Buntings' Beach Blog

Forever an Islander: Fran Santini

Wed, 01 Apr 2026 13:45:01 GMT

Forever an Islander: Fran Santini

Forever an Islander: Fran Santini

Fort Myers Beach lost another true pioneer this week with the passing of Fran Santini at the age of 94.

Although Fran was born in Iona, her roots were firmly planted on Estero Island. In 1935, her family built a home on Primo Street—and Fran joined the first-grade class at the brand-new Beach School, which had just opened in the Mayhew Page cottage on Cottage Street (no longer standing).

The Santini family story is one of deep island legacy. Seven brothers and one sister were all born in Florida, as was Fran's grandfather, Tino. Her great-grandfather, Philip Armand Santini, and his brother, John (Giovanni) Santini, immigrated from Corsica in 1816. At one time, the family established a compound on Primo Street, with three Santini homes lining the canal. As Fran once recalled in an interview published in the Observer, “back in the day, there were about 35 Santinis running loose on Estero Island.”

The Santinis left a lasting imprint on the development of Fort Myers Beach. Fran’s father, Joseph Cyril (J.C.) Santini made his living as a commercial fisherman until his death in 1951 at age 74. His brother, Leonard Santini, became a key figure in the island’s growth, developing the 192-unit Leonardo Arms—the first major condominium complex on the south end of the beach. Today, the Santini name lives on through landmarks such as Leonardo Arms, Santini Marina Plaza, and the Church of the Ascension, as well as through Leonard’s enduring philanthropy via the Southwest Florida Community Foundation.

Other members of the extended family were equally influential. Uncle Godfrey owned the Kleen Fish Company, while his wife operated Daisy Anne’s Restaurant. Nephews Mark and Jay Townley transitioned from shrimping to founding Sanibel Seafood, and Uncle Nick was known for his handcrafted fishing nets.

Fran graduated from Fort Myers High School in 1949. After her father’s passing two years later, she went to work at age 20 to help support her family. Though she briefly worked in Fort Myers, the daily drive didn’t suit her. In 1952, she joined Beach Lumber as a bookkeeper—a position she would hold for an extraordinary 42 years, remaining constant even as ownership changed.

Outside of work, Fran became a standout in the local bowling community. Beginning in 1950, she and her sister Blanche earned a reputation as “the pride and joy of Fort Myers area bowlers.” In one memorable exhibition match, Fran defeated nationally ranked bowler Evelyn Teal, scoring 605 to Teal’s 554. She later competed in the 1963 Women’s National Tournament in Memphis, where her team placed fourth. In 1991, Fran was inducted into the Women’s Bowling Association Hall of Fame for Superior Performance. A knee injury eventually brought her bowling career to a close.

Even after retiring in 1996, Fran remained deeply involved in the community. She was a founding member of the Estero Island Historic Society and served as its treasurer for many years, helping to preserve the island’s rich history.

Fran also had a deep love for nature—and a particularly special bond with an egret named Iggy. For 14 years, Iggy frequented the Primo canal and often wandered into Fran’s home, where he would watch television with her. He was especially fond of the smelts she fed him from Sanibel Seafood.

Fran’s memories of early island life paint a vivid picture of a simpler time. She spoke of “sleeping pits” dug in the sand where children spent carefree nights under the stars, of roving Christmas carolers, community fish fries, and a time when no one was a stranger at local bars and restaurants. Even Rocco the barber, who worked in town during the week, returned on Sundays to cut hair for island residents.

Fran cared deeply about the future of Fort Myers Beach. She often expressed concern about overdevelopment, once remarking, “I wish they wouldn’t build any more on this island. There’s too much traffic… It’s just too crowded.”

Her commitment to preservation extended beyond words. Fran worked with the original Town Council to update the comprehensive plan and was actively involved with Matanzas Pass Preserve, Conservation 2020, and the Estero Bay Aquatic Preserve.

Fran remained in her beloved family home on Primo Street until Hurricane Ian forced her to relocate off island to live with her niece Carla Townley Middleton. Even then, she continued to support the Estero Island Historic Society and its mission to protect the island’s history and character.

Fran Santini was, in every sense, forever an islander—and her legacy will continue to shape Fort Myers Beach for generations to come.

The Gullah Heritage: From Sea Islands to Florida

Fri, 27 Dec 2024 13:46:44 GMT

In January, the speaker for Estero Island Historic Society’s public meeting will be Martha Bireda, director of the Blanchard House Museum of African American History and Culture of Charlotte County. Ms. Bireda is the great-granddaughter of Queen Evans Andrews, a pioneer who came to Punta Gorda in 1897 from Charleston, South Carolina. She will share stories of the Gullah culture and of her visits with the Gullah people who live on James and Johns Islands. Having just visited the Georgia and South Carolina Coasts, I thought this might be a good time to do a bit of research into the Gullah culture in anticipation of our January meeting.

What is the Gullah culture? How did it begin? How has it evolved? These are all questions that led me to visit Daufauskie Island one of many “sea islands” located off the east coast between Hilton Head and Savannah. These islands played an important role in the growth of our country.

Originally inhabited by the Guale and Yamasse tribes, the Sea Islands provided a unique ecosystem utilizing the forests, rivers, and marshlands to maintain a lifestyle based on fishing, hunting, and gathering.

For many years, these tribes lived in harmony with the land until the Spanish explorers arrived in the 16th century. They brought disease and conflicts, and by the 18th century, the Guale and Yamassee had disappeared paving the way for the next wave of Europeans.

When the Europeans colonized the islands in the 17th century, they established plantations to grow rice and Indigo. These crops required specialized skills and intensive labor, so the plantation owners brought in slaves from West Africa since they were famous for their knowledge of rice growing and their ability to work in tropical climates.

Until the American Revolution, these plantation owners were paid a subsidy to grow Indigo because it was popular in Britain. However, after the war, the British no longer supported the crop, so the focus was now on rice and cotton products.

Before the Civil War, Sea Island Cotton was one of the regions most valuable crops. When the war began, the Union forces captured most of the Sea Islands and the plantation owners abandoned their land leaving the liberated slaves on the island.

When the plantation system collapsed after the war, the freed slaves were able to stay on the islands and transition to an independent life where they could farm their own land, earn money, and purchase the land. The Sea Islands were one of the first areas in the south where African Americans were able to own land.

During Reconstruction, these former slaves established thriving, self-sustaining communities. They maintained aspects of their Gullah Geeche culture. This culture continued to flourish mainly because of the isolation from the mainland.

By the early 20th century, the Sea Island began to see the development of tourism. Wealthy families from the North started to visit the islands attracted by their natural beauty and Southern Charm. Some of the first vacation homes and resorts were constructed at this time.

Development of the islands continued into the late 20th century but the emphasis has been on preserving the natural environment and cultural heritage. Citizens began advocating for the protection of the Gullah culture leading to efforts to protect the historic sites and promote sustainable development.

Some freed slaves came South to Florida bringing aspects of their Gullah heritage with them, particularly in isolated or rural communities where African traditions could thrive.

The Gullah people retained rich African customs, many of which mingled with local Native American and Caribbean cultures when they moved to places like Southwest Florida. Although the Blanchard House Museum of African American History is presently closed due to hurricane damage, they continue to have exhibits around Punta Gorda, and Martha Bireda continues to speak about the Gullah people and their influence on Southwest Florida. Please join us on January 13 at 2 PM at the Mound House to hear more about these people and their culture.

Who Was Jack DeLysle?

Sun, 01 Sep 2024 14:10:01 GMT

Who was Jack DeLysle? I had been reading about him in different articles as I was doing research on the early days on the island. I had come up empty except for one cryptic note I found that he “left the island under mysterious circumstances.” Yesterday, I was going through copies of the Sand Paper that were donated to the historic society and found an article by Jean Matthews that was about Jack DeLysle. This is what I learned about the mystery man who played a pivotal role in the early development of the island.

Jack and his brother, John, first appeared in Southwest Florida after their ship ran aground at the moth of Gordon’s Pass. When Sheriff Frank Tippins arrived to investigate the incident, he found 320 boxes of “Soap” that turned out to be whiskey.

The brothers had apparently picked up the moonshine in Alabama and sailed to Tampa, then Key West, and finally to Cuba. When they returned to Florida, they were caught in a storm and the ship was wrecked. “Captain” Jack DeLysle claimed he was in the British Army; however, he and John were arrested and turned over to the Feds. Both men were found innocent by a jury in Tampa and Jack returned to Fort Myers where he was into many different endeavors.

Although he wrote poetry that he published in the local paper, DeLysle is best known for his efforts to raise money to build a bridge to Fort Myers Beach. He joined the Crescent Bridge Road Company where he met E.E. Damkohler. Damkohler was trying to raise money to build a road from Miner’s Corner to the Island.

DeLysle saw potential in Crescent Beach ( old name for Fort Myers Beach)being developed into a tourist mecca like Miami Beach. He purchased property in Case Subdivision and built the Seminole Sands Casino. DeLysle’s casino had a game room with tables and slot machines, changing rooms, a dance pavilion, and a restaurant.

DeLysle had the casino ready to open when the bridge was finished in May 1921. The other casino was Thomas Phillip’s Crescent Beach Casino at the north end where the Gulf Shore and the Cottage were located before Ian.

People who wanted to visit Seminole Sands Casino would drive on the beach from Pompano Street where Estero ended. Jack was the ultimate marketer for his business. He hired a live band to play on weekends and had a bus service that would take people from Fort Myers to the casino. His business began to grow and everything was looking good for a successful season.

Unfortunately, in October 1921 the worst hurricane in a decade hit the island and the casino was severely damaged and needed to be rebuilt. Jack reopened and decided to serve only fresh vegetables at his restaurant, so he planted crops along Connecticut Avenue; however, this did not work out very well as Jack did not know how to protect his crops against the cold. Little is known whether Seminole Sands continued to be successful because the casino burned to the ground in 1924 after being empty for quite some time before the fire.

Delysle seemed to disappear after the fire. He tried to launch a newspaper called the Daily Palm Leaf, but was unsuccessful. An article in the News-Press indicated that DeLysle had been arrested in Tampa and extradited to New Bedford for to face a larceny charge.

Times Square Through the Decades

Fri, 14 Jun 2024 20:23:57 GMT

The Tip Top was a popular hangout for teens back in the day.

Introduction

In the past week, I have watched two different presentations on the redevelopment of Times Square. On Tuesday, June 11, the owners of the properties in Times Square presented their plans for the area. On Wednesday, June 12, a group call Resiliency presented their ideas on different projects including Times Square, Old San Carlos, Newton Park, and Connectivity. Both presentations were informative and now residents can provide input into how they see these ideas being implemented. One of the speakers mentioned that this area of the island has always been subjected to change and has been evolving for the better since 1940. The following is a timeline of the development of Times Square and Old San Carlos over the decades.

The Early Years (1910-1940)

The first pier on the island was at the Beach Hotel, built in 1913 and enlarged in the late 20s.

The first bridge to the island was built in 1921. At this time, the Beach Hotel was the only hotel on the island; there were two casinos (Jack DeLyle’s Seminole Sands at the end of Connecticut and Thomas Philips Fort Myers Beach Casino where the Gulf Shore Grill was located). The only road stopped at the Beach Hotel until the late 30s when it was extended to Connecticut; by the 40s, the road was up to the Catholic church. It was not until the 50s that Estero Blvd went to the end of the island. The center of social activity at this time was the Beach Hotel. The road leading from the bridge to the gulf was paved in 1928 and lined with palm trees. There were no businesses along the road until the late 40s and early 50s.

The concrete road from the bridge to the pier lasted until the redevelopment of Times Square in the 90s.

The Fabulous 50s

In 1948, the second fishing pier was built at the north end of the island on property owned by Thomas Philips. The first pier was at the Beach Hotel and was destroyed in the 1944 hurricane. Shortly after the pier opened, the county purchased land north of the pier for a county park.

This was the beginning of what is now called “Times Square.” Once the pier and park were opened, people came to the island to enjoy swimming, fishing, and playing on the beach. These people needed places to purchase beach supplies, food, and entertainment. Businesses began to spout up around the pier and the park. The Tip Top was a popular place for young people to hang out overlooking the gulf. Across the street were more restaurants, arcades, and souvenir shops.

The County Park attracted visitors from all over to enjoy the beach and the pier.

At this time, traffic came off the bridge and took San Carlos Blvd to the pier where it joined Estero Blvd. All traffic had to pass “Times Square” to get on or off the island.

In the 50s, the residents of the island were either business owners, commercial fishermen, or shrimpers. During the winter, snowbirds would come and stay in the trailer courts, cottage courts, or small mom and pop motels. Some would stay for the entire winter and enroll their children in the Beach School. Although we had visitors, I would not say we were a tourist destination at this time.

Garl’s Drug store was an island icon for many years. Mango Bay was in this building when Ian hit in 2022.

Times Square and San Carlos Blvd developed organically as the island grew. With the pier and the county park at the north end, this became the new social center of the island. In 1951, Harold Garl opened Garl’s Drug Store at the corner of Fifth Street and San Carlos. This became the anchor for development along San Carlos.

Soon, this corridor became a true business district. Charles Bigelow opened Bigelow Shopping Center in the early 50s providing another place for businesses to operate.

Bigelow Shopping Center housed many different businesses and was a one stop shop for residents.

The Swinging 60s

The business district continued to grow in the 60s adding more businesses to the corridor. By the end of the decade, four gas stations, a furniture store, a full-service grocery store, several motels, gift shops, a doctor’s office, a beauty salon, a cocktail lounge and many real estate offices were opened along San Carlos Blvd and in Bigelow Shopping Center.

The intersection of San Carlos and Estero was made one way in the 60s.

At some time in this decade, the traffic pattern was changed to allow traffic to flow onto Estero without going around Times Square. After getting off the bridge, you would continue on San Carlos Blvd until the road split near Winds. If you wanted to visit Times Square or the other businesses on San Carlos, you would continue straight on San Carlos. If you wanted to get onto Estero, you would bear left avoiding Times Square completely.

San Carlos Blvd was the business district for many years until the new bridge was built in 1979.

Sensational 70s

This decade brought many changes to the island. The biggest change was the addition of a new bridge in 1979 which changed the island in many ways. Residents were thrilled with the idea of a new bridge since the old swing bridge was on its last legs and was being blamed for all the traffic issues. The new bridge would eliminate those problems. When the new bridge opened, everything changed in the “downtown” area of the island.

The Sky Bridge brought many changes to the island, but it did not improve the traffic issues as we hoped it would.

The new bridge went over most of San Carlos Blvd and dumped traffic directly onto Estero. Residents and visitors no longer needed to pass all the business that were along San Carlos. New businesses such as a Pizza Hut and a Kentucky Fried Chicken had opened next to some of the older businesses.

To visit these businesses, you had to turn right on Fifth Street and then go back onto San Carlos or forward to Times Square.

The 70s were also a time of growth on the island as the first condos were built in the late 60s so by the 70s developers were quickly buying up the old motels, hotels, and cottages, and replacing them with high rise condos.

By the 70s, the county park had many amenities such as a bath house, playground, and picnic tables.

Electric 80s

The building frenzy of the 70s continued into the 80s with 68 new condo complexes being developed. Unfortunately, this growth did not help the businesses along San Carlos and in Times Square. The change in the traffic pattern caused the deterioration of these areas.

The change in the traffic pattern allowed people to drive around the Times Square area without going down San Carlos Blvd. Mostly young people (me included) liked to get in their cool cars, roll down the windows, blast the music, and drive north to Times Square. They would turn onto Fifth Street and then turn left to go around Times Square where they would “check out” what was going on. If they did not stop anywhere, they would make the loop again. This would happen all day and all-night causing traffic to back up (or so they said).

This is a good shot of San Carlos before the redevelopment of Times Square.

As early as 1987, the News-Press ran an article proposing a pedestrian mall around Times Square. If cars were not allowed to drive down San Carlos to Estero, they could eliminate the loop problem. Although the idea was floated around, nothing really happened until the 1990s.

In the mid 80s, Tom Myers built Seafarers Village at the corner of Estero and San Carlos. The small mall was home to many different businesses including a fancy restaurant, a great deli, a liquor store, and other small gift shops.

Nifty 90s

The 90s was a decade of change in many ways. The high-rise condos continued to replace the cottage courts and motels. The “downtown” area continued to deteriorate as the business that once provided services for residents packed up and left the island. Pizza Hut, Kentucky Fried Chicken, Dockside Pizza, the car wash, and more were gone and the area was considered “blighted.”

In 1994, the idea of a pedestrian mall came up again. At first the idea was met with resistance from the business owners fearing that without traffic going past their establishments, they could not survive. After much discussion, the county decided to try the pedestrian mall idea and then decide whether to make it permanent.

The redeveloped Times Square became a pedestrian mall which eliminated the “looping,” but didn’t help the traffic.

By 1996, Times Square was a pedestrian mall, and most people were on board with the idea. When the town incorporated in 1995, they began working with the county on the redevelopment of San Carlos Blvd and Times Square.

Ground was broken on the new Times Square in 1996 after much discussion and planning. Once the project was completed, businesses in the area started to recover as residents and visitors came to enjoy the new entertainment district.

The new sidewalks, underground lighting, colorful bricks and eclectic buildings made the area funky and there was definitely a beach vibe from the gulf to the bay.

Everything was going well until 2004 when Charley came to visit.

Trendy 20s

Before August 2004, the last hurricane to hit Fort Myers Beach was Hurricane Donna in 1960. Since that time, the island had developed quite a bit with many high rises and more permanent residents. Charley was a smaller storm than Ian and the damage on the island was not nearly as bad as it was in Ian. However, there were some structures that sustained quite a bit of damage and needed to be taken down.

This was the Tip Top after Hurricane Donna in 1960.

By the time Charley hit, the newly designed Times Square and Pedestrian Mall had been completed. After the storm, the town planning continued. The next step in the process was to work on the Estero Blvd Street Scape plan that was part of the original redevelopment process.

In 2004, Dave Meyers purchased Seafarer’s Mall and three other parcels on the gulf side of Estero going from the Sandman Motel to Canal Street. A short time after he made this investment, Hurricane Charley caused major damage on the island, pretty much destroying Seafarer’s Mall and damaging these hotels.

In 2006, Meyers presented a proposal to tear down Seafarer’s Mall and replace it with 65 hotel units and a 220-space parking garage. An investment group known as Time Square FMB was planning to develop this section of the island, but in 2010, they were facing foreclosure. By 2013, the town council and Lee County were in discussions regarding the future of this property. The damaged mall and run-down hotels were considered a blighted area, and the town and the county knew something needed to be done. After much discussion, the county agreed to purchase the land that was home to Seafarers, the Sandman Motel, Howard Johnsons, and Days Inn. Using Tourist Development funds, 5.6 million was paid for the property that was to become a beachside park.

Hurricane Ian destroyed Times Square as plans for its redevelopment continue.

In 2016, TPI Hospitality led by Tom Torgenson, began plans to develop a several large parcels of land on both sides of Estero. Torgenson and his group faced many challenges and oppostions before construction began in August 2021. Hurricane Ian destroyed over 90 percent of the buildings on the island when it hit on September 22, 2022. Although Margaritaville suffered some setbacks, the resort rebounded quickly and opened in December 2023. Despite all the complaining and setbacks, most residents saw the new resort as a beacon of hope for the devastated community.

We are now approaching the second anniversary of Hurricane Ian. Residents and visitors have continued to be drawn to the Times Square area, and it has once again become the social center of the island. As the presenters explained their ideas for the new Times Square, they made it quite clear, that we cannot rebuild the area they way it was. Setbacks and other federal building regulations need to be taken into account in this rebuild.

Now is the time for public meetings and discussions. This was done back in the 90s and was a good way for everyone to provide input. Let’s hope we can come together and support these business owners who are trying to get back on their feet.

Preserving Our Environment: The Battle for Estero Bay

Tue, 07 May 2024 14:36:06 GMT

While doing research for Lost Icons, I came across a quote in the News-Press that I have cited several times in other articles and presentations. Written in the late 1970s, this quote seems to bring the past and the future together quite nicely: “Nobody really wants to stop progress, but there is an increasing awareness that the island is in danger of becoming a polluted paradise.”

Over fifty years ago, the paper stated that Fort Myers Beach was at a crossroads. The 70s were a time of rapid, uncontrolled development with over 68 condos being developed in a single decade. This led residents to vote to incorporate the town so we could control our own destiny and stop the over-development of our island. The newly born town elected its first town council who worked very hard to create a comp plan that would guide our development and preserve our island lifestyle.

This plan was completed in 1995 and had served us well until Hurricane Ian damaged every building on the island. Now that we are in the rebuilding mode, we are once again at a crossroads: Do we stick to the comp plan and turn down the developers who want to build higher and bigger? So far, the council has been carefully considering all arguments and is making logical decisions trying to keep as close to the comp plan as possible.

The council and residents need to tread carefully to make sure, in our efforts to build back, we spend time anticipating the unintended consequences of building back bigger. One very good example of this is the recent attempt of two legislators to take back 225 acres that are part of the Estero Bay Aquatic Preserve. (More on this in another post).

This was not the first time our beautiful back bay was threatened. Let’s go back to the 1960s when a group of concerned residents decided to take action to preserve the beauty of our back bay.

Back to the Future

The uncontrolled growth of the island in the 70s gave way to a new wave of environmentalism in the 80s. One of the most important environmental wins was the creation of the Estero Bay Aquatic Preserve. It is important to understand the history of the preserve to appreciate its importance to our future.

It all began as early as 1958 when Barry C Williams and investors purchased 5,500 acres of land along the northern and eastern coast of Estero Bay for $1.6 million. The developers had big plans to create a seawall along 18 miles of coastline. The seawall would “straighten out the jagged coastline by using 17 million cubic yards of fill.” It would also swallow up 1,100 acres of land that was previously underwater. A 12-foot channel would be cut through the seagrass beds around the seawall. This technique had been used in Tampa, St. Pete, and Sarasota which turned the most productive estuaries in the state into barren wastelands.

When the residents got wind of this plan, they went into action. They realized that Estero Bay was not as pristine as it had been in the past. Fishing was not as good as it used to be; the water was not as clear as it should be; seagrass beds were dying and affecting marine life. This group formed an organization known as the Lee County Conservation Association back in 1961. The idea caught on and it did not take long for the membership to include more than 50 percent of the county’s registered voters (Miller). At this time, the organization did not have the support of the county commissioners who were more interested in growth and development than the environment.

Edited in Prisma app

Most of the group’s members were believers in private property rights. They did not want to see their fishing grounds destroyed because these grounds belonged to the public. Before this group was formed, it was not unusual for developers to cut down mangroves to create waterfront communities with little pushback from environmentalists.

Although residents tolerated the local developers, they were becoming more and more concerned about the long-term effects of this practice. They realized that without protection, Estero Bay would be ruined, and Williams’ proposal would put this destruction on a much larger scale. The members of the association began a campaign to save the bay. They wrote letters, spoke with politicians, and used their voting block to change the county leadership.

The association argued that the submerged lands belonged to the state. They wanted to create the Estero Bay State Park. This was a solid argument since the law clearly states that any land above the high tide mark can be owned privately. However, any land below the high tide mark belongs to the state. Eventually, the association’s work paid off and led to the creation of the first aquatic preserve in Florida. This became a model for the 41 other preserves that were created along the state’s coastal waters.

New Preserve Threatened

This is paragraph text. Click it or hit the Manage Text button to change the font, color, size, format, and more. To set up site-wide paragraph and title styles, go to Site Theme.Although the group was successful in creating the preserve, their battle was not over. In 1974, Robert Troutman, who was the attorney for Williams, brought forth his plans to create a development known as Estuaries. Troutman had plans to build a city the size of Fort Lauderdale along the coastline from Punta Rassa to Hendry Creek. His development was to be home to 78,000 people, included five different villages, three golf courses, 14 tennis centers, four marinas, 24 lakes, and 403 acres of parks. Ninety percent of the land for the intended development was considered wetlands.

This is the same Troutman who, sixteen years earlier, represented Barry C. Williams and his investors who purchased the 5,500 acres along the northern and eastern coast of Estero Bay for $1.6 million. Robert Troutman was a heavy hitter from Atlanta who was friends with the Kennedys and the Rockefellers.

When the Lee County Conservation Association learned of Troutman’s plan, they decided to take on him and his team of lawyers and developers.

Environmentalists realized what Troutman’s planned development would do to the delicate ecosystem surrounding Estero Bay. They knew that if this ecosystem were to collapse, it would devastate our marine life as 95 percent of all marine life spend a part of their lives in an estuary.

This association was up against more than just Troutman and his high-powered staff. They were also pitted against the Lee County Commissioners who were more interested in the money they could make off this development than in the environmental impact it would have on the bay.

Eventually, the association was successful in electing commissioners who cared more about the environment than development. Troutman needed 3 votes to approve his development plan and in six years, he could not receive approval. The newly elected commissioners were too concerned with the long-term environmental effects of the project, and many had friends in the environmental community.

Troutman continued his fight in the court feeling confident that he would win with his team of biologists and lawyers. The association believed that the development would be denied since the area to be developed was in the newly created Estero Bay Aquatic Preserve.

After several years, Troutman was finally defeated in court when the battle to stop the project went all the way to the Supreme Court. He couldn’t believe that the people of southwest Florida were not embracing his dream of a community on the shores of Estero Bay. In fact, Troutman was later found destroying mangroves in an act of retaliation.

Even though Troutman did not see his dream come true, he did continue to develop on Fort Myers Beach acquiring Sandpiper Cove, Siesta Isles, and Bay Beach. But he did not destroy our bay.

Now, over fifty years later, legislators are once again testing the waters to see if they can carve out over 200 acres of the preserve so that a 300-slip marina can be built near the shrimp docks. More on this in my next blog post.

Fort Myers Beach Fire Department Has a Long Successful History

Fri, 10 Nov 2023 15:08:07 GMT

I have been reading recently about the plan to merge the FMB Fire Department with Bonita. I am by no means an expert on how or if this would be a money saving move, but I do know that the FMB Fire Department has been the pride of our island since 1949 when the Beach Volunteer Fire Department was born at “Jenk’s Bar” on San Carlos Island. Twenty-two men attended the banquet meeting. Earl Howie was the first Fire Chief, and J. Travis Cowart was elected Fire Captain. This was the beginning. Prior to this time, there was no established fire department on the island, and the closest fire apparatus was 20 miles away in Fort Myers. The information in this article comes from a small booklet written by former Chief John McCarthy called simply “The History of the Fort Myers Beach Fire Department.”

After raising funds from the island residents, the new department purchased a small two-wheeled spray pump, tank, and trailer that was pulled by a borrowed jeep (McCarthy). These were housed at Red Coconut. Residents could call the department by dialing 2541, a precursor to 911. In April 1950, an old international war-surplus fire/rescue crash truck was purchased. This was a step up from the original truck and was the first real fire apparatus that the department owned. It lasted until May 1964 when it was sold to Leigh Acres Volunteer Fire Department.

On July 10, 1950, the Fire Department was incorporated as the Fort Myers Beach Fire Control District, Inc, a non-profit organization with Earl Howie as president and Travis Cowart as vice president. One year later, the Fort Myers Beach Fire Control District was established as a special taxing district. For this to take effect, the residents of the island needed to ratify the proposal and elect fire commissioners. On June 5, 1951, the ratification election was held, and the district was approved.

On December 15, 1951, the first organizational meeting of the Fire Board was held. The Commission approved yearly salaries of $1,440.00 for Chief Howie and $1,200 to his second in command. At the time, the Beach Fire Department was only the second department in Lee County to pay their personnel. Just after Christmas in 1951, Don and Ora Zimmer donated land on Estero for a fire station. They only had one stipulation: “That the described property be maintained as a main and operating fire and engine house,” or the land would revert to the Zimmers or their heirs.

1960 was an historic year for the fire department according to McCarthy: they got a new, modern fire truck, Motorola radios were installed in the trucks, and the district obtained a radio license and call numbers. In 1960, the population of the island was reaching 2, 500 residents. The nearest hospital was in Fort Myers with ambulance service being provided by one of the funeral homes in town . It could take up to thirty minutes for an ambulance to arrive on the scene of the emergency. In response to this problem, community leaders formed the Fort Myers Beach Rescue Unit which was separate from the FMB Fire Department. The funeral home donated an old step van bakery truck to be used as an ambulance. The plan was for the new FMB Rescue Unit to transport the patients to Miner’s corner where they would meet the funeral home ambulance that would take them to the hospital.

Later, the FMB Rescue Unit merged with the FMB Fire Department to become the Fort Myers Beach Fire Control District. The rescue unit was established as an official division of the fire department. In December 1966, the commissioners approved a motion to construct a two-story addition to the fire station. In 1969, the funeral home decided they no longer wanted to provide service to the island. This really was not a big deal for the department since they had already received a license to operate an ambulance service. They purchased a new rescue vehicle for $2,515.

The department continued to expand into the 70s. This was the time of massive development with many of the new condos reaching heights not before experienced on the island. The department needed a truck that could deal with potential fires in the high-rise units that were being built. They had a 50-foot truck built with “telescoping water” for $60,235. This was the second ariel truck in Southwest Florida at the time and was called upon throughout the county when needed.

In 1977, the department decided they needed a station on San Carlos Island. The new substation was in operation from 1978 to late 1979 when it was closed, and all equipment moved back to the Donora station. This was the only station in the district until a new station #2 was built at the northern end of San Carlos Blvd.

In 1981, the district was authorized to operate an advanced life support ambulance. Legislation passed this year also provided that the local fire board would set the millage rate rather than Lee County. In the 1990s, the department expanded its services to include water rescue. The Beach Fire Service was one of the first in the United States to operate an advanced life support fire vessel.

Ft Myers Beach Fire/Rescue May 1995

After reading this little booklet, I concluded that our Fort Myers Beach Fire Control District should remain as it has been since its inception: an independent organization dedicated to serving the needs of island residents. As a lifetime resident of the island, I would gladly pay a few dollars more in taxes to keep the Fire Department independent. As an independent organization, the FMB Fire Control District has been a leader, not only in Southwest Florda, but also in the nation. I feel certain they will continue to provide the quality service we have always expected, and they deserve our support as an independent organization.

Haunted Restaurants of FMB?

Tue, 29 Aug 2023 20:42:58 GMT

Yesterday I was surfing the Internet, and I came across an article about haunted restaurants. This article mentioned the Whale (formerly the Beached Whale and before that the Mermaid Club) as being haunted by the ghosts of Jim and Mary Galloway (I covered their murder in an earlier posting). Suddenly, I remembered reading about another haunted restaurant on the island: the Holmes House. This led me down a rabbit hole as I got caught up in trying to learn more about the ghost that was supposed to be the daughter of the restaurant owner who had died (I can’t remember how she was supposed to have died). Unfortunately, I came up empty on the ghost story, but I did learn some interesting facts about this lost icon of Fort Myers Beach.

The Holmes House was located at the corner of Estero and Chapel Street directly across from Chapel By The Sea. According to an article in the New York Times, the original building for this restaurant was a five-room beach cottage built in 1919 and used as a retreat for nuns in the Tampa Diocese. Apparently, from 1919 until 1951 several additions were made to the house but not much else is known until the property was purchased by Dick and Fran Holmes. This is how the restaurant came to be called the “Holmes House.” The restaurant was run by the Holmes family until it was sold in 1974 to Donna and Dave Miller.

My family moved to the island in 1953 and developed an odd relationship with the owners of the Holmes House. They had a dog named Cobina who would take walks on the beach and end up in front of Red Coconut. The trailer park did not allow dogs in the 1950s, so it did not take long for me to “adopt” Cobina when she made her daily trek down the beach. We spent hours playing in the gulf, and I made sure she got treats so she would continue to return each afternoon.

Then one day my dad sat me down and told me that Cobina belonged to the owners of the Holmes House, and they did not want her to be coming over to visit anymore because they were getting ready to go back north for the summer and would be taking her with them.

The restaurant was only open during the season. Apparently, the Holmes Family owned another restaurant somewhere around Cape Cod that they ran during the summer months. They had their own workers who came with them to help run the restaurants.

When I was older, we would go there for special occasions, and I do remember the wait staff was made up of African American men who wore white suits and gloves.

I never found out what happened to Cobina, but she never returned to play with me on the beach.

The Holmes House attracted many celebrities over its over twenty years in business. An article in the News-Press lists Perry Como, Hugh Downs, Myrna Loy and Theodore White as patrons of the exclusive restaurant.

Flash forward to the summer of 1974 when Donna and Dave Miller purchased the premises. They began to remodel the building adding a Groggery, Boston Tea Room, and a Rusty Scupper Room. The restaurant could accommodate two hundred people in one seating after the additions were completed.

In addition to changing the looks of the restaurant, the Millers changed the name to “Ye Olde Holmes House.” They created an eight-page menu including gourmet cuisine like Crab Meat Monaco, chateaubriand, pheasant, and Baked Alaska.

The New York Times article revealed that Dave Miller was a graduate of Boston College’s Carroll School of Management. He was only 22 years old when he opened his first restaurant on Fort Myers Beach. The Times describes Ye Old Holmes House as a “polish-casual concept that was designated as one of the top ten restaurants in Florida.” The restaurant was also rated among the top 100 restaurants by Florida Trend Magazine for four straight years according to the News-Press.

In 1985, the Mucky Duck on Captiva suffered the worst beach erosion in its history. This prompted some of the partners to look for another restaurant to purchase to ensure that the Mucky Duck name would carry on even if the Captiva restaurant were to be destroyed in a storm. The partners purchased the old Holmes House which had been a Smitty’s Steakhouse after the Millers sold the building. The Fort Myers Beach Mucky Duck closed in 2002 and the building was torn down in 2005. The property is still vacant today. The original Mucky Duck on Captiva has continued to survive thanks to beach nourishments conducted over the years. Although it was damaged in Ian, the popular restaurant has been restored and is now open again.

Another Loss for Fort Myers Beach: RIP AJ Bassett

Thu, 27 Apr 2023 17:24:57 GMT

The passing of longtime Beach resident AJ Bassett this week is another loss for our island. AJ was one of the few residents still alive who were on the island in the 1940s. When her newly widowed mother, Mildred, packed up her three children (AJ, Connie, and Frandy) and her mother and drove from Philadelphia to Fort Myers Beach, there were just 279 people living on the island. Connie and AJ were only 6 years old. The family rented a cottage on the beach and began their new life as islanders.

Mildred was a graduate of Bryn Mawr College in Philadelphia, so it did not take long for her to get a job teaching Latin in Fort Myers. She was instrumental in helping to raise funds to build the second Beach School on Sterling Street. Eventually, she became a teacher at the school, and later the principal when the third school opened.

I did not know AJ growing up on the island as she was older and in college when I was a kid. However, I did get to know Mildred as she and my mother became good friends since my mom taught at the Beach School when Mildred was principal. AJ attended Florida State University where she was a competitive swimmer. She became a teacher herself and spent many years teaching in Miami.

AJ was very close with her twin sister, Connie, who passed away several years ago. These girls, along with Fran Santini, Jean Matthew, and Jo Hughes grew up on the island when it was nothing but a jungle of sea oats and mangroves. They had a wonderful childhood running barefoot on the beach, sailing in the back bay, and fishing in the Gulf. They were instrumental in forming the Estero Island Historic Society in 1991 and getting the Davison’s “We’re Here” cottage donated and moved to Bay Road to become a museum.

When AJ asked me to join the Board of Directors of the Historic Society about twenty years ago, I did not hesitate. We worked closely together for many years, and I learned more about the island’s history from her than from any history books.

Prior to September 28, I was organizing some of the files that AJ had been working on before her health began to fail. I was amazed at the work that she had put into these files. She had separate files for all kinds of information about the Beach. Everything from environmental issues to people who had shaped our history were included in the hundreds of files she had been working on. Unfortunately, these were all destroyed in the hurricane.

In addition, AJ was the curator of the museum. She set up all the exhibits and kept the museum alive with history. She would invite the Beach School kids to come to the cottage each Christmas to eat homemade cookies and learn about island history.

For many years, FGCU students would visit the cottage once a semester as part of their environmental education courses. AJ and Jo Hughes would share stories growing up on the island in the 40s as they toured the museum and the preserve.

AJ was always coming up with new ways to earn money for society. The Historical Boat Tours and Trolley Tours were very popular with residents and snowbirds alike. She got the last remaining rain barrel donated to the Historic Society. At the time, my son was on track to become an Eagle Scout, and AJ convinced him that moving the rain barrel and setting it up at the cottage would make a great project. He successfully completed the project, and the rain barrel survived the storm although it will need some TLC to get back into its previous shape.

The Historic Society will miss her as we begin our rebuilding process. Once the museum is ready to open, we will be planning an event to celebrate the lives of AJ, Jo Hughes, Tom Myers, Bill Van Duzer, Bill Semmer, Jack Underhill, and others whom we have lost in recent years.

Signs, Signs, Everywhere a Sign: A Short Lesson in Sign History on FMB

Thu, 16 Mar 2023 17:31:12 GMT

For the past few weeks, volunteers have been busy painting street signs to help people navigate on the island. Very few of the “Approved” signs survived the storm, so this was a great way for people to help out with the rebuilding of FMB. Unfortunately, some controversy has arisen about these signs since they are not “up to code.” I thought this might be a good time to look back about seventy years when the last sign controversy rocked the Beach.

Back in the early days when the population of the island was less than 500, people named their homes with monikers like “Sea Breeze” and “Gulf View” and “Pine Cone.” A Post Office had been on the island in some form since the 1900s, but there was no home delivery because the beach lacked street signs and house numbers. Jeff Brame, who was the official telegram man on the island, tried to have each house register with him at Gulf View so he would know how to find people if they received a telegram. However, he was not very successful in doing this, and it was becoming more and more difficult to keep track of all the houses.

Residents wanted a logical numbering system, so, in the late 50s, an engineering firm was finally hired to come up with a house numbering system that would allow mail delivery. However, having a logical numbering system was not going to help unless there were street signs. Residents petitioned the county to provide the signs, but this was not a top priority for them.

Therefore, residents on each street took it upon themselves to create their own street signs. Walt Thomas, who owned the Beach Hardware, provided the boards and the paint, and volunteers from each street took the boards home and hand painted a sign for their street.

Eventually, the signs were put up, a logical numbering system was installed, and mail was finally delivered to the houses. In many ways, they were better off than we are today.

Tale of Two Storms: Ian and Donna

Wed, 28 Dec 2022 17:37:39 GMT

Times Square after Ian. Every business on the gulf was wiped out.

“Mobile homes, boats, washing machines, parts of roofs and walls and dining room sets were scattered through miles of mangrove jungles lining Estero Bay. Some residents who built their homes on the ground level saw water levels as high as five feet on their living room walls. In some spots along the bay, mangled boats were piled on top of one another or sunk beneath the waves with only their bows or sterns visible. The crushing winds toppled virtually every tree.

About five frame cottages had been swept into the Gulf. The driveway was blocked by a house that had been blown there from across the highway.

For week’s after the storm, hundreds of men and women were digging out and repairing homes and businesses up and down the island, some with shovels, others with chainsaws plugged into gas powered generators. Seven days a week, the grinding noise of machinery droned on, making the beach sound like one giant factory.”

Does this sound familiar? This was written by long time beach resident and News-Press reporter, Lee Melsek in 1991 as he was reflecting on a Hurricane that wiped out Fort Myers Beach in 1960. The headline said it all: Donna’s fury unimaginable. 1960 hurricane came close to washing away Fort Myers Beach. I found this article while going through some Christmas decorations, and it brought back memories of September 10, 1960. In his article, Melsek reflects on his experiences before, during, and after the storm. This story could have been written today.

When Donna hit in 1960, buildings were damaged but not completely destroyed.

I was quite young on September 10, 1960, but I do remember this storm well, and I have written about my experience in other blog postings. This time, I wanted to examine what life was like on the island in the 1950s and 1960s and draw some comparisons to what we are going through right now.

Obviously, life on FMB was quite different in the 1950s and 60s than it is today. In 1950, the population in all of Lee County was less than 25,000. Cape Coral had yet to be developed, and less than 1,000 people lived on the island full time in the 50s (this increased to about 2400 in the 60s). These were mostly business owners, fishermen, and shrimpers.

The 1950s were a quiet decade for major storms. Although tropical storm Hazel came ashore with 60 mile an hour winds, little damage was done to the island except for the destruction of Netties bar, a popular hangout near what was once the Gulf Shore Grill and later Shuckers and the Cottage.

This is San Carlos Blvd after Donna.

On September 2, 1960, all of that changed as Hurricane Donna formed in the North Atlantic. Donna traveled through the Antilles, passing Puerto Rico, and entering the Florida Straits by September 10. The center of the storm crossed over the middle Keys and came ashore near Bonita Springs bringing 138 mile an hour winds and 178 mph gusts. The storm surge on the island was 11 feet.

In 1960, the island was not nearly as developed as it is today. There were three restaurants, four motels, one gas station, and one grocery store (Melsek). There were no condos. The south end of the island was nothing more than sand dunes, sandspurs, and sea oats.

Donna’s path was different than Ian’s path.

Most of the homes on the island were built on pilings. Natives knew the damage a storm surge could do to ground level buildings, and they were amazed when a developer began to build concrete homes on the ground level in a subdivision known as Laguna Shores. Melsek states, “Predictably, those homes were the homes that got soaked when Donna blew the Gulf and bay right into their living rooms.”

Houses were damaged during Donna. During Ian they were blown away.

Coming onto the island after the storm was something I will never forget. Newspapers across the country were reporting that Fort Myers Beach had been “blown off the map.” With no telephone service available, I remember my parents being concerned about our relatives in New Jersey thinking we might be dead.

The town was not literally “blown off the map” but the damage was extensive. After Donna, FMB did not see another major Hurricane until Charlie made a sudden turn into Southwest Florida in 2001. Although Charlie did damage on the island, the destruction was not nearly as widespread as Donna or Ian. Even Irma which hit the Naples area spared the island major destruction. By far, the two hurricanes that will always be remembered are Donna and Ian.

Red Coconut suffered damage during Donna but nothing compared to Ian. Trailers were turned over and moved around but were not completely gone.

Many parallels can be drawn between these two storms separated by over 60 years. Since 1960, the population of the island has more than doubled, and the number of homes, restaurants, marinas, and condos, has increased dramatically. The storm surge from Ian is said to be up to 20 feet in some areas which is more than Donna’s ten foot surge.

This is the front row at Red Coconut after Donna.

One common thread between the two storms is the residents themselves and how they have dealt with the destruction. Melsek states, “In taverns along Estero Boulevard, men wondered in and out raising toasts to survival as they took breaks from the cleanup work. They passed along information on the location of generators, ice, shelters, and other valuable commodities needed immediately to house and feed the homeless and continue the task of rebuilding.”

This is happening today on the island as people are coming together to help each other and support the beach.

Melsek ends his article by quoting another beach native, Charlie Green, who said, “There was a real sense of community. Nobody in those days got upset about storms. They just pitched in and helped get ready for them and then helped fix up after it was over. Most people today have no idea what it was like then, or what it will be like when the next big one comes along.”

The “next big one” has come to our island, and I feel confident that beach residents will continue to work together as we rebuild our island paradise just as we did in 1960.

Surviving Ian: Historic Cottages Still Standing

Thu, 27 Oct 2022 15:59:31 GMT

Although it was not easy, thanks to Jon Bloch of Spartan Blue Knights, a couple of board members were able to take a peek inside the Estero Island Historic Society Museum located at the end of Bay Road.

First, we had to park on School Street since Bay Road is not accessible. We found our way through the debris only to find a displaced home in front of our property.

After getting up to this point, we realized that it would be difficult to go any further without help. That help arrived when Jon Bloch volunteered to “cut us a path” to the cottage. Bloch is with Spartan Blue Knights, a demolition company that is working on the schools.

Jon was able to remove some of the debris that was making it impossible to access the stairs to the museum.

This piece of the house was making it difficult to enter the building.

It did not take long for the removal.

This is a shot as you enter the museum. Originally, this was the porch on Davison’s cottage.

Once we got inside the cottage, we were pleasantly surprised. Of course, there was damage, but many of our displays were still in place. It looked like the water rose to almost six feet in some places. There was dried mud on the floor and waterlines on the walls.

The office was trashed but some of the books on the top shelf survived.

It looks like we will need a new fridge.

Some of our display cases somehow survived the storm surge.

Thankfully, the gator head survived.

The history of FMB display seems to be in decent shape.

After checking out the museum, we decided to try our luck in the Annex. The Annex houses our achieves, and we were anxious to see how much survived.

When we finally made it to the Annex door, we could not enter because the lock was frozen and the key would not go in. We will try again at a later date.

All in all, it was a successful morning. There is quite a bit of work to be done. Not much will happen until the debris is cleared. Lee County owns the land where the cottages are located but the Historic Society is responsible for the buildings. We could not get the cottages insured, so we will need to find funding for the repairs and renovations that will need to be done.

The “We’re Here” cottage was one of the first cottages built on the island. The original cottage was built in 1921 and was located on the beach at the end of Mango Street. When the 1944 hurricane hit Fort Myers Beach, the cottage was damaged. Fortunately, the Davisons were able to save all of the original materials and rebuilt the cottage where it was enjoyed by five generations of the Davison family. For many years, the cottage served as home of the San Castle Kindergarten until it was relocated from Mango Street to Bay Road to become the home of the newly formed Estero Island Historic Society.

This is the original cottage when it was located on Mango Street.

This second cottage on our campus was the “Laughing Gull” cottage originally built as a beachside rental on Seaview Avenue and fondly remembered as the “Pink Palace” by those who vacationed there. It was relocated in 2002 to serve as the Library and Board Room to the Estero Island Historic Society.

The Estero Island Historic Society is a 503 (c) nonprofit organization dedicated to preserving our island’s history. We are committed to rebuilding and reopening as soon as is practical. We will keep you posted on our progress and will be asking for donations once we have a better idea of the cost for repairs.

Keeping the Faith: Island Churches Suffer Damage

Sun, 16 Oct 2022 17:54:55 GMT

This is the original Chapel By The Sea sanctuary

After driving down Estero Blvd this week, I noticed that my goal to write about lost icons on the island was going to be a large undertaking since so many buildings were destroyed in the storm. To me, it was heartbreaking to view the damage done to our island’s churches. I find it amazing that on a seven-mile-long island, we had all the major Christian denominations represented. The damage done to all the churches is extensive. Here is a brief look at the growth of religious institutions on FMB.

This is the sanctuary of Chapel today.

Before 1938, religious gatherings were held at the Red Coconut Pavilion as well as at different homes and school rooms on the island. On Palm Sunday, 1938, Chapel by the Sea held their first service in a small building on Chapel Street. The final worship service in the original church was held on Palm Sunday, 1984 and the new church building was dedicated on Palm Sunday, 1985.Chapel was damaged when Hurricane Charley hit the island causing $1.5 million in damages. Although the structure is still standing, all the walls are gone as you can see by the picture above.

St. Raphael’s Episcopal Church is the oldest church building on the island.

St. Raphael’s began building their church on Williams Drive in 1951 and the cornerstone was laid in 1953. First services were held in January 1954. Prior to that services were held in the Estero Manufacturing Company and the Community Center near the Hurricane Pass Bridge. St. Raphael’s is well known for their famous shrimp rolls and shrimp dinners. For many years, the church sponsored the Blessing of the Fleet as part of the Annual Shrimp Festival. Located in a quiet neighborhood off Williams Drive, the church building has been designated as an historic structure by the town. Although the church building is still standing, the storm surge caused the doors to cave in and over five feet of water entered the sanctuary. The insides of the church, the parish hall, and the rectory were inundated by the salt water and will require quite a bit of restoration.

Although the building is still standing, the interior of the church suffered damage from the storm surge.

The Beach Methodist Church also began holding services in the 50s meeting in the home of Art and Mabel Reckwerdt. When the congregation outgrew the home, they moved to the American Legion even meeting for a time in the old Beach Theater. The sanctuary was dedicated in the 1960s, adding the education building in 1985. Today, the building still stands on Bay Road but the extent of damage to the interior has not yet been determined.

The First Baptist Church held services at the Beach Community Hall until they purchased property at the end of Connecticut and constructed the first building in 1958. Additions were made to the original building in the 1980s (as far as I could tell from the tax records), and the new sanctuary was added in the 1990s.

The Baptist church sponsors the popular Farmer’s Market which is held during the season as well as the food pantry for the island. The church building was destroyed in the storm.

In 1953, the first Catholic mass was held in the dining room of the San Carlos Inn. The parish purchased 21 acres of land from Leroy Lamoreaux on Estero, and in 1955, services were held in the original structure in the 1960s. The sanctuary was enlarged in the 1980s and the new building opened in the 1990s.

This is the Church of the Ascension before the storm.

The congregation of St. Peters was organized in 1968. Ground was broken on the building in 1971 and the first service in the sanctuary was held in 1972. As the congregation grew, plans were made for building a new sanctuary. Ground was broken in 1991 and eight months later, services were held in the new building.

Like many of the churches on Estero, St. Peters suffered quite a bit of damage.

Although the storm has destroyed the buildings, many of the churches are still offering services online and are communicating with their congregations to help them through these unusual times.

Hymnal found on the grounds of St. Raphaels.

Statue of St. Raphael still stands.

Save Our School

Wed, 05 Oct 2022 20:56:11 GMT

Tomorrow at 6 PM at Skip One Seafood, there will be a meeting to discuss the future of the Beach School. This school has been an integral part of our community since 1937. I attended the Beach School in the late 50s. My children attended the Beach School in the 90s. My mother taught at the Beach School for many years. My daughter did her teaching internship at the Beach School. The Beach School is a very special place, and it needs to be available for future generations of beach kids to attend.

This is the second Beach School on Sterling Street.

Over the last 80 years, the number of children who have benefitted from this island school is in the thousands. The school is the heart of the community, and all of the beach kids have fond memories of the years they spent learning the basics and preparing them for a successful transition to the “big school” in town.

Prior to 1937, children on the island were bussed to the Iona School on McGregor. Thanks to many dedicated mothers, the first beach school opened in the Mayhew Page cottage at 2563 Cottage Street. One teacher oversaw the 27 first, second, and third grade children. She was paid $80 a month by the school board. Parents took donations to pay for rental of the cottage, which was still standing before Ian (it is no longer there). In 1938, a two-room schoolhouse was built on Sterling Street. Another teacher was added to the school which now housed grades one to six. When the population of the island increased during World War II, a lunchroom was added behind the school which also served as an additional classroom. In 1943 another teacher was added, and by 1949, the old school closed, and the new school opened on School Street.

The first teachers were also bus drivers, cooks, and janitors.

The original building had six classrooms, and a large auditorium with a stage. In 1955 a cafeteria was added as well as an administration office and additional classrooms.

This is the third Beach School opened in 1949.

Growing up on the island, the school was a gathering place for families. I can still remember the names of each teacher I had for the six years I spent at the Beach School. My mother was the “permanent substitute” at the school for many years, and I was lucky enough to get to know some of these dedicated educators on a personal level.

When my children attended the school in the 1990s, I realized that little had changed. The school was still a special place with a hometown feel. Everyone knew each other and it was like a private school. I was thrilled when my daughter was in Winnie Yordy’s class. I was in her class when she was a first or second year teacher. Angie was in her class as she was looking towards retirement.

The school has seen damage from the storm.

In its heyday, the school housed over 300 students. The population has decreased since the cost of living on the island has become out of reach for many young parents. However, we should not assume this decline will continue. We have many Beach School alumni who have settled here. They are now becoming parents, and their children need the Beach School as much as their parents did back in the day.

Water and wind damage to the classrooms.

As of this posting, the future of Beach Elementary remains uncertain. If you have ever attended the Beach School or care about its future, please plan to attend the meeting tomorrow at Skip One at 6:00 PM.

Memories of Red Coconut and Gulf View -Two More Lost Icons of FMB

Mon, 03 Oct 2022 18:11:16 GMT

This is a picture of me, my dad, and my uncle enjoying happy hour at the red coconut in the 1950s.

Red Coconut RV Park was my home for the first 14 years of my life. We were living there when Donna hit in 1960. Over the years, we would take our RVs to Red Coconut for weekend getaways even though our home was less than three miles away.

Although the gulf front property where Red Coconut is located was platted and surveyed in 1898, the trailer park was not established until the 1920s. Dr. Virgil Voorhis purchased the property for his trailer park and built a pavilion in 1932. The “Club House” was first used as a voting precinct, and later as a spiritual gathering place since there was no church on the island at that time. Later Voorhis conducted bingo games to raise money for the first one room beach school which opened in 1937.

We came to Red Coconut in 1953 with a 40-foot trailer that was placed on the front row. This was a time when many people came to the island and needed a place to stay, so they brought trailers and set up camp. Dozens of families were living full time at the park through the 50s and 60s. The park was managed by the Reasoners who also owned the Pelican Hotel (more on this in a later post).

Over the years, there were always rumors of someone purchasing the property and putting in more condos. Luckily, Tom and Fran Myers took ownership and continued to keep the park open so others could create memories there as well.

Directly across from Red Coconut was the Gulf View Shop, which was opened in 1946 by Ruth and Jeff Brame. When we were living at Red Coconut, the Gulf View was a great place to get ice cream, hot dogs, and anything else we might need. I remember every day after school, we would go to Gulf View, and sit at their lunch counter where we would drink soda and eat chips while reading comics. The Ayres owned the shop at this time, and they would let us kids sit there and read the comics for free whenever we needed something to do. Even after we moved out of the park, Gulf View was still the go to place for bathing suits and gifts.

Gulf View was the go to place for ice cream back in the day. I am here with two friends who are still on the island today.

More recently, the old Gulf View building housed a couple of restaurants, a beauty shop, and an ice cream shop. It will be missed.

Tubing Down the River

Tue, 09 Aug 2022 19:14:19 GMT

Ichetucknee Springs

Most people who visit Florida tend to flock to the coast where they can enjoy the beaches and swim in either the Gulf of Mexico or the Atlantic Ocean. However, in the middle of the summer, neither the gulf nor the ocean will provide much relief from the heat. The best places to cool off on those hot summer days are the springs.

Florida is the home to many beautiful natural springs where the water is always a cool 72 degrees. A couple of weeks ago, we visited Crystal River, and I wrote about Kings Bay and the different springs we visited in that area. This weekend, we traveled a little farther north to a small town called Fort White where eight major springs meet to form the Ichetucknee River, one of the best springs in the state.

Brief History

Let’s begin with a brief history lesson. Nearly 14,000 years ago, Florida’s climate was much cooler and drier than it is today. There were not many water sources at that time. The springs began as limestone basins and were nothing more than non-flowing pools where animals came to drink. The early Indians came to the water holes to hunt and drink the water.

The water table rose as the climate warmed. Eventually, the spring pools overflowed their banks covering the land. This was the birth of the spring runs and rivers. The natives used these new water routes for transportation. Archaeologists have discovered many artifacts on the banks of the Ichetucknee River leading them to hypothesize that this was an important canoe port at one time.

In the 1500s, the Timucua Indians built a village along the river, and in the 1600s, the Franciscan missionaries established missions in the same area. In the mid-1700s, the Creek Indians came to Florida from Georgia and Alabama. One village was established near the mouth of the Ichetucknee. They named the river Ichetucknee which meant “place of the beavers.”

In the 1800s travelers on the historic Bellamy Road, would stop by Ichetucknee Springs to rest and drink the water. Later, a gristmill and general store popped up at Mill Pond Spring. In the late 1890s and early 1900s, this area became ground zero for the Florida Phosphate industry. Later, sawmills and turpentine operations replaced phosphate mining and from the turn of the century to the 1940s, cypress and pine forests were harvested for lumber.

For many decades, the springs of the Ichetucknee have been a favorite place for locals to gather for picnics, family reunions, and even baptisms. In the 1950s and 60s, the Loncala Phosphate Company owned the land surrounding the springs. At this time, people discovered tubing, and college students from UF would spend weekends partying and floating down the river on tubes.

Loncala allowed the students and other visitors to use the river for recreation, but the popularity of the river soon overwhelmed the natural resources. In 1970, Loncala sold the property to the state to be turned into a state park where the fragile ecosystem could be protected. The state cleaned up the river and in 1972, the river and springs were declared a National Natural Landmark.

Our Visit

Moonshine Acres was a great place to set up camp.

We decided to make this our last summer excursion (not counting Labor Day in the Keys) with the family. None of us had ever been here before, and we really had no idea what to expect. We read all the blogs and reviews but were still unprepared for what awaited us when we arrived.

It was about a five-hour trip in the motor home, making a few stops for food and supplies. We arrived at our campground about two miles from the entrance to the spring. The state park does not have camping, so we had to find a private campground close by. Moonshine Acres fit the bill nicely, and we set up camp and began to plan our adventure.

The information we were reading about what was and was not allowed on the river was a bit confusing. We have all kinds of floatation devices (paddleboards, kayaks, rafts, inflatable boats, etc) but we left them home because most of the reviews mentioned renting tubes from the general store at the park. This seemed like the best way to go.

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We got to the park at 10:00 and found a long line of cars waiting to get in. We paid $6.00 per person and entered the park. When we pulled into the first parking lot, we were shocked at the number of cars and lines of people everywhere. The line to buy tickets for the tram (to take us back to the parking lot after tubing down the river) and rent the tubes was at least 100 people deep.

After finally finding a parking spot, we stood in line to purchase the tram tickets and rent the tubes. This took about 30 minutes. We then made our way over to the tube line which was even longer than the ticket line. It took about an hour before we got the tubes and headed to the spring.

Two different starting points are available year-round for tubing down the river. One is Midpoint and the other is Dampier’s Landing. The line for the tram to take us to Midpoint was very long and was not moving very quickly. Dampier’s Landing was a short walk down to the river. Having already spent nearly two hours in lines, we opted to launch at Dampier’s Landing.

The float from Dampier’s Landing to the takeout point would take about an hour. If we had opted to launch from Midpoint, we would have added an hour to the float, but we could have gotten off at Dampier’s landing.

The Float Begins

Relaxing on the river

We got on the tubes without any trouble and began our journey. My daughter, Angie, and her husband, Nic, had double tubes so each could have a child. My husband, Bob, and I opted for single tubes. We were able to tie the tubes together even though we forgot the bungee cords in the car.

The trip down river was worth the wait. The current was just enough to keep us moving, but not strong enough to lose control. The river was packed with people in tubes, on paddle boards, in kayaks, and inflatable boats. We grabbed two paddles when we rented the tubes, and they really came in handy to keep us from running into trees and other objects along the riverbank.

Despite the crowds, the people were extremely polite and friendly. At one point, a fellow tuber hit a tree and tipped over. Although he was wearing a life jacket, he could not swim and was beginning to panic as the life vest was not properly fitted and his head was going under the water. Angie and another tuber jumped into the river and helped him to the bank where he was able to calm down and get back onto the raft.

Wading birds were just one of the many creatures we saw on our trip down the river.

Another time, our rafts were caught in some branches and another person who was swimming down the river helped pull us back into the middle where we caught the current again. We floated for about an hour and a half before we reached the takeout point. The ride was worth all the waiting and planning. The water was refreshing, and the scenery was beautiful with Cypress trees, wading birds, and the endangered Ichetucknee siltsnail. We got to the takeout point and disembarked from the tubes with no trouble. The line for the tram back to the parking lot, however, was very long and was not moving at all.

When we learned we could leave the tubes at the landing and walk the 9/10 of a mile back to the parking lot, we jumped on it. The walk was along a path next to the road, and it took us about twenty minutes to get back to our car.

Cypress Trees lined the riverbank

Lessons Learned

As mentioned, you can rent tubes at the park, but you can also bring your own tubes if they don’t exceed 60 inches in any two directions.

If we had brought our own tubes, we could have saved time and money. It cost $100 to rent four tubes and pay for the tram ride back to the park from the end of the spring. Only 3,000 tubes a day are allowed to use the midpoint launch. You can access the launch by walking .65 miles from the south parking lot (which we did not know). The run lasts around 45 minutes to an hour and you end up at Dampier’s Landing where you can get off or continue tubing for another hour.

We really did not know how far the Midpoint Launch was from the park, so we decided to launch from Dampier’s Landing. I think next time we might try walking the .65 miles to the midpoint launch and end up at Dampier’s Landing. Then, if we wanted a longer ride, we could continue to the end. When we left the park around 1:00, it was closed because of the large number of visitors. There was a line of cars parked along the road outside of the park waiting to get in.

After speaking with the locals back at the campground, we learned that this was the busiest weekend of the year because school starts next week. Next time, we will visit after school starts and on a weekday.

Tips For Your Trip

Bring water shoes because the bottom of the river is filled with sharp rocks and other debris.
No plastic bottles are allowed on the river so bring water in an environmentally friendly bottle.
Anyone who is not a good swimmer should wear a life jacket and make sure it is secured correctly.
Use ropes or bungee cords to link your tubes together.
Bring a paddle of some kind to help steer the tubes.
Consider walking to the Midpoint Launch (.65 of a mile) carrying your tube or take the tram if the wait is not too long.
Launch at Midpoint and float to Dampier’s Landing.
Take a break at Dampier’s Landing and have a picnic or an ice cream cone at the general store.
Then, if you feel energetic, put the tubes back in and float down the river for another hour or so.
You can take the tram back if it is not crowded or you can walk the 9/10 of a mile back to the parking lot.

Rollin on the River

Wed, 27 Jul 2022 19:21:05 GMT

A short paddle up the river to Three Sisters Springs

By the end of July in Southwest Florida, I am ready to cool down. With the gulf temperatures hovering in the low 90s and the air temperature above 100, this is not an easy task. Therefore, we decided to head north in search of cooler waters.

Crystal River is a city located on Kings Bay on the Nature Coast of Florida. Kings Bay is fed by 70 first-magnitude springs which discharge about 600 million gallons of water each day, making Crystal River Springs the second largest spring in the state right behind Wakulla Springs near Tallahassee. During the winter when the gulf water cools, over 400 manatees come into Kings Bay to keep warm in the 72 degree spring fed waters.

The water surrounding Parker’s Island was cool and clear.

Although we only saw two manatees, we had a great time exploring the bay, diving the springs, and floating around Parker Island. The Crystal River National Wildlife Refuge is made up of twenty islands in and around Kings Bay. The 80-acre refuge is accessible only by boat and was established in 1983 to protect the manatees. Parker Island is just one of the many islands in the bay where people congregate with their boats to swim, snorkel, or just enjoy floating in the cool waters.

While swimming around Parker Island, this guy came to visit, cruising right beside us.

For me, the highlight of the day was visiting Three Sister Springs. I remember coming here back in the late 70s when we were getting certified to SCUBA dive. We did a night dive at one of the springs (can’t remember which one) and then spent the next day exploring the area in a rented john boat. I remember going to Three Sister Springs and taking pictures. Back then, the spring seemed to be in the middle of nowhere. There were no other boats and few homes along the way.

FWC photo by Karen Parker creative commons

Today, however, the area has really developed. Dozens of people in kayaks, floats, and paddleboards were leaving the marinas and paddling the mile or so upriver to the springs. You are no longer allowed to take a motorboat into the spring area, so we parked along the shore and swam into the spring.

Jumping into the 72-degree water was a shock, but once I got used to it, I was hooked. We swam into the stream where we saw a baby manatee just resting on the bottom of the spring. Three Sisters Spring is a natural inlet on the eastern side of Kings Bay. The springs contain many sand boils and vents which are fun to explore. The only access to the spring is by swimming or paddling a kayak or paddleboard. Many people were just floating in tubes.

After spending the day on King’s Bay, we returned to our campsite to prepare for our scalloping trip the next day. More on that in another posting.

Swamp Fever at Babcock Ranch

Mon, 17 Jan 2022 19:28:21 GMT

We spent the morning taking the Eco Tour at Babcock Ranch. Although I have been living in SW Florida for over 60 years, this was my first trip to the ranch. We had a wonderful time going through the swamps and prairie land which I will discuss later. As expected, when I got home, I had to do some research into the history of this ranch.

The name Babcock is well known in Southwest Florida, but I knew nothing about the family who started it all. After a little research, I learned that the patriarch of the family, Edward Vose Babcock Sr, was born on a farm in Oswego County New York in 1864. He started the Babcock Lumber Company when he was only 23.

In 1911, Edward Babcock first came to Southwest Florida to look for undeveloped land. Three years later, he purchased the 91,000 acre Crescent B Ranch from the Perry McAdow family, changing the name to the Babcock Ranch. The land was rich in timber and was perfect for raising cattle.

Babcock’s son, Fred, was a chip off the old block, and was put to work on the ranch at the age of 12. He worked closely with his father learning every aspect of the business. Fred graduated from Dartmouth with a degree in economic geography. Eventually, he took over the ranch where he diversified into vegetable and tree farming, logging, cattle and bison ranching, limestone mining, swamp buggy tours and hunting leases (News-Press).

Like his father, Fred was also an environmentalist who kept more than two-thirds of the ranch in its native state. He planned his farming operation so that wildlife and cattle were protected. Fred loved the land and wanted to see it preserved for future generations.

In 1997, Fred died, and his heirs began discussions to sell the property to the state. Talks did not go well, and in 2005, the family began taking offers from private buyers. In 2006, Kitson and Partners purchased the ranch’s 156,000 acres. They then turned around and sold 80 percent of the ranch lands to the state of Florida and Lee County. This preserved more than 73,000 acres of the most environmentally valuable parts of the ranch.

Kitson continued to manage the preserve for the state until 2015 when the Tarpon Blue Land and Resource Management company took over. The preserve is dedicated to protecting water resources, diverse natural habitats, and historic resources. Including a diverse ecosystems of pine flatwoods and cypress swaps, the preserve is home to many different species of wildlife including gators, wild turkey, feral hogs, deer, and a wide range of bird species.

Today, the preserve is open to the public and offers hunting, hiking, wildlife viewing, bicycling, fishing, and camping.

We took the swamp buggy eco-tour which was a 90 minute guided tour through the working cattle ranch and the ranch’s diverse ecosystems. Our guide was very knowledgeable as he took us through the history of the ranch as well as showing off the wildlife. We saw wild turkeys, sand hill cranes, wild hogs, many gators, and water birds to name a few.

Baby Gator

Dane had a great time.

What’s In a Name? From Crescent Beach to Fort Myers Beach

Thu, 24 Jun 2021 15:45:51 GMT

What’s in a name? According to Shakespeare, “That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.” It wasn’t that easy for the early developers of Fort Myers Beach. In the 1920s, Estero Island was known as “Crescent Beach.” The name was a logical choice because the island is, indeed, shaped like a crescent.

Seminole Sands Casino was one of several resorts that were operating on the island during the 1920s Boom.

However, at some point in 1921 when developers were busy building casinos, bathhouses, hotels, and other entertainment enterprises, the name Crescent Beach became a hot topic of discussion. Reading the mailbag in the News-Press during 1921, I saw many letters to the editor discussing the new name for Estero Island. After doing some research, I finally discovered why the name was changed.

Once a bridge that could carry cars onto the island was opened, the development of hotels and casinos began in earnest.

The name Crescent Beach became an issue when the mail service to the island became a regular occurrence. Since there was already a Crescent Beach in the Tampa/St. Petersburg area, letters addressed to residents of Crescent Beach quite often ended up being delivered to the “other” Crescent Beach. Likewise, letters addressed to residents of the Crescent Beach up state were delivered to the post office on the island where they would need to be returned to senders.

Obviously, this was very confusing. Through my research, I learned that it is ok to have towns with the same name in different states, but there should be no towns with the same name in the same state.

One of the first restaurants on the beach was Nettie’s Place located near the Gulf Shore Inn (The Cottage)

Thus began the dilemma of finding a new name for Estero Island. As you can imagine, this created quite a controversy in Fort Myers as well as on the island. This was the beginning of the 1920s “boom.” Many people were investing heavily in the development of the island as a “tropical resort” and a “beach paradise.” Hotels and casinos were sprouting up on the beach, a new road from Fort Myers was being built, and the island finally had a real bridge so cars could drive onto the island. Prior to this the only way to access the island was to drive down McGregor to what is now John Morris road and follow the shoreline to the foot of the bridge (near Bonita Bills). At this point, passengers had to leave their cars and take a barge across the bay where they would be dropped off at Snug Harbor and walk to the beach from there.

With the opening of the new road and bridge , the developers were busy promoting the island nationwide. Changing the name from Crescent Beach was going to affect these promotions.

One of the most well known of these developers was Captain Jack DeLysle who was building a modern casino, bath house, cottages, and hotel at the end of Connecticut. He chose the name Wonder Beach for his new development and was promoting it as a name to replace Crescent Beach.

Unfortunately, the name Wonder Beach did not provide a positive connotation for the new resort. To many, it sounded cheap and reminded people of Coney Island. DeLysle hired a marketing expert to help come up with a new name for his casino. After doing much research, Seminole Sands was chosen as the name to replace Wonder Beach.

Although DeLysle would have loved it if Seminole Sands become the new name for the island as well, it was not to be. Many different names were discussed (Crystal Beach, Carlos Beach, Matanzas Beach, Lee Beach, Gasparilla Beach, Gulf on Estero Island, and finally Fort Myers Beach).

Many of those who lived on the island and were involved in its development were not thrilled with the name Fort Myers Beach. Back in those days, the residents of Fort Myers viewed the island as their “asset” and “playground.” They would come on weekends to party and then return home. Some would buy lots and build cottages, but they would only be used during the summer and would be rented out in the winter. Island residents wanted to have a name that reflected the many wonderful attributes of the island rather than a moniker that reflected its relationship with the town of Fort Myers.

I really couldn’t pinpoint how or why Fort Myers Beach was chosen as the name, but by May 1921, all references to Crescent Beach or Wonder Beach were removed from the paper and any story about the island used the name Fort Myers Beach.

Even as I was growing up in the 50s and 60s, some residents were still pushing to change the name to Estero Island and get rid of the Fort Myers moniker for good.

Fort Myers Beach History Spotlight: Hugh McPhie

Tue, 08 Jun 2021 15:50:40 GMT

This is the first in a series of stories I plan to publish celebrating the individuals that have shaped our island’s history over the past 200 years.

This is a typical homesteader’s cottage in the late 1800s on Fort Myers Beach.

For the most part, in the late 1800s, Fort Myers Beach was uninhabited except for a few brave souls who decided to take advantage of the Homestead Act of 1862. This act allowed the head of a family (or any person over the age of 21), to claim as much as 160 acres of public land. In order get a title to the property, the homesteader had to live on the land (called “proving the claim”) and cultivate it for five years.

It took until 1875 for the island to be platted which enabled the deeding of properties. Therefore, those few people who lived on the island prior to 1875 were not legal homesteaders; rather they were referred to as “squatters.” However, if a person were to live on a property for six months, he or she could pay cash for the land and receive a title. The going price at in the 1870s was $1.25 per acre.

Most homesteaders who lived on the island built primitive palm-thatched log homes (cheekees). They were isolated from the mainland, since the first bridge to the beach was not completed until 1921. Because the island was made up of thick patches of saw palmettos and mangroves, there were no roads, and the only way to get around was by horse or boat.

When the early homesteaders lived on the island, they were surrounded by saw palmettos, oak trees, and mangroves.

One of the earliest homesteaders on the island was a man named Hugh McPhie. He arrived in America from Scotland in the late 1880s and, in 1899, McPhie was granted the third patent on the island homesteading 112 acres running from Flamingo Street to Fairview Isles (the first patent went to Robert Gilbert, and the second to Albert Austin). In 1907, McPhie proved his second claim which ran from Aberdeen Street to Avenida Pescadora and to the end of Seminole Way.

According to Jean Matthew, in her book, We Never Wore Shoes, McPhie was considered the “island hermit” back in the 1920s and 1930s. McPhie’s story is a tragic one. He left Scotland after his wife died in an epidemic leaving his two young sons to live with his sister. His original plan was to come to America, find a new wife, and then send for his children.

Eventually, McPhie discovered Fort Myers Beach which was the perfect place to be alone in his grief. Matthew reports that, “Hugh lived alone in a fishing shack near the south end and managed to cultivate a garden and catch enough fish to make out a living.” The old McPhie homesite was situated in a beautiful coconut grove just south of what is now the Outrigger Hotel.

Since there were no stores on the island at that time, when he needed supplies, McPhie would row his boat over to Sanibel where there was a small store and a post office.

McPhie loved living on the island and resented the “development” that he thought would ruin the life he knew so well. For many years, he refused to give in to developers who were trying to purchase his land. However, in 1938 he finally surrendered and developed a tract of land known as McPhie Park (from Aberdeen Street to Avenida Pescadora and to the end of Seminole Way).

According to Rolfe Schell in his book, History of Fort Myers Beach, McPhie held on to his properties longer than any of the other early homesteaders. At one time, during the 1920s real estate boom, McPhie was offered half a million dollars for his land, but he turned it down. He cared more about the land than he did the money. Once he subdivided McPhie Park, he sold many lots in the park and most of his original homestead for forty thousand dollars (Schell).

Shortly after selling off some of his land, McPhie returned to his home country for the first time in 50 years to find his sons had grown up and were now old men like him. McPhie only stayed in Scotland a few weeks. His sister came to live with him once he made improvements to his shack. She stayed with him until 1942 when he was found dead on the beach. His homesite was destroyed in the 1944 hurricane.

The Galloway Murders Shocked the Beach in 1953

Sun, 09 May 2021 16:15:01 GMT

On September 2, 1953, Ted “Carl” Smiddy was hitchhiking near Atlanta, Georgia shortly after being released from jail in Tennessee for breaking and entering and larceny. Smiddy was only 16 years old when he was picked up by Ernest Walter Moore, a convicted murderer who served ten years in an Ohio State prison before being paroled. Moore presented himself as a professional gambler. He showed Smiddy a wad of cash and promised him a job when they got to Miami. Smiddy gladly accepted the ride and was impressed by his new found friend.

The duo began their trip South making Jacksonville their first stop. They began their crime spree by robbing a Jacksonville motel of about $7.00. Continuing south to St. Augustine, the pair robbed a house where they stole some jewelry and clothing. When they arrived in Miami, the men broke into another house and stole a .32 caliber automatic. Moore and Smiddy left Miami and headed for the West Coast where they ended up on Fort Myers Beach.

While Moore and Smiddy were making their way to Estero Island, Jim and Mary Galloway were enjoying a quiet evening at home. The Galloways had recently built a home on the beach front in the newly developed Island Shores subdivision at the north end of the island (near Bowditch today). In 1953, the beach front houses were few and far between, which was the main reason that the murderers chose to rob the Galloway house on the evening of September 5.

Photo of Jim and Mary Galloway at the Mermaid Bar

Jim and Mary were a very well known couple on the island. In 1948 the Galloways came to the Beach from Detroit. They loved the island and soon opened the Mermaid Club, which became a popular local watering hole. Originally, the Mermaid Club was located on Estero Blvd where the Whale restaurant is presently located, right across from the Surf Club which was built a couple years later. Jim and Mary Galloway were very involved with the community as Jim was chairman of the anti-incorporation committee, and Mary was a correspondent for the News-Press.

When Jim Galloway heard a knock on his door that September evening, he probably did not think twice before he opened the door. After all, Fort Myers Beach was a safe, quiet island, far from the crimes of a larger city. Unfortunately, when the door was opened, Moore put a gun in Galloway’s face and took his wallet. He made Galloway sit in a chair where he tied him up and hit him over the head with a large whiskey bottle.

To imagine how deserted the beach front was in 1953, take a look at Estero Blvd looking north in front of what is now Ohio Street.

Smiddy, in the meantime, was frightened by what Moore was doing, so he was hiding behind the door when he heard Mary Galloway’s scream followed by a gunshot. After killing Jim and Mary, Moore told Smiddy to go to the car. Moore then went to Galloway’s private bar and had a few drinks before he splashed gas all over the house and set it on fire. The murderers took off in a stolen car with $81.00.

What happened next was pure luck. As Moore and Smiddy were heading to Fort Myers, Russell Garris, a Florida State Trooper, noticed a car with a broken headlight. Garris pulled the car over for what he thought was a normal traffic stop. However, as soon as he got out of his patrol car, Moore jumped out of his car and started shooting at Garris who took a bullet in the thigh before be got off six shots, hitting Moore in the chest and head. Smiddy, meanwhile, was once again hiding in the front seat of the car.

Moore was taken to Lee Memorial Hospital and died two hours later. Smiddy was taken into custody where he told the police that Moore had given him a .38 caliber gun and told him to start shooting; however, Smiddy refused to take the gun and hunkered down in the car while Moore and Garris exchanged gunfire.

At the time of the incident, the police were unaware of the connection between these men and the Galloway murders and house fire. It did not take long, however, for Smiddy to confess to the Galloway murders as well.

Smiddy was tried twice in Lee County but was never convicted. The first trial was declared a mistrial when the jury could not reach a verdict. The second trial was also a mistrial when the attorneys could not agree on a jury. The case was then moved to Sarasota where the jury deliberated for over five hours before handing down two verdicts of manslaughter and sentenced Smiddy to two ten year sentences of hard labor at Raiford. Smiddy was transferred to the Apalachee Correctional Institute where he escaped in 1955. He turned himself in that same day and died in 1985.

Development Begins on FMB

Thu, 28 May 2020 20:39:10 GMT

Opened in 1912, the Winkler Hotel was the first hotel on the island.

The early part of the 20th century brought more development as the first subdivisions were platted on Fort Myers Beach. H.C. Case platted the first of these subdivisions in 1911. Originally this was part of the Robert Gilbert homestead. Starting at Connecticut Street, the subdivision extended about three quarters of a mile both north and south.

At this time, Estero Boulevard was called Eucalyptus Avenue. This was a north-south shell road that ended at Connecticut. If you wanted to travel farther south, you would need to continue your journey on the beach.

Another five years passed before T.P. Hill subdivided a large tract started at Crescent Street and ending just south of Gulf Drive. The lots that were on the beach side of Estero were normal sized lots. However, the lots on the other side of the road were approximately 9-10 acres running from the street to the bay.

Land on the island in the 1900s was filled with brush and palmettos that were so thick no engineer would agree to complete an accurate survey because wading through the mangroves to accurately measure an acre of “cheap land” did not seem like a good idea.

Three years later, Seagrape Subdivision was put on the market. These lots were located on Mango and Avocado streets in 1919 (Avocado Street was renamed Chapel Street in 1952).

At this time, Crescent Beach (as it was called at that time) was becoming a popular destination for people living in town. In 1912 the Winkler Hotel was opened at the end of Pompano Street. At this time, the island was only accessible by boat. The guests would arrive by schooner and would dock at a pier on the gulf side in front of the hotel.

The Seminole Sands Casino was a popular destination on Fort Myers Beach.

In 1919, Captain Jack DeLysle arrived in Fort Myers and saw the potential in making Estero Island a tourist hot spot. DeLysle opened the Seminole Sands Casino and dance pavilion on the beach at Connecticut Street. The land boom of the 1920s had begun (stay tuned for more information on how this affected our island).

Early Settlers on Estero Island

Tue, 26 May 2020 20:46:12 GMT

For many years, Estero Island was home to Calusa Indians, Cuban Fishermen, Spanish Missionaries, and some say, pirates. It was not until the mid-1870s that the first family settled on Fort Myers Beach.

Sam Ellis, his wife, and his son, George Underhill, settled at the end of Connecticut Street where the Mound House now sits. Although Ellis and his family ended up moving to Sanibel where they homesteaded a track of land near Tarpon Bay, George’s son (also named George) returned to Fort Myers Beach where he raised his family.

The Homestead At of 1862 brought new settlers to the island. Intrigued by the idea of getting free land, the settlers came from all over the United States and Europe hoping to prove their claim by living on the land for five years, clearing it, farming it, and improving it.

When the first settlers came to Estero Island in the mid-1850s much of the island was a mangrove jungle filled with dense foliage.

Unfortunately, life on the island in those days was difficult, and many of these early settlers did not stay long enough to claim their land. Frank Johnson, however, managed to receive a patent including all of Mound Key issued in 1891. Three years later, Robert Gilbert received a patent on 171 acres starting near Bay Street and going to Bayland Ave. This area was located in the central part of the island and included the shell mound at the end of Connecticut where the Mound House now sits.

The second patent on the island was granted to James Bratt in 1895. Prior to 1895, the area presently known as Bowditch Point was called the government lighthouse reservation. Bratt was a doctor from New York who was one of the few settlers who decided to set up his homestead at the south end of the island where he attempted to farm 150 acres at Bowditch Point.

Robert Gilbert filed his claim in 1898 and built his home at the end of Connecticut Street. Today, the Mound House is the oldest remaining structure on the island known today. Gilbert built the original home as a Tudor home with dock and cistern in 1906, and it was known as the “Mound Villa”. In 1909, the home was known as the “Bungalow by the Banyan” when the brick structure was added.

Bratt wanted to grow tomatoes on his land, and he had a successful first harvest. However, in mid-February 1895, a cold wave blew into south Florida with temperatures of 38 degrees recorded, damaging much of Bratt’s tomato crop. Bratt did not give up and continued to farm until 1899 when another deep freeze hit the area, killing all Bratt’s crop of tomatoes. After this loss, Bratt gave up on farming and focused on placing a lighthouse at the tip of Bowditch Point. Unfortunately, Bratt died in 1899 before he could get permission from the government to construct the lighthouse. His 150 acres was then granted to Ambrose McGregor.

Hugh McPhie homesteaded 112 acres running from Flamingo Street to Fairview Isles in 1899. McPhie’s old homestead was built in a coconut grove just south of what is now the Outrigger Hotel. The house was destroyed by a storm in 1947.

Six years went by before George McAuley received a patent on 72 acres which began near Tropical Shores and ran to Donora Street. The next year, 1907, McPhie created McPhie Park which ran from Aberdeen Street to Avenida Pescadora and to the end of Seminole Way.

In 1914, Albert Austin homesteaded a triangular piece of land starting at Aberdeen Street and going north to Williams Drive. This was a little over 24 acres.

The Koreshans played a major role in the history of Estero Island. Leroy Lemoreaux was a member of the Koreshan Unity when he left Estero and homesteaded property on the island.

The last of the homesteaders was Leroy Lemoreaux who was a member of the Koreshan Unity. He came to Estero when he was fourteen years old in 1894. In 1918 Lemoreaux homesteaded 65 acres between the two tracks owned by McPhie. This is the property where the Church of the Ascension is now located. Lemoreaux sold the property to the church.

In A Short History of Fort Myers Beach, Barrett and Adelaide Brown report that during the boom of the 1920s, McPhie was offered half a million dollars for his property. He turned down the offer; however, eventually he subdivided his property into McPhie Park and sold about forty lots in the park, earning about $40,000.

Pelican Hotel

Fri, 13 Mar 2020 21:02:33 GMT

One of the oldest buildings on the beach is now home to Junkanoos and the Fresh Catch Bistro. Back in the day, this building housed the Pelican Hotel and Restaurant which was originally a honeymoon houseboat operated by “Ma” Turner.

The houseboat was rolled up to the present site on logs in 1933. During the 1940’s the Pelican became a refuge for the airmen stationed at Page Field. Additional cottages were added to the property at this time.

Mrs. Gene Bartholomew bought the building from Ma Turner and operated it until 1955 when Garret (Attic) Reasoner and Don Zimmer purchased the hotel and restaurant which the Reasoners managed for many years making improvements to the restaurant, adding hotel rooms, and rehabbing the cottages.

The Reasoners sold the property after Attic was killed in 1966 but continued to manage the restaurant and hotel until 1971.

Chokoloskee Island

Fri, 22 Nov 2019 15:22:16 GMT

One of our favorite places to experience “Old Florida” is found south on 41, deep in the heart of the 10,000 islands. Chokoloskee has been called “one of Florida’s last frontiers.” No trip to Chok is complete without a visit to the Historic Smallwood Store. No matter how many times I have visited this unusual museum, I never tire of spending an hour or more marveling at how little his building has changed over the past 100 years.

Let’s begin, however, with a brief look at the history of this island. Humans have inhabited Chokoloskee Island since the Calusa Indians ruled these islands over 2,000 years ago. This tribe of hunters and gatherers began to build mounds and canals on the island. These canals were about 15 feet wide and 3-6 feet deep. The canals were used by the Calusa for traveling in their canoes until the mid 16th century when the tribe disappeared from Florida.

Near the end of the 19th century, white settlers made their way into the Chokoloskee Bay Area. Hunters were the first to visit hunting plume and fur. They were followed by families who hunted, fished, and farmed the land to make a living.

As more and more settlers came to this area, they needed a place to purchase goods and communicate with the outside world. To fill this need, in 1906 Ted Smallwood opened his store to provide a venue for settlers to purchase hides, furs, produce and other goods needed to survive.

The store remained open until 1982. In 1990, Ted’s granddaughter reopened the store as a museum and today it serves as a “time capsule of Florida Pioneer history.”

Myakka River State Park

Tue, 05 Nov 2019 15:40:32 GMT

Gators are plentiful in the park.

Last weekend, Bob and I set up camp at Myakka River State Park. Just outside of Sarasota, this is one of the largest and oldest state parks in Florida. The Myakka River is Florida’s first state-designated wild and scenic river, flowing through 58 square acres of unspoiled wetlands, prairies, hammocks, pinelands that make up the state park. In addition to the winding river, the park offers miles of hiking and biking trails through an unspoiled wilderness reminiscent of what the early explorers must have experienced when they first landed in Florida.

Myakka River State Park is a birding paradise.

Myakka State Park has a very interesting history as well. In 1934, the state foreclosed on more than 6,000 acres in the Lower Lake Region. A.B. Edwards, one of Sarasota’s first mayors, wanted to set aside a natural area for preservation. Edwards, along with a few supporters, convinced the state to sell them more than 17,000 acres of land at 3.5 cents per acre. Shortly afterwards, another 19,000 acres was donated.

Sunsets over the lake are quite nice.

With more than 26,000 acres of usable land to work with, the Civilian Conservation Corps was brought in to develop the land. The CCC was a federal agency established in the 1930s to provide work for men during the Great Depression.

The CCC began building roads, bridges, and cabins in the park. Ditches were drained and trees and underbrush were cleared. The workers lived in temporary huts while the permanent structures were being built. Everything was built with native materials to blend in with the natural surroundings.

We saw this deer while biking in the park.

The buildings were constructed out of palmetto logs; the shingles for the roof were cut from cypress trees, and the fireplaces were built out of stone from Manatee County. More than 9,900 tress were planted in one day by a crew of 51 men.

The river offers opportunities to fish, canoe, or kayak through the park.

The men who worked on the CCC crews had to meet certain criteria to be hired. They needed to be between 18 and 25 and physically fit. From 1934 to 1941 between 140 and 210 men worked on these crews. The men received regular meals, medical exams, and a 40 hour work day.

On February 18, 1941 Myakka River State Park was officially dedicated. The park opened to the public June 1, 1942. Thanks to the CCC crews, Myakka River State Park continues to be a popular attraction for local and out-of-state visitors.

The campsites are surrounded by native vegetation.

We have visited Myakka River State Park at least once a year for the past forty years, and each visit brings new adventures. This trip, we observed gators, deer, birds, and even a wild hog as we drove through the park at sunset. The park has five of the original cabins available for rent, but you need to plan at least a year in advance to get a reservation. In addition to the cabins, the park offers three campgrounds with 90 sites. Each of the sites has a 50 amp electrical service, water, a fire ring, and a picnic table. The sites in the Palmetto Ridge area also have sewer hook ups.

Aftermath of Donna

Mon, 16 Sep 2019 15:52:12 GMT

I honestly don’t remember too much about how we dealt with the aftermath of Donna. Our trailer was uninhabitable, so we moved into a friend’s home on Connecticut. They were snowbirds and were up north at the time and generously offered their home while we figured out what we were going to do. What I do remember about that time is the mud on the floor of their home. They had terrazzo floors which were covered with about two inches of mud from the bay. I recall my dad and some of his friends scraping the mud off the floors with shovels and then mopping up the dirt.

We stayed there for a few days and later moved into my uncle’s guest house at the end of Egret Street. Although the house was directly on the bay, it was elevated and had less damage than the Connecticut house. To me this was a vacation since he had a pool and a great dock for fishing.

We must have spent a considerable time at Red Coconut helping to clean up the debris and getting our belongs out of the trailer. What I do recall is the fun we kids had roaming around the park looking for “treasures.” We found all kinds of interesting items that were buried in the sand: silverware, plates, dishes, pictures, books, and clothing. I also remember going to St. Raphael’s Church and standing in line waiting to get tetanus shots, which was not much fun for an 8-year-old who was terrified of needles.

Eventually, life got back to normal. We got a new, larger and fancier trailer and the park slowly but surely was put back together. The next storms to directly affect the island were Hurricane Charley in 2004 and Hurricane Irma in 2017. Irma made landfall on the same date as Donna (September 10) fifty six years later. Let’s hope we don’t have another storm for 50 more years.

Hurricane Donna: After the Storm

Tue, 10 Sep 2019 15:54:23 GMT

Today is September 10, the anniversary of two hurricanes that affected Fort Myers Beach 47 years apart. Heralded by some meteorologists as the “peak of hurricane season,” September 10 will always be a date that causes me to stop and reflect on how vulnerable coastal cities are when it comes to hurricanes.

I was in elementary school when we were forced to evacuate because a hurricane called Donna was moving through the Florida Straits. Having written about the days before the storm and the evening of the storm in previous blogs, today, I would like to reflect on what it was like on the island directly after the storm.

Donna moved through Southwest Florida during the night of September 10. By morning, the sun was shining, and my parents were eager to get back to the beach. The drive from North Fort Myers to San Carlos Blvd was uneventful. I don’t recall seeing too much destruction as we drove down McGregor on our way to the island.

Once we reached Minor’s Corner (where Planet Fitness is now at the intersection of Gladiolus and McGregor), we had a hint of what was to come. Many people whose trailers were on the gulf side of Red Coconut RV park decided to take their units off island when the storm threatened.

Back in those days, San Carlos Blvd from McGregor to the Beach was nothing but gladiolus and potato farms. Somewhere among these fields, our friends had placed their trailers hoping to protect them from the storm surge. Unfortunately, the powerful winds did more damage than the water. We were shocked to see that these trailers were scattered about the fields in various stages of destruction: some were completely destroyed; others were turned upside down or lying on their sides. This was a foreshadowing of what was to come.

We were stopped by the old swing bridge and had to show proof of residency before we were let on the island. As we made our way down Estero, I noticed that the road was covered with sand and debris from homes and fallen trees. When we rounded the curve by the library, I was shocked to see my father’s lounge chair smack dab in the middle of the road. His workbench was turned over on the side of the road. It didn’t take long to realize that we were about to enter a disaster zone.

We had a 40 something foot trailer with a large Florida room attached. The Florida room was the “family room.” It housed the television, my dad’s lounge chair, all our family photo albums, and other items that one would find in such a space. The room was totally gone, ripped from the trailer and torn apart by the hurricane force winds. Nothing remained where the room once stood. The trailer itself had faired a little bit better because it was still in one piece. Unfortunately, it was turned on its side and filled with water.

After accessing the damage to our property, we looked around the park and saw destruction everywhere we looked. The Australian pines that provide much needed shade during the hot months were lying on the ground making it hard to navigate around the area. Our best friends had just purchased a new trailer which was on the front row. All that was left of the unit was the 50 foot frame. The entire trailer had exploded, and the contents were scattered around the park.

(To be continued…..next hurricane post will discuss how we coped after the storm)….

Nettie’s Place

Tue, 27 Aug 2019 16:04:26 GMT

One of the first restaurants on Fort Myers Beach was called Nettie’s. Located on the beach at the end of what is now Palermo Drive, Nettie’s was a popular place for sunbathers, fishermen, and anyone else who was spending the day on the island. The restaurant was opened by Nettie (Antoinette) Pavese shortly after the Depression and was well known for serving some of the best Italian food in Lee County. The structure was damaged in the 1947 hurricane and rebuilt as “Nattie’s Bar.” However, in the early 1950s, the building was completely destroyed. After “Nettie’s Bar” was demolished, Nettie’s daughter, Rose, and her husband, Eddie Pacelli built the Surf Club on the same property, but instead of a wooden structure on the gulf, they built a large concrete building facing Estero Blvd. The Surf Club was a bar and liquor store for many years, surviving both Hurricane Donna and Hurricane Charley. In 2010, the Surf Club was renamed the “Mermaid” and still stands today.

Surviving Hurricane Donna

Thu, 27 Jun 2019 16:07:08 GMT

For me, a third grader at Beach Elementary, September 10, 1960, started off like any normal day. The sun was out, the sky was blue, and the gulf breezes were cool. At this time, we lived in a 40 foot trailer on the gulf side of Red Coconut Trailer Park.

As I prepared for school that morning, I noticed my parents were outside talking with their friends about a hurricane that was heading towards Miami. People were deciding whether they should make plans to evacuate. Most didn’t think the storm was going to go up the west coast as east coast landfall was predicted. When my mom dropped me off at school that morning, she told me not to worry because we were only going to “feel the fringes of the storm.”

By lunchtime, however, all of that had changed, and we were let out of school early to “prepare to evacuate.” A few people hooked their trailers up and took them off the island. Back in those days, the area between the beach and McGregor was nothing but potato and gladiolus fields. The trailers were placed in the empty fields, their owners thinking they would be safer off of the island. Our trailer, however, was attached to a large Florida room, so moving it was not an option.

We packed our station wagon and headed into North Fort Myers to stay with some friends. At first, it seemed like another social gathering. The kids went off to play, and the adults settled in to talk and enjoy each other’s company. Later in the evening, we lost electricity, and I can vividly recall the kerosene lanterns and how amazed I was that they could give off such light. Someone made a tent out of sheets, gave us a flashlight, and told us we would be camping out the rest of the night.

Sometimes during the early morning hours, I was awakened by loud talking and shouting. When I went into the living room, I was amazed to see about 20 people huddled together talking about the storm. The unexpected guests were from homes in the neighborhood that had lost their roofs. Our friends had one of the only houses with its roof still on the house.

I must have stayed in the living room with my parents because the next thing I recall is watching the men pile furniture against a sliding glass door. The water from the canal had risen over the seawall and was pushing against the glass. We were all warned to stay away from the doors in case the glass broke and water started flowing into the living room. Luckily, that did not happen.

The next morning, the sun was shining and my dad was chomping at the bit to return to the island. We packed up our belonging and started driving back to the beach. I don’t remember seeing any destruction until we got to San Carlos Blvd. The trailers that had been taken from the beach and placed in the empty field were completely destroyed. This was the first sign that we might be in trouble.

Part III: After the Storm is coming next.

Hurricane Donna

Tue, 25 Jun 2019 16:09:54 GMT

Part I: The Storm

As a kid growing up on Fort Myers Beach, I can recall many times packing our belongings and heading into Fort Myers because of a potential hurricane. Luckily, most of those trips turned out to be nothing more than a social event for the parents and kids who drove to town (Ft. Myers), checked into a hotel, and waited out the storm. Luckily, most of those storms passed by without doing any major damage. We would return to the island happy to have missed a day or two of school. Our luck ran out, however, on September 10, 1960, when Hurricane Donna made a direct hit near Naples.

Hurricane Donna formed off Cape Verde on August 29, 1960. By August 31, Donna had become a hurricane and was headed west into the Caribbean Sea. When the storm reached the Leeward Island on September 4, it had grown into a Cat 4 hurricane. Donna struck Puerto Rico and the Bahamas before it turned northeast heading right towards Cuba and the Keys.

One hundred and twenty people lost their lives in Cuba because evacuation plans were not in place. When Donna went through the Keys, the winds were 145 miles per hour. Donna went up the coast, making landfall south of Naples with 150 mile per hour winds and a 12-foot storm surge. Over 75% of homes on Fort Myers Beach were damaged or destroyed.

In 1960, the island ended at Big Carlos Pass as the bridge on the south end had not yet been built. Cottages were ripped from their foundations and were floating in the bay. Estero Blvd was covered with debris, downed trees, and sand.

Donna became weak as it passed across the state and entered the Atlantic. On September 12, the storm made landfall as a category 2 hurricane near Topsail Beach in North Carolina. The storm continued to move northward striking Long Island before turning extratropical over Maine.

Hurricane Donna was the fifth-strongest hurricane of record to hit the U.S., causing 50 deaths, $387 million in property damage and affecting over 50 million people according to the National Hurricane Center.

Stay Tuned for Part II: Surviving the Storm

The Old Swing Bridge

Thu, 25 Apr 2019 16:14:42 GMT

The old swing bridge that served the island for over 50 years was built in Germany in 1927. The bridge was brought to the United States in 1928 originally for use in Jacksonville. However, the bridge was somehow diverted to Fort Myers Beach sometime in 1928. In 1929 the bridge was installed at the present site of the Sky Bridge.

This bridge replaced the old wooden toll bridge that was destroyed in the 1926 hurricane. The original bridge was operated by two bridge tenders who would manually pull the large key like lever in order to open the bridge for boats. It would take about fifteen minutes for the bridge to open and close causing traffic to back up.

In 1943 the swing portion of the bridge was converted to operate electrically which helped it to open and close more quickly. The swing bridge was the only way to get on or off the island until the Big Carlos Pass Bridge was built in 1965.

Although the bridge was temperamental and would get stuck in the open or closed position, it served the island well until 1975 when the Lee County Department of Transportation decided that the old bridge was in such bad shape that a new bridge would be built.

By 1979, the DOT determined that the old bridge was unsafe to open at all, so it was permanently locked down and used for road traffic only. Only one vehicle was allowed to cross the bridge at a time causing major traffic jams. Eventually, traffic was diverted to the new bridge and the old bridge was removed.

As I mentioned in an earlier post, the old swing bridge was a large part of my childhood. I spent many afternoons fishing off the bridge and watching the fishing fleet return to port with their catch.

When I returned to the island after college, I remember when the bridge was closed for about two weeks for repairs. This must have been sometime in the late 70s before the bridge was permanently locked down. At the time I was teaching in Fort Myers and did not want to drive around the south end to get to work.

Luckily, the Island Belle was put into service to ferry people across the bay. The county had a small bus that would pick up commuters along Estero Blvd and bring them to the end of Crescent Street where the Island Belle would be moored for the short trip to San Carlos Island.

We would leave our cars on San Carlos Island in and around the shrimp docks where Dixie Fish is now. When I returned after work, I would once again catch the ferry for a ride back to the island. Although this was a major inconvenience, I remember those days fondly as a time when the island slowed down, traffic was non-existent, and I met many new friends on the Island Belle.

San Carlos on the Gulf

Fri, 12 Apr 2019 16:22:10 GMT

In the 1920s, Florida became well known as a vacation destination, and Crescent Beach (as the island was known at the time) started to develop. Tom Phillips was one of the first real estate developers to set sights on Fort Myers Beach. Phillips created a development known as San Carlos on the Gulf and built the arches. These arches were constructed from coquina rock and served as an entryway to the island. The arches allowed traffic to flow both on and off the island with sidewalks on each side. The building seen behind the arches was the sales center for Phillips’ development. The arches remained a Fort Myers Beach landmark for over 55 years until they were removed in 1979 to make room for the Sky Bridge.

Fort Myers Beach Library

Mon, 08 Apr 2019 16:24:10 GMT

The first free public library on Fort Myers Beach was located in this small cottage owned by Clem and Lucy McGee. The library was manned a few hours each day by volunteers and remained in this cottage from 1955-1956. In 1957, the library moved to a larger cottage on Avenue A with 3,000 books in its collection. In 1961, a new library was built on Oak Street. In 1978, the library was expanded to make room an increasing circulation and more parking. A two story structure opened in 1994 facing Estero Blvd rather than Oak Street. Finally, the new, state of the art library was opened in 2012. As a kid, I can remember spending many hours in the library on Oak Street. At that time, we did not have air conditioning in the school or in our home, so the library was a great place to cool down on hot summer days.

Beach Hotel

Wed, 03 Apr 2019 20:13:08 GMT

In 1912 the first hotel on Estero Island was built at the end of Pompano Street. At this time, the island was only accessible by boat. The guests would arrive by schooner and would dock at a pier on the gulf side in front of the hotel.

The original pier was destroyed by a hurricane in 1926 but was rebuilt in 1930. In 1944, another hurricane wiped out the pier, which was not rebuilt. The pilings from this pier are still visible today.

The bridge was built in 1921 which made it possible to drive to the island. In 1936, the hotel name was changed from the Winkler Hotel to the Beach Hotel and the resort became a popular destination for the rich and famous. The hotel was sold in 1975 and a condo was built in its place.

Growing up living in a trailer at Red Coconut, I vividly remember the hotel and the pilings. The pilings were always the boundary whenever the kids would roam the beach and swim in the gulf. When we were young, we were never allowed to go “beyond the pilings.”

Changing Times

Fri, 22 Mar 2019 19:43:52 GMT

I came across this picture recently and thought it might make an interesting subject for a post. When I was young, this building was home to the “Cotton Shop” where you could purchase fabric, thread, buttons, zippers, or anything else that you might need if you wanted to do a little arts and crafts, much like Joanne’s Fabrics is today.
The building itself has quite a long history and is one of the oldest structures and landmarks on the island. First constructed in 1933 by C.I. Yent, the structure housed a grocery store and was known as the “Pelican Building.” About five years later, the property was taken over by Harry Steel who replaced the original building with a concrete, coquina rock façade which is still standing today. For many years the building remained as a grocery store, a bakery, and even a post office.

During the war years, the grocery store morphed into the “Cotton Shop” where it continued to supply island women with everything they needed for curtains, clothing, and fashion accessories. In the 1980s the “Cotton Shop” again became a convenience type store selling snacks, coffee, beer, ice, and cigarettes.
The building has survived many hurricanes including Hurricane Donna in 1960, Charlie in 2001, and Irma in 2016. Today, the building is home to retail establishments.

The Mound House

Mon, 18 Mar 2019 19:53:54 GMT

The Mound House is the oldest remaining structure on Estero Island dating back to 1898 when Robert Gilbert filed his homesteading claim. The structure has undergone many changes since 1906 when it was known as the “Mound Villa” and later as the “Bungalow by the Banyan.” After a remodeling in 1921, the bungalow was renamed “Bayview Lodge.” In 1958, William and Florence Long purchased the property and the Mound House was known as “The Long Estate.” When the town of Fort Myers Beach was incorporated in 1995, the Mound House was preserved and the Mound House Cultural and Environmental Center was created.

The Mound House has always had a fascination for me. As a kid, we all had heard stories about a grave that was discovered on the property. A skeleton was discovered during one of the excavations of the shell mound. As the story goes, the placement of the bones with the skull detached indicated that the body had been beheaded by the pirates that hung out around Estero, Sanibel, and Captiva islands during the 1600s.

Back in the 1970s we would spend every weekend skiing in the back bay. We would start at the end of Mango Street and ski to what was then Mid Island Marina (where Snook’s Byte and Bayfront Bistro are now). We would turn around at the marina and ski back to Mango Street. My favorite part of the route was passing the Mound House where I would imagine what it might be like to live in that house surrounded by over two acres of lush vegetation overlooking the bay.

I remember sitting home one afternoon and getting a phone call from one of my friends. “You’ll never guess where I am?” was his opening line. I didn’t have a clue, but when he told me he was having drinks at the Mound House, my interest was immediately piqued. Apparently, his wife’s aunt was good friends with Florence Long and had invited them over for cocktails. Needless to say, I was quite jealous.

I did, however, finally get my chance to visit the house shortly after the town took it over in the mid 1990’s. At this time, no renovations had been complete and the home pretty much the same as it was when the Longs lived there.

Today, the Mound House is preserved as an important Cultural and Environmental Center celebrating the history of the Calusa Indians and the part they played in the history of our island.

End of an Era

Sat, 09 Mar 2019 20:01:58 GMT

The Dixie Fish House is still on the waterfront operating as a seafood restaurant with a great view and great history.

During the “pink gold rush” of the 1950s, over 200 shrimp boats called San Carlos and Estero Islands their home port. Hurricane Donna swept across the islands in 1960 destroying many of the shrimp packing houses that were never rebuilt.

The hurricane, rising gas prices, imported shrimp, and decreased demand for shrimp all contributed to the decline of the shrimping industry in Florida. Today, however, shrimping is an important part of our economy bringing in over $100 million each year. About 40 shrimp boats still consider San Carlos Island their home port.

The Shrimp Festival has been part of island life since the 1950’s but the Blessing of the Fleet has been discontinued. For over 50 years, St. Raphael’s Church took the lead in planning the Blessing. When San Carlos Island was home to 200 boats, the Blessing of the Fleet was one of the highlights of the Shrimp Festival. However, over the years, as the number of boats docking on San Carlos Island began to dwindle, fewer and fewer shrimp boats were participating in the Blessing.

The high cost of fuel also contributed to the decline in participation. The church finally decided to take the Blessing to the shrimp docks, so the boats would not have to leave port. Although the Blessing continued in different forms until about five years ago, there was never enough interest to sustain the tremendous effort it took to put on the ceremony, so the church leadership decided to discontinue the tradition.

Shrimp Festival History

Thu, 07 Mar 2019 20:11:35 GMT

This is a picture of the large shrimp fleet that made San Carlos Island a true working waterfront.

Since this is Shrimp Festival Week, I am going to continue on the subject of shrimping for the next couple of posts. I remember when I was a kid, my father would go to San Carlos Marina every afternoon to watch the fishing boats dock and see what they were catching.

Back in those days, the old swing bridge was in operation, and as I waited at the end of the marina dock, I would watch the shrimp boats return to their home port on the other side of the bridge. There was even a sign before the bridge warning those wanting to get on the island that between 4 and 6 PM, the bridge would be opening to let the shrimp boats come through, so be prepared to stop and wait. And wait they did. People would just park their cars on the bridge, get out, and watch the boats as they came through the bridge and docked on San Carlos Island.

Traffic is nothing new on Estero Island as this picture shows a line of cars waiting for the bridge to open.

In the 1950s and 60s, there were at least four different fish houses operating out of San Carlos Island. It was not uncommon to see four or five boats rafted together all along the waterfront. Once each year, the entire island would gather to spend a weekend celebrating the shrimping industry. The shrimp festival would kick off on a Sunday when the Episcopal Bishop of the Diocese would arrive to bless the fleet.

Most of the shrimpers would decorate their boats and come through the old swing bridge, parading out to the gulf side where they would be blessed from either the pier or the beach. A couple of years ago, I was working on the History of St. Raphael’s Episcopal Church for a library display and I came across several articles on the church’s involvement in the Blessing of the Fleet. One article stated that up to 20,000 people would show up to watch the blessings.

This is an example of a decorated shrimp boat participating in the Blessing of the Fleet

As a teenager I remember the ceremony would be broadcast live on WMYR, the local radio station. Again, in the archives of St. Raphael’s, I also came across an article stating that the women of the parish sold over 2,000 “famous shrimp rolls” at a Blessing of the Fleet in the 1950s. Today, the festival continues to grow in popularity, but the Blessing of the Fleet has gone by the wayside. More on that in a later post.

“Pink Gold” Discovered in Gulf–Shrimping Industry is Born

Sun, 03 Mar 2019 20:16:41 GMT

Shrimp are being processed on San Carlos Island in the 1950s,

In 1949, “pink gold” was discovered in the Dry Tortugas off Key West. This particular species of shrimp, known by its scientific name of Penaesus Duoranum, is considered by many to be the sweetest species harvested in the United States.

When word got out that this new pink shrimp was something special, shrimpers from all over Florida began to relocate to the southern waters where the new species was being caught. Shrimpers need a place to offload their catches and discovered the small island nestled between Estero Island and the mainland. With its easy access from the Gulf, San Carlos Island became a place where the shrimp boats could unload their catch, repair their nets, and stock their boats with fuel and food. It didn’t take long before more docks and processing plants.

That’s when fishermen first discovered pink shrimp in the Gulf of Mexico. Shortly thereafter, San Carlos Island – the small island between the southwest Florida mainland and Fort Myers Beach’s main Estero Island – popped up as a makeshift village to provide the shrimping boats with food, ice, nets, repairs, equipment and other supplies. Docks and processing plants were constructed to prepare the shrimp for shipping across the country.

By 1951 seven shrimp packing houses had been built to serve the growing shrimp fleet. The first “Blessing of the Fleet” festivities began this year as well when an Episcopal Bishop blessed the fleet from the old swing bridge.
In 1952, local shrimpers began traveling to Campeche, Mexico where new pink shrimp beds had been discovered. Two years later, pink shrimp was discovered off the coast of Sanibel and the “pink gold rush” had begun.
At this time, the shrimpers were paid 38 cents per pound for 20/25 count shrimp and by the mid 1950s, the shrimp boats were pulling four nets on double rigs to keep up with the demand.