first thing you lose on any situation is power. I mean, right now, if the power went off, we would be in a darkened room. So I said,” I’m trying teach them how to get out of there—this engine room.” And to this day, I think we all come[?]—[Don] Hackler, my master, was the last one to leave the engine room. We seemed to think he slipped down the ladder. he didn’t make it. Speedo, my bunkman, and myself got out. And that was the— Speedo got out first, and then I was second, and Hackler was—and he was only 17 years old. He had been in the Navy like 81 days. At the end of the war, they were taking real young kids in, with hardly any training at all. And, uh, Don Hackler—I think it was his name—and he was the only one that didn’t survive the—in that engine room. We lost, uh, everybody in the forward fire room, plus there were other people on deck. I think there were about 18 casualties that—fatalities that morning of the attack [clears throat].
Garcia
Uh,Going back a little bit, what—what was…
Boffi
[coughs].
Garcia
Saily life like on the Navy vessel?
Boffi
A normal day?
Garcia
Mmhmm.
Boffi
Normally, you get up at about five—normally, you get up about 5:30 for regular crew. But in engineering, you’re—you’re on four hours and off eight. So we would be getting up at like 3:15 in the morning for the four to eight watch. And, uh, for the midnight watch, you got on—you had to be up by quarter to 12, and that ran to—to quarter to four, and that ran to quarter to eight. And, um, once you got in the engine room though, there was no—I didn’t do much. I just sat there, che—checked the other guys, and did some checking of equipment, and stuff like that. But—mostly management. I didn’t really do anything. There was nothing you could do. Just be ready to—if you did take a hit, be ready, you know, do—to you could react. Do what you had to do.
Garcia
And you told us about…
Boffi
[coughs].
Garcia
Some of the, uh, recreational things you did while you were in Italy and Africa. Were there anything in the Pacific—any areas In the Pacific that you got to experience in the Pacific?
Boffi
No. I never got off the ship. We never had any liberty and such. So I know noth—nothing about the Pacific Ocean, other—other than being aboard a ship. We did hit Pearl Harbor[, Hawaii] before—on the way up there—that area. We had about three days in Pearl Harbor. and that was my only experience in Hawaii for a long time. But, uh, you know, you pull into a Navy base and you really have nothing to do. most of them are kind of isolated away from the normal public. We didn’t have the, uh—the glory of—the liberty, so to speak. We got four hours off. Didn’t have enough time to run into town, grab a couple of beers, hopefully get lucky and get a woman, and back to the ship [laughs].
Garcia
[laughs]. And, um…
Boffi
[coughs].
Garcia
What—What was it like when you left the Navy—like, coming home?
Boffi
Well, I—I went to work for the power company. I—I wanted to—see, I used to work in jewelry—jewelry manufacturing, when I was in high school. After I got out of high school, and I told my wife—said, “I’m—I’m going to go into something that was going to be a career, like…” So I—I went to the power company, and after I got into trouble with that union, they run me off.
So I got an insurance job as an engineer. And I inspected elevators and boilers, held safety meetings. Then I, um—April 1st, 1970, when the OSHA [Occupational Safety and Health Act] law came into being, it was signed by the President[6] as the—a law of the land. And I went to, uh, what is now the University of Southern Florida[7] and took a two day exam—two eight hour exams—for, uh, my—they call it Certi—CSP—Certified Safety Professional. And, um, I passed that, so they gave me the designation. That’s what I was when I retired—a Certified Safety Professional.
When I was, uh, working for the insurance company, I—I did the service for a lot of power utilities and inspected elevators in a lot of buildings. My territory included Puerto Rico, the [U.S.] Virgin Islands, and [the] Bahamas. It was a tough territory to—to take care of. And, Uh, Every other month, my wife would go with me and go on the beach, where we would get the hotel in San Juan[, Puerto Rico]. I’d go do my job, and then we would fly over to Saint Thomas[, U.S. Virgin Islands] and Saint Croix[, U.S. Virgin Islands]. I—I really enjoyed it. I—I—I did 50 years in the insurance industry. The, um—I retired March 1st of ’84, and then I re—they called me back. And then I retired again in—in 2001, I think it was. In 2006, they forced me to retire. They said I was too old at 84 years old to be inspecting boilers and elevators and all that kind of stuff, so I finally decided [inaudible].
Garcia
And, Um, Were you awarded any medals or citations? [inaudible]…
Boffi
I have a Purple Heart for my injuries, and I’ve got, uh, three battle stars for the Mediterranean, three warzones, and three battles. And I’ve got, um, one battle for the, uh, Pacific. Other than that, uh, no high rating. Um, medals or anything.
Garcia
Um,What values or characteristics of the Navy do you believe made an impression on—on your life?
Boffi
I think the camaraderie. There’s something about the Navy that the Army and the Marines never had. Uh, Like Mark, anybody would do anything for anyone else, if they were Navy. And I’m not sure that was true in the Army or the Marine Corps. My son became a Marine. He was in, uh, six years during the Vietnam [War] era. And, uh, I didn’t notice the camaraderie with them as I did in the Navy. And to this day, like I said, I go to NAWC every single day. They say I’m there more than people who get paid to be there. They don’t even show up and I’m there every morning.
Garcia
And What was the most valuable lesson that you learned during your time?
Boffi
I’m sorry?
Garcia
What was the most valuable lesson you learned during your time in the Navy?
Boffi
Well, I think that you treat everybody that you would want to be treated, for one thing. The only thing that used to really bother me and still does to this day is these ethnic groups that come [inaudible]—the— immigrants—they come over here and they want us to change to be whatever they are, you know? The Hispanics or Chinese or—I mean, when you come over here, be an American. I can still hear my dad when I was a youngster, he kept saying this great…
Boffi
And he, uh—to this day, I have arguments with some of these people. I am not an Italian. I’m of Italian heritage, but I was born in this country and I’m an American. I fought in several wars—battles—for the Americans. And I’d—I’d do it again if I had to, if that were necessary [clears throat].
Garcia
And What do you think former Navy personnel would like to see or be reminded of when they visit—revisit the site of the base[8] and the Lone Sailor Project Memorial?
Boffi
What do I think of the—I think it’s going to bring back a lot of memories of a lot of people. I—I just—befriended—well, ,I’ve been friends with him for about a year and a half at the Moose Club. I didn’t know he was a photographer in the Army. And then, when he go out of the Army, he took all the photographs to the Navy base, where Mark graduated from, and he took all the shots over the Cape [Canaveral]. He went for the Cape. So, uh, that was kind of interesting.
He’s telling—he was telling Mark and myself about, um, incidents that had happened there before. And, uh, he’s going to be one of our guests at the next Navy League luncheon, I think. He can tell us some of the things that are interesting. Me[sic] and Mark were talking about those days.
I had no idea that there was a boot camp here. I lived up in, um, Miami since ’66, and never had an idea that there was a boot camp in Florida. So That was kind of a shock to me that I got up here and found out there was a boot camp there. I probably would have come up every weekend and go there and visit. I—I would have befriended—I would have taken the, uh, transfer—my company travels insurance wanted transferred me up here in, uh, ’69, I think it was. and I refused it. I wanted to stay around the Miami area, but, uh, if I would have known there was a boot camp up there in the Navy, um, influence, I think I would have—would have transferred.
Garcia
Is there anything else you would like to share about your Navy experience?
Boffi
It’s really helped me a lot, both psychologically and physically. I see they treat people here at NAWC. They really respect me. They show me a lot of respect. They all treat me as though I’m family. Officers, business people, and whatever. I’m just part of their big family and I enjoy it. That’s why I go every day.
Garcia
Thank you, Mr. Boffi.
Boffi
Thank you very much, and good luck in your ventures.
Barnes
Today is Tuesday, May 6th, 2014. I'm interviewing Jeff[rey Edward] Clark, who served in the United States Navy. My name is Mark Barnes, and with me working the camera is Kendra Hazen. We're interviewing Mr. Clark as part of the UCF [University of Central Florida] Community Veterans History Project, and as research for the creation of the educational wall for the Lone Sailor Memorial [Project]. We are conducting this interview in Maitland, Florida.
Mr. Clark, will you please just begin by telling us your name, where you were born—where and when you were born?
Clark
Sure. my name is Jeffrey Clark, and I am originally from East Hartford, Connecticut. I was born in Hartford, Connecticut, on January 31st, 1968. And in 1983, my family moved to Florida—to Flagler County in Palm Coast, where I attended Flagler Palm Coast High School.
And then I did drop out of high school at the age of 17, and joined the Navy shortly after my 17th birthday, where I went through the Orlando Naval Training Center here.[1] Upon completion of my active duty, I returned to—I did obtain my GED (General Educational Development) while I was in the Navy. And then upon completion of my active duty, I did graduate from DBCC—Daytona Beach Community College—and then transferred and graduated at UCF. Major in economics and a minor in political science.
Barnes
Do you have any brother or sisters or parents you want to tell us about?
Clark
Sure. I have two sisters and both of them still reside here in Flagler County in Florida. And then my parents are still alive and live in Flagler County as well. My father—I come from a military family. sort of on the—Forrest Gump movie, I believe, where Lieutenant Dan has an ancestor that had fought in every major American war back to the colonial period. And I have that same line or lineage as well. Goes back to the Mayflower on my father's side.
My father served in the Navy and went through Bainbridge, Maryland, for his boot camp, and then was aboard an aircraft carrier—the USS Chiwawa CV40. And my grandfather—his father—served in World War II. Uh, he was in the Army and was stationed in the Philippines.
And then on my mother's side—my mother is also from—both my father and my mother are from Connecticut, as well. And my mother's side of the family—they were Italian immigrants. my grandfather immigrated in the 19—well, both my grandparents immigrated from Italy to the U.S. in the 1920s. And then when they were younger, obviously—and my mother was born in 1945 and my father was born in 1939.
Barnes
And did you join the Navy for any particular reason?
Clark
Actually, that was a bit of an interesting story. Now, one time, when I was around eight or nine years old, I filled out this application to inquire about the Navy out of a magazine or something like that. And, obviously, you could tell that a child wrote it. Well my father took it as a joke and mailed it in, and I always wanted to join the Navy for—I don't know, because I enjoyed history and my father was in the Navy. So my father mailed this application form in to send information about joining the Navy, and I received this letter from a captain in the Navy that said, you know, “Sorry,” you know, “but you're too young.” And he gave me a couple posters and some other items to say, “Here's some stuff to help you keep thinking Navy, and when you're old enough,” you know, “please come back." Well, pretty much came back at the minimum age possible, and I always wanted to join the Navy when I was a child. I think it was that TV commercial—“It's not just a job. it's an adventure.”
Barnes
So was the Navy a must for you?
Clark
Pretty much. yeah. [air conditioning unit comes on]
Barnes
So you said you attended boot camp in Orlando?
Clark
In Orlando, at the Naval Training Center.
Barnes
And was that by choice, or did they just tell you where to go?
Clark
Um, I would like to think it was by choice, because when I joined in this February—and having lived in Florida and being accustomed to the warm weather—I told the recruiter that I would go into the Navy now, if I could go to Orlando or San Diego, and not Great Lakes. Because there were three facilities for boot camp in the Navy—Great Lakes, San Diego, and Orlando, at that time. And I remember my father was very anxious. He said, “Well, you're going to go in now,” you know, “take him.” But somehow—luck, I would presume—I went through Orlando.
Barnes
We'll come back to this, but what were you trained to do for the Navy? What was your job? Or your jobs?
Clark
Initially, when I went in, I was a basic seaman recruit to do basic shipboard tasks, such as, you know, chipping paint and painting. and in the boats and bay field, sort of basic deck board duties. However, during the course of the time, I did become a signalman, which was communications and navigation, primarily with Morse code, with flashing lights—semaphore, as well.
Barnes
Semaphore?
Clark
In the flags. And that “A” school by the way. If I had entered the Navy as a signalman instead of a basic seaman recruit, the training for the Signalman School was here in Orlando, as well, at the Naval Training Center.
Barnes
We're going to circle back through your life as a recruit, and then we'll circle back through your life as a sailor. So when you first got to—your first day off the bus, so to speak, you know, what were some of the biggest adjustments you had to make going through?
Clark
Alright. I'm going to take a step back from the bus over to the Orlando Naval Training Center, since we're in the state of Florida. I'll keep us in the state of Florida. So, when you enter the military, you go to your recruiting office and you complete all that, and they, I presume, do the background checks—similar—probably similar to any new employment process, if you're hiring somebody.
So one of the key things after you go through that, you have to go through what they call the “MEPs center”—Military Entrance Processing facility—and that was in Jacksonville. And up there you get an initial physical, and they determine if you're—kind of the final step—if you're worthy enough to go on active duty. So I went through that in Jacksonville, and I remember going through there and, for some reason, I had thought that I was not going to enter the Navy until the summertime. And this one naval chief overheard me say that, and he said, “What did you say?” And I said, “I’m not going on active duty until the summer.” I say, “I get to go home, you know, after I go through the MEPS process today.” and he said, “Oh, no you’re not. You’re going in tomorrow morning, and I’m going to personally see to it.” I guess I was talking out of line.
So anyways[sic], we rode a bus from Jacksonville—and I remember I had to call my parents and say, “I’m not coming home.” [laughs] It was kind of sudden and quick. So we rode a bus from Jacksonville. and of course, we didn’t even take [Interstate] 95 and [Interstate] 4. It was like going on a Greyhound. I think it took about five hours to get there, because, you know, we went down, you know, [U.S. Route] 17, and then through Palatka, and all the back roads through there to get to Orlando. So we made it there, and they drop us off at the bus—at the bus area.
And then you kind of get indoctrinated where you come in and you start to, initially—so the initial shock was like, “Wow. this is for real.” But you still had your civilian clothes and you still had your hair. And so—and then that way you—you got your assignment, you know, where your—what your company you're going to be, what building at the Orlando Naval Training Center would be your home for the course of boot camp. And then the next day was kind of, you know—the first couple days were kind of intrigue, you know—kind of getting indoctrinated. And you go through a health screen, you go through and get your hair cut, and your clothes and all that assigned, then you begin your boot camp.
Barnes
Do you have anything that stands out from your time?
Clark
Oh yes. Yeah. definitely. So, for example—and at this time I obviously had more hair than I do now—but I was very proud of my hair. You know, “pretty boys,” as they would say in the Navy. and when I got my head shaved, I didn't look at myself in a mirror for about five or six weeks. I remember I would feel it and be like, Oh. And luckily they didn't have mirrors or anything in the boot camp berthing area—you know, the living area. So I made a purpose not to look at myself. That was the biggest, biggest shock.
The other shock that I had was I was going to have to learn how to fold clothes, because—kind of like out of a movie, where, you know, my mommy is able to wash, fold, and put my clothes away for me. But that changed, and I had to learn how to fold clothes.
But I was a baseball player in high school and very physically active, so the physical nature of boot camp that everybody thinks about—the physical activity was really not an issue for me. I was already in pretty good shape from playing baseball and other physical activities.
Clark
Do you have any memories from when you graduated? Did your folks come down?
Barnes
Yes. As part of the process, there was a graduation ceremony. And, like, my family, including my father's parents—my grandparents—came down and they went to the graduation ceremony, and they were able to get a tour of the facility. And it’s like a parade ground, and they set up these bench area bleachers. and the families were able to watch us do our Pass and Review and hear the speeches from the—from Captain Nice, who was the Recruit Training Center commanding officer and NCS (National Call to Service) conductor of ceremony. Then afterwards, everybody went home.
But, you know, we were able to meet up and, you know, it was good for my family to be there to see that. And that was, you know, an equivalent of like a high school graduation. I would say very similar, but you know dressed in military and military ceremony.
Barnes
When you graduated from boot camp, what was your next assignment?
Clark
Sure. upon graduating boot camp—boot camp lasted about eight and a half weeks. I actually entered active duty on February 26th, 1985, and then boot camp officially started March 1st. And, as I mentioned, those first couple of days were, you know, getting your hair cut, and getting your clothes, and getting indoctrinated.
And then when I graduated, I started—I continued at the Orlando Naval Training Center. They did have additional training schools there. The one I went to is—when I entered the Navy, I entered the Apprenticeship Training Program. and that was open to individuals who wanted to focus on more of a general—kind of like a liberal arts, if you want to call it that—to compare it to college. So there was a Seaman Apprenticeship, a Firemen Apprenticeship, and an Air Apprenticeship.
And then once you completed that training, then you would get assigned to a permanent duty station. So seamen went in to, you know—were eligible and did a cross-range of duties, such as, in the boatmen mate field, which is the deck duty. And then airmen, you know, went and supported, you know, aircraft either on carriers or as part of a detachment. And firemen kind of could go on ships, because they were the ones who worked down in what we called “the pit”—the boiler room and the engine rooms where the boiler technician rates and the machinist mates ran that. So I went through the Seaman Apprenticeship Training program.
Barnes
Were there certain classes you had to take, or do you know about the classes from the various—from the three places you just—the three schools you just described?
Clark
Yes. So basically how the Orlando Naval Training Center was set up is you kind of had—there were—if I remember—I think there were 10 buildings—10 or 12 buildings. And it was set up very, you know, military-style. On one end, you had sort of—and they were called—I forget what they were called. But there's like Building One, Building Two, etc. So on each end was kind of like the administrative offices, and then in between and in sequential order on each side, I think there was[sic] 12. There was[sic] 2 on the end, and five this way and five that way. And then on one side—and, in the middle, there was a divider, like a road that went through the middle. And on one side was strictly where boot camp was conducted. and on the other side is where the schools were conducted. They were the living quarters basically, or “berthing areas,” as they’re called in the Navy.
And so I went through the Seaman Apprenticeship Training. It was a series of classroom training and on-the-job training. They did the USS Blue Jacket, which was there—which was a training, you know—simulation of a ship and so we would go perform for seamen apprenticeship training. You know, how to tie knots, how to tie up the ship, how to raise flags, and other things associated with the Seamen Apprenticeship. And then the fireman did similar things, where, you know, they went in and simulated what jobs they would do once they went to the fleet. And that apprenticeship training was approximately four weeks for that.
Barnes
How would you describe the relationship between your instructors on that side versus your instructors on...
Clark
Sure.
Barnes
The recruit side?
Clark
On the recruit side, the boot camp, you know, was very strict. Very boot camp. very structured. You know, very military. You know, “controlling” is—I guess, would be a way to describe it. You know, your day was fully planned. You, you know—we woke up at four A.M. We went, you know—we did some initial drills and then we have our set breakfast time. You know, Company 101’s breakfast was from say 5:00 to 5:30.
You came back, you washed up, you know, brushed your teeth—whatever. Then you had set criteria of everyday what you would do. And most of it was practicing marching for your graduation ceremony, as well as other, you know, stuff that was boot camp related. You know, physical activity, swimming, firefighting drills that everybody needs to know for the military, and other basic stuff.
Now this was a little bit more specialized, and it was, like I said, classroom and on-the-job training. I would say that there was a bit more freedom. It was like a 9-to-5 job. You know, you woke up, you started class at eight o'clock, you had lunch from 12 to 1, and you were free to go do what you want.
In addition, I guess the big thing was—you were free on the weekends to go do whatever you wanted. Whereas in boot camp, you know, you were in boot camp and you were not allowed to leave. The only time that we left boot camp was after six weeks, we were granted what they called a “restricted liberty,” where it was kind of like an elementary school field trip. You know, like SeaWorld or [Walt] Disney [World], or somewhere like that. And it was very restricted. And, you know, it was covered.
And then you had an unrestricted liberty, like the week before you graduated, and that’s where you could stay within the city of Orlando, and kind of go anywhere you want and you had to be back at a certain time. And I guess a story for this would be—everybody—all the instructors and the officers—would say South OBT [Orange Blossom Trail] is off limits, because it’s kind of a dodgy area. But of course, where does everybody go? South OBT.[2] So that’s pretty much where unrestricted liberty went.
And then, like I said, during the apprenticeship training you were free to do[sic] on the weekend. and then I used to go home, you know. My mother would come pick me up or my father would come pick me up, and I’d visit my friends on the weekend, and then I had to be back Monday morning by eight o’clock to go to class. So it didn’t really matter, but I’d usually come back Sunday night, because we were still living in our living quarters. I guess the way I’d compare, you know, is boot camp was kind of like, you know, elementary school and high school. Very structured, very strict, limited. And apprenticeship training was more like college, where, “Hey, this is what you got to do,” you know, “Here's your times. the rest of that’s up to you.”
Barnes
Now you had—when you said you were living there, did you guys have apartments almost when you were an apprentice?
Clark
No. It was very—it was the same as what we had in boot camp. You know, the same structure. So basically it was an open area, like a barracks, and it was for enlisted. Now, officers tended to have the equivalent of more like the hotel or a small apartment, and they would usually share that with one other officer, depending on their rank. But general enlisted—and this even continued into the Navy with various living quarters on ships—whether you were enlisted or if you were chief, which was a senior enlisted person—kind of like middle management. Where if you were an officer, different living quarters. So it was an open area, and it had bunk beds and lockers for you to store your stuff. It was the same as in boot camp.
Barnes
Now, outside of the schools—the training schools—the command schools that you went to—do you have any recollection of the other schools that maybe were offered at the base?
Clark
Um, yes. from what I recall, because, as I went—during my time in the Navy, I went on, and—they call it “striking out”—I don't know why they call it that, because it’s actually a win ,you know—but basically, you get to move on from sort of a general, seaman apprenticeship-type role to a more specialized one. And I became a signalman, which was the shipboard flags communications and navigation, as well as communications with flashing lights via Morse code and semaphore. And the Signalman School was here in Orlando.
And also—and then—so basically the school structure was as follows. You had the generalists, the Apprenticeship Training Program that I talked about that I went through. Then you had “A” schools, which was[sic] schools that were for a specific job in the Navy, whether you were a storekeeper, a signalman, or, you know, something like that. Then there were also “C” schools, and “C” schools were for very specialized skills which normally required and extended enlistment period, such as six years active duty.
And so, during that time, people were kind of classified based on what their enlistment was that they signed up for. There were the 3-by-6s, which meant you were three years active and then six years of inactive reserves. Or IRR, right—“Inactive Readiness Reserves” I believe is the military term. There were 4-by-4s—and I was a 4-by-4—which meant four years active, four years inactive. And then there were the 6-by-2s, which were the specialty folks who went to extended training. They were six years active and then two years inactive reserves. Unless, of course, if they re-enlisted on active duty, then they would continue.
And the key thing about “C” school was that, once you completed about a two-year classroom/on-the-job training program, you automatically became an E[nlisted Rank] 4—a petty officer third-class. We used to call those people “boot camp thirds.” Because, like, as you go through, you know, you'll be an E-1, E-2, E-3, and then E-4. whereas these guys automatically got credits, basically like college, you know—you got some free credits. So there were some “C” schools here, including the Nuclear Program was here, and the Signalman School was here, and I think—no. The Storekeeper School was in Mississippi. that wasn’t here. But from what I remember, Apprenticeship Training, Signalman, and there was, like, Fire Control Technicians, Radar Schools.
Barnes
Any other—anything else you think about—life off of base, special to base?
Clark
I guess just kind of life on the base. There was Navy Exchange, so if you were a retired naval person—and Florida accumulated a lot of, you know, a lot of retirees and a lot of military retirees, because of the history with Sanford and Orlando—so the Navy Exchange store was there. So if you were active duty or if you were retired military, you could do your shopping. In certain cases, get things a lot cheaper than out in the regular market.
Other than that, it was pretty much, from what I remember, just a training facility. I remember there was a high school on—right on the outside of the base. Seemed like—sometimes we would joke like we were kind of in prison, you know, and you could see the freedom on the other side. I remember, you know, like we would be marching on the grinder and doing all these drills, and you'd look over and see these high school kids running track and field, or, you know, something like that at the high school, and you're thinking we're in prison, but…
Barnes
When you left Orlando, you boarded a ship?
Clark
Yes. Upon completion of my apprenticeship training course—a little bit more of the story here is I had a chief petty officer. I forget his name, but you received your orders where you went to go, and I was always kind of joking around a little bit with the chief. And sure enough, where I get stationed, but the same ship he had come from to the Orlando Naval Training Center. so I remember he told me it was going to be tough, and that he was gonna—he arranged to have me go to the USS Richard E. Bird TDG-23—guided missile destroyer—ported out of Norfolk, Virginia. And that's where I went. And, interesting enough, this chief I then met years later when I was attending UCF and I was working at NationsBank—now Bank of America. He was a customer in there, and I remember him when he came in. we chatted and caught up, and he was living out by UCF at the time, and he was a customer at the bank.
But I caught my ship and I remember it was in the middle of deployment, towards the tail end of the North Atlantic—NATO [North Atlantic Treaty Organization] cruise. And I remember I had received my orders and I had to go there, and I had all my airplane tickets. They arranged and all that. And I looked on there and I'm like, Where is this place called Ponta Delgada? And there was no Internet in 1985, so I had to go look in the encyclopedia, and it was in the Azores Islands—Portuguese islands in the Atlantic Ocean. I remember I flew from Orlando to New York, and then caught airport to Lisbon[, Portugal], and had a couple night’s stay in Lisbon overnight, and then caught the flight to Ponta Delgada, where I caught my ship. And I still remember the first people I met, who I'm still in contact with today, on board my ship. Gary Hayne[sp], Kurt Kiesden[sp], and Alan Welch[sp] in particular, because I was assigned to deck division, and I was assigned to them.[3] And then from there, you know, I was assigned to the ship and that became my permanent duty station that I stayed at for the remainder of my term—three years and eight months.
Barnes
So you left the Navy when?
Clark
In February ’89. Four years active duty, and then served in the inactive reserves, which just meant if there's a call up, then you were subject.
Barnes
What did you end up doing when you left the Navy?
Clark
Okay. When I left the Navy, I started attended Daytona Beach Community College, which I think is now Daytona State College or something. and so I stayed in Flagler County and just did kind of odd jobs. I worked in a warehouse, primarily while I went to DBCC. And then I started working in the bank as a bank teller and then a sales and service rep[resentative].
And that actually worked out well, because, at the time, with the state, you could complete your first two years at a community college, then automatically transfer into any of the Florida state university system campuses. So I transferred to Orlando, because I worked at the bank it was quite an easy transfer to move over. So I started UCF in the Fall of ’93, after graduating from DBCC in the Spring of ’93. And then I graduated in Spring of ‘95 from UCF.
And also, I guess, during the—some other good things—when I became a basic seaman apprenticeship and I was assigned to the deck division on board, besides just chipping paint and doing all the deck stuff, the favorite thing—and I still remember it today, and it was one of my favorite things—you know, I barely had my driver's license—but at age 17, I qualified as a helmsman, and I drove the ship. I was at the wheel, and I qualified to run the ship's engines—the lee helm. and I used to stay on lookout watch. So here I was at 17 years old—and I actually saw a video on YouTube, like a Navy video, and it shows, like, the 22-year-old guy says, “Yeah. this is my job.” He says the same thing.
And I still remember to this day how to take the helm. You would go up—if you were to take the helm—let’s just say you’re at the wheel now—now I would walk up to the—well, I would first come to you and say, “Hey, what’s[sic] the coordinates? Where do you steer and where do you check in?”And that’s sort of the numbers from the compass of where—what direction you were going. I’d collect that, I’d go check what the speed was in knots, and then I would go up to the Officers’ Deck and salute, and he would say, “Officer of the deck, request permission to take the helm, steering course 225, checking 222 starboard unit, starboard cable, all engines ahead standard, 17 knot.” And the officer on deck would reply back and say, “Relieve the helm.” Then he would go over and then I would—I would take over. Yeah. it’s cool.
Barnes
Well I was getting ready to ask you, what were some of your favorite memories of the...
Clark
Oh, okay. alright. That’s a great one.
Barnes
Do you have another one there that...
Clark
Oh. Yeah. There’s[sic] plenty of them—and then really anything you tend to do, you know, in your life, it’s really about the people. And, you know, made some great friends. Still in contact with a lot them today. And lessons learned, you know, as a young kid—17 to 21, while I was in the Navy. And there’s a lot of memories, you know, of growing up doing stuff.
And I guess another thing is—I was always kind of a prankster a little bit, and I used to come home on leave for spring break, so I could be with all my friends. And we'd go to Daytona [Beach] and all that. One time I went off-base and I got—the senior chief, Senior Chief Moses, who was in charge of deck division, who I worked for—his plan was, you know, you had to look like a sailor. He was very strict with inspections. Well, one time I was trying to sneak and I went off-base and I got what he would call a “pretty-boy haircut.” So I came back and sure enough someone told on me and he personally walked me down to the ship’s barber and butchered me or whatever.
And so, as a retaliatory, I decided next day, I’m going to go put some red mousse in my hair and go stand inspection in front of him. Big mistake [laughs]. I remember he walked up to me, put his face in my face, and he goes, “Take your hat off, punk.” And he was this Texas—Texan guy. Big Texan guy. I took it off and I was smiling, and I wasn’t smiling much after that. He told me I had exactly two seconds to wash that “expletive” out of my hair or he was going to personally shave my head. [laughs] Let’s just say I jumped down the forward hatch and had the stuff out pretty quickly. [laughs]
Barnes
This kind of ties into this whole project that we’re doing and you mentioned it, but you made a lot of personal friends. You’re still in contact with them?
Clark
Yep. Yeah. Out on Facebook. They're all in on Facebook. We have our ships—we have a page of our ships, and so a lot of us connected through there, but even before that there was like a newsletter and some reunions that go. Because I was on an older ship that was commissioned in the early 60s and then decommissioned shortly after I left in 1990. So, you know, there’s[sic] 30 years of history pretty much with my ship that I was on. So the reunions—you have 30 years of people who served on board. So it’s quite large and extensive.
And then I always try to make the effort to visit some of the folks. I travel extensively for my current job, and if I go to a city where one of those guys are, you know, we always try to meet up. And a lot of them are kind of joking when, you know, I first got connected with them, say on Facebook, and they say, “I can’t believe you’re this corporate guy in a suit. You’re the last guy we would have thought as a corporate guy in a suit.”
Barnes
Is this your first trip—you've been back to Orlando since?
Clark
Oh, yeah. And actually, I guess after I finished the Navy, I graduated from UCF, and then worked locally in Altamonte [Springs] at the Kirchman Corporation, which was a banking software company. And then I worked for Pro Systems in Maitland. and then I went to—on an assignment to Luxemburg in Europe. I was there for a couple years. and then I came back and I was on a project in San Francisco[, California]. And then—then this was 2001.
So basically the time scale goes from exited active duty in ‘89, college until ‘95, Kirchman Corporation and Pro ‘96-‘97, Luxemburg from ‘98 to 2001, and then San Francisco for about a half a year. And then I came back to Maitland, and was working in Maitland and lived in Apopka from 2001 ‘till 2005, when I moved to Atlanta[, Georgia], and I've been in Atlanta since 2005.
Barnes
What do you think about all of the changes of the area that used to be the base?
Clark
You know, it’s kind of somewhat sad. There’s really nothing left there. Karla Novak was a personal friend of mine from when—from UCF days—gave me a tour around the Lone Sailor Foundation and the plans for that. And she showed me where the statue is going to be, you know, we’re kind of—both her and I went through there. So we were thinking this is—and she says, “Well, this is the old grinder.” and she was saying, “Remember we’d go over here and have to do these drills?”
Well, now it’s this open grass area. or over there is the housing where our berthing area—but now Baldwin Park is there. So it’s somewhat sad to think that—and I'm kind of one that—I like to preserve history. I wouldn’t want to say you have to preserve the base as-is, but you know, I think how important and how many lives, you know, were shaped, such as mine, going through boot camp. You know, going from being a kid to being an adult basically. you know, that there’s really not much left there.
Barnes
Well, what do you think the legacy of the base is?
Clark
I would say the legacy of the base is going to be, you know, the individual experiences of the people that really went through there. I mean, there’s not much left to see of, you know—what was left there, what was done. It was, you know, a training facility, classroom, and on-the-job training basically. You know, so there’s not much left as far as what you think of the Navy. You know, ships or aircraft or weapons or anything like that. I really think it’s about personal experience. And everybody had a different experience. You know, what they went through there.
Barnes
As a returning sailor, what would want to see if you returned back to the area to see the memorial? I mean, what would resonate with you?
Clark
I think some pictures, you know, of the facility itself, you know. Kind of like, if you went into a museum, you like to see this was Orlando Naval Training Center was here from 1968 ‘till 1992, or something like that. Here’s the pictures and, you know, kind of what, you know—like for my boot camp book—went there, you know. There’s[sic] pictures in there that show the activities and kind of what went on there, and everything’s changed from, you know—boot camp is probably similar, but there’s a lot of changes, you know.
And I think preserving the history and at least showing that, while we can—would be, you know, a good thing. You know, to show there with the Lone Sailor—the Lone Sailor is a great thing to—to reflect their—well, I think any memorabilia or, you know, pictures that show at one point in time this is what was here and quantify it. You know, x-number of people went through during this time who were the commanding officers, you know, kind of like any similar memorials or stuff like that.
Barnes
That’s about all I have. Is there anything that we missed that you’d like to add or a story you'd like to share?
Clark
I think I pretty much covered everything. You know, that was my time here in Orlando at the Naval Training Center for boot camp and then kind of post activities. So I think we've pretty much covered the full spectrum of your questions there, so.
Barnes
Okay. Well, thank you very much.
Clark
Thank you. I'm glad to help.