tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-82346924713138413062024-02-09T19:59:36.742-05:00LOUISE STANTON WARREN author<b>Exploring Florida History</b>
<br><i><small><small><small>Ms. Warren is a retired attorney and librarian, and was a board member of the Jacksonville Historical Society.</small></small></small></i>Ed Leinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06444476320126468411noreply@blogger.comBlogger9125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8234692471313841306.post-1136967903831322482023-05-22T16:25:00.018-04:002023-07-08T18:07:09.878-04:00CORA BELLE SMITH<p><span face="Tahoma, "sans-serif"" style="font-size: 12pt;">Cora Belle Smith, by all accounts a pretty young woman,
age 22, bore bullet wounds in her head, above her heart and in her left arm,
Her brother, Otis Smith, age 30, suffered a gunshot through the bottom
flap of his left ear. One was in an undertaking parlor.</span><span face="Tahoma, "sans-serif"" style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span face="Tahoma, "sans-serif"" style="font-size: 12pt;">The other behind bars.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Tahoma","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">At 5:30 p.m., May 6, 1908, four shots rang out in a West
Adams Street boarding house where moments later the beat police officer found
Belle Smith lying in a pool of blood and Otis Smith standing over her, sloshing
in the cooling blood and holding a smoking pistol. A reddish body fluid spouted
from his left ear.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Tahoma","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">When the doctor was called, he determined nothing could
save the young woman, not yet dead and moving feebly through the fluid. He
dressed her wounds and waited for death to creep in. A later determination
declared the shot to the head to be Belle’s fatal injury. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Tahoma","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Although her brother held the smoking gun, he denied
shooting her. In fact, he denied knowing her. Unable to account for the young
woman or her wounds, Otis was arrested and charged with murder. He already
possessed a corrupt reputation having been previously arrested for fighting and
disorderly conduct. This time he was proudly transported to the local jail on
the elevated charges of murder.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Tahoma","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Otis Smith finally admitted he knew the unknown woman to
be his sister, who enraged by some remark he’d made, had grabbed a pistol from
his trunk and shot him. In the struggle for the pistol, because she was short,
she wounded only the bottom of his ear. Smith still could not account for his
sister’s wounds except to say they occurred during the scuffle. Due to the suspicious
meandering pool of blood and Otis’ unfortunate reputation, he was arrested and
charged as stated.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Tahoma","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Both Smiths worked for printing companies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Belle was well-liked, morally respected and
thought by her boss to be one of his best “girl” employees.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Otis, by contrast, had recently lost his
position, blaming his sister for talking shamelessly about him behind his back.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Tahoma","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">One following the other, witnesses at his murder trial
reported Otis’ jealousy of Belle and his accusations of her immorality. They further
testified to his beating her and threatening to shoot her in the ear. When he
demanded her eight-dollar weekly salary and she refused, her rejection severely
hurt him causing the riotous conduct for which he was arrested.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Tahoma","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Belle was compelled to surrender three of her eight
dollars to him for repayment of his bailor. Others related that instead of
repaying the bailor, he used two of Belle’s three dollars to purchase the gun often
referred to as the murder weapon.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Tahoma","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The jury found Otis guilty of willful murder (he
intended to do it) and sentenced him to death by hanging. During the year the
citizens awaited the big event, Smith, awaited while imprisoned. He declared
himself a changed man. A true Christian. According to him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Tahoma","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Otis Smith acquired many followers and spiritual
counselors, as well as young women who brought him plentiful, tasty food. His
lawyers too believed his innocence and transformation. They not only appealed
his case to the Florida Supreme Court, they brought him before the pardoning
board proximate to his execution.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Tahoma","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Nonetheless the body of Otis Smith shot through the trap
of the scaffold at 10:07 a.m., June 11, 1909, and he was pronounced dead ten
minutes later, the second man of his race (white) to be hanged in Jacksonville
in 30 years. Smith spent the last night of his life prayerfully gobbling the
food offered by his many feminine admirers. Those who watched reported Otis slept
calmly throughout the night in sweet thoughts of salvation. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Tahoma","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">In a brief statement, Smith admitted living a life of
vice and evil, but having made peace with God and having lived a Christian life
within the jail cell for the previous six months. He felt the latter had been
the very best part of his existence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Tahoma","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">In letters printed in the newspapers after his death, he
forgave those who had transgressed against him, admonished others to live the
sanctified life he was leading and continued by describing the immorality of
his sister who had strayed from the path with a man from Atlanta. The newspaper
elected not to print the latter libelous material. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Pink_Geranium_Flower.jpg" style="float: right; margin-top: -1.5em;" target="_blank" title="Pink Geranium, by Rivialla,
CC BY-SA 4.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0>,
via Wikimedia Commons"><img alt="Pink Geranium Flower" src="https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/9/92/Pink_Geranium_Flower.jpg/120px-Pink_Geranium_Flower.jpg" width="120" /></a>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Tahoma","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Smith wished to be buried next to his sister to watch
over and protect her. Instead, he was interred on the other side of the tracks where
he couldn’t see a thing. Also, some scalawag placed a pot of delicate pink
geraniums on the spot of ground that supposedly covered his eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Tahoma","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Some batterers seem generally repentant after a violent episode,
but often strike again as their frustrations rekindle. Of course, Cora Belle
Smith, a pathetic soul, as much as she desired it, would never know of Otis’
future behavior and felt relatively safe in the circumstances. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Tahoma","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>Louise Stanton Warrenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12813794923019311264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8234692471313841306.post-9142968038967836462023-03-02T04:08:00.045-05:002023-07-08T18:07:12.064-04:00MRS. EMMA BROWN DODD<p class="MsoNormal" style="display: none;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>MRS. EMMA BROWN DODD</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="display: none;"><o:p></o:p></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; float: right; margin-top: -0.5em;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnFiwK-tWPdPSRhidpxFdjXyWjtuNvPUwSRJwxSdDll4HxLVP2XYa2LMoOyiBU1bPv6PL9HexRt2eCI0nz9-Yp1gX7aLalN3E4y-B74MZo8knvRSDhGHjoyeXmJKPmdPy23LvnSRRISVinQErivvWAUDuHIvOVPr70Jx8h_b-HzlKpLr10jCNuvLi45A/s507/dodd-evergreen.png" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="507" data-original-width="334" height="290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnFiwK-tWPdPSRhidpxFdjXyWjtuNvPUwSRJwxSdDll4HxLVP2XYa2LMoOyiBU1bPv6PL9HexRt2eCI0nz9-Yp1gX7aLalN3E4y-B74MZo8knvRSDhGHjoyeXmJKPmdPy23LvnSRRISVinQErivvWAUDuHIvOVPr70Jx8h_b-HzlKpLr10jCNuvLi45A/s320/dodd-evergreen.png" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; display: none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAGQehCeO8NWlxohwKgR2-mNxB1MiZv3NnBFmwyqbU_fAxN5NonBcu1ZFMa5ABQt-IGhw-od1grJjupFD1MzouUjUutp6XKTu_vMBZPcWhNNJnl_jCxrRIBhqR50SYZ51fNHYUAyQXc0xNNWpePvLjEj_Jj1b57HgSfPI5GwxvvadoYTimoM6fV2DJIQ/s630/dodd.jpg" style="clear: right; display: block; float: right; margin-top: -0.5em; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><mg alt="" border="0" data-original-height="630" data-original-width="429" height="290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAGQehCeO8NWlxohwKgR2-mNxB1MiZv3NnBFmwyqbU_fAxN5NonBcu1ZFMa5ABQt-IGhw-od1grJjupFD1MzouUjUutp6XKTu_vMBZPcWhNNJnl_jCxrRIBhqR50SYZ51fNHYUAyQXc0xNNWpePvLjEj_Jj1b57HgSfPI5GwxvvadoYTimoM6fV2DJIQ/s320/dodd.jpg"></mg></a></div>
<p class="MsoNormal">On facebook, several months ago, there was particular interest in ghosts
at Evergreen Cemetery including the Dodd mausoleum. The initial attraction to
this gorgeous mausoleum was that this object of beauty could have been in such
a pitiful state of disrepair. It is no longer. And whether ghosts dance at
Evergreen is for individual contemplation, but the true story of the Dodds is
probably just as interesting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Cemetery
records indicated Dodd family members were all interred on April 15 and 16,
1911. A mass murder, a fire, a buggy crash?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The Dodds buried in Evergreen Cemetery were born in England, but the only Dodd
who was a Jacksonville, Florida resident when she died was Emma Brown Dodd. Her probate
file was therefore in the Duval County Courthouse. Full of information, it
chronicled Emma moving into the luxurious Ambassador Hotel apartments at 320
West Church Street. She owned the block abutting it framed by both Church
Street and West Julia, and collected rent from tenants on that property.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>According to the
probate files, she died at “about 60," on January 8, 1910. Her death in
January may have been caused from an accident in October 1909 based on a
drugstore receipt from Wm. Fairlie Prescription Druggist at Bay and Florida
Avenue. On the list, among other things, were bandages, oiled silk, codeine,
and epson salts. However, Emma died at the DeSota Sanitorium, now St. Vincent’s
hospital in Riverside. After a six day stay there, she was billed $33.88, which
included room and board, special nursing and supplies. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">After her death Emma Dodd Brown waited for her vault to be
finished almost 16 months. She lay in the holding vaults at Evergreen Cemetery,
constructed partially underground similar to prairie dirt houses. She rested
among those being shipped north during the winter season waiting for the spring
thaw so the ground could be shoveled in their frigid homes. At last everything
and everyone was ready and the Dodds moved into the lovely mausoleum.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">In Mrs. Dodd’s Will, she specifically requested the
construction of a mausoleum not only to house her body as well as to have her
families’ bodies moved from Sanford, Florida. Her husband and son, John Sr. and
Jr., had died of typhoid fever as did her mother, Sophia Marchand. She further
instructed land for the mausoleum was to be purchased at Woodlawn or Evergreen,
which were together “near Jacksonville, Florida.” The Dodd mausoleum was to be
constructed for no more than $3,000, but the bodies were to be moved no matter
the expense. Moving the family cost $30 apiece, $15 from each funeral parlor
involved.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">So strong was her desire for the safety of her remains that
her executors, with permission of her beneficiary, added a marble veneer to the
mausoleum costing an extra $1,600. Her beneficiary later wrote to the marble
company “that from an artistic standpoint, the vault has been ruined. Its finest
features have been lost although it probably has gained a 1,000 % increase in
durability and 'perpetuality'."<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The irony of this building’s miserable plight was Emma’s
great concern for the excellence of her perpetual resting place which she had
specifically ordered in her Will. Another interesting bit found in the probate
records was a small but powerful contract, approximately 4” by 5”, between
Dobbs and Evergreen Cemetery. The cemetery had agreed to maintain perpetual
care of Mrs. Dobb’s plot no questions asked. In the present world, in certain
places this promise seems to be an anomaly. However, as soon as existence of
the contract, buried in an old manila folder for a century, was presented to
the cemetery staff, the world began to heave and Evergreen returned the
mausoleum, neglected for nearly 100 years, to its intended glory. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"><br /></p><span face="Calibri, "sans-serif"" style="font-size: 11pt;"></span><p></p>Ed Leinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06444476320126468411noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8234692471313841306.post-30970088418538474912022-02-16T13:57:00.188-05:002022-09-22T05:14:07.372-04:00Pre-Christmas Outing in 1919 Turned Tragic at a Railroad Crossing
<img style="display:none" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw5t58F5GMVc8svU17PGZk6NsfxHe5cXjMJtslwAb2CPDx6kGDKPx8hCf56ZoAV6il4uOTQIsWPEACANRWseKVSwV35dXxoqczzfoIEBE64HHJgOJ_sXQuZUBYJj-u3muIvNQz8C2bivacYBVVSzqmL0pd821WpsasskkGW9WKo2iZHiuU7gAXuDYhzg/s320/mitchell.t.c.png">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhh_uPK1qeVk0iDgAvUf-ZOIFx3_y6YlS3ZB0oqjZxmLjdx_huwZEF6J8iSNxHtog_M4yLNnPPbYuH1JNF9H3hK-AYuiRmGC00luvb-9ADYVa-Jgap7obhh9ASOMB77oJySh2KlWetJKE0KMTlYUb8j6-RbJxyBodz38_0Exd4SIiI8OKKv4fGPLCtt9Q=s713" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="551" data-original-width="713" height="154" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhh_uPK1qeVk0iDgAvUf-ZOIFx3_y6YlS3ZB0oqjZxmLjdx_huwZEF6J8iSNxHtog_M4yLNnPPbYuH1JNF9H3hK-AYuiRmGC00luvb-9ADYVa-Jgap7obhh9ASOMB77oJySh2KlWetJKE0KMTlYUb8j6-RbJxyBodz38_0Exd4SIiI8OKKv4fGPLCtt9Q=w200-h154" title="A Mitchell Touring Car similar to the one in the accident" width="200" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>A Mitchell touring car</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table>
<p style="text-align: left;">Full of seasonal spirit, prominent Springfield residents, including the teenage son of distinguished architect Wilbur B. Talley, drove a Mitchell touring car to pick Christmas greenery miles from home. They crossed the railroad tracks south of Fishweir Creek on the old Orange Park Road, now Roosevelt Boulevard. It was a scene laden with undetected danger.</p><p style="text-align: left;">At 4:40 p.m., Dec. 21, 1919, Atlantic Coast Line passenger train No. 85 stunned the car's occupants as the train hurled through the automobile which was traveling toward a small, iron bridge over Fishweir creek. It was not the first or last accident between train and car on Orange Park Road.</p><p style="text-align: left;">The merry group had driven to gather holly and seasonal foliage, southwest of Jacksonville, from homes north of town on Boulevard, West 7th Street, Silver Street and other nearby addresses in the vicinity. On the shell road in the St. Johns Park area, inclement weather dictated the passengers close the car’s storm curtains, reducing their view. The last victim to die reported they neither saw nor heard the train.</p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="display:none;float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhh_uPK1qeVk0iDgAvUf-ZOIFx3_y6YlS3ZB0oqjZxmLjdx_huwZEF6J8iSNxHtog_M4yLNnPPbYuH1JNF9H3hK-AYuiRmGC00luvb-9ADYVa-Jgap7obhh9ASOMB77oJySh2KlWetJKE0KMTlYUb8j6-RbJxyBodz38_0Exd4SIiI8OKKv4fGPLCtt9Q=s713" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="551" data-original-width="713" height="154" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhh_uPK1qeVk0iDgAvUf-ZOIFx3_y6YlS3ZB0oqjZxmLjdx_huwZEF6J8iSNxHtog_M4yLNnPPbYuH1JNF9H3hK-AYuiRmGC00luvb-9ADYVa-Jgap7obhh9ASOMB77oJySh2KlWetJKE0KMTlYUb8j6-RbJxyBodz38_0Exd4SIiI8OKKv4fGPLCtt9Q=w200-h154" title="A Mitchell Touring Car similar to the one in the accident" width="200" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>A Mitchell touring car</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table>Six people rode in the large Mitchell touring car, a popular make of the time, despite the company’s recent bankruptcy. The train’s engineer, by all accounts a reliable and seasoned performer, stated the Mitchell simply drove onto the railroad tracks 50 feet in front of the engine. Although he blew his siren, had the car passengers heard the horn, it was still too late to stop the train.<p></p><p style="text-align: left;">In customary journalism of the time, The <i>Times-Union</i> story described in detail the dreadful injuries suffered by those in the machine (car). The two front seat passengers were scooped up onto the pilot (cow catcher) of the steam engine together with parts of the wrecked vehicle. Both individuals were dead when removed from the pilot, while two other riders, with broken necks and additional wounds, were pinned beneath the chassis of the burnt automobile. Two, still living, were transported by other drivers, coincidentally on the road, to Riverside Hospital, the nearest in the vicinity. One of the injured, close to death or in a “dying condition,” expired upon arrival at the hospital. The other died several days later.</p><p style="text-align: left;">When the train was finally able to stop, the last train car was only 200 feet from the crash. Passengers, jostled and stirred by the collision, emptied their seats to view the wreck. They did what they could for the dead and nearly dead scattered about the tracks. The southbound train continued its journey to Tampa, stopping at Yukon station south of Ortega to phone the news to railroad officials at Sanford, Sanford officials relayed it to Jacksonville.</p><p style="text-align: left;">Due to problems recognizing and identifying victims, it was difficult to send the dreadful tidings to relatives. At last, the car license, unearthed from the burned wreckage, identified the Mitchell as belonging to A.B. Simmons, proprietor of a meat and produce store on Main Street.</p><p style="text-align: left;">Meanwhile back in the city, A.B. Simmons was waiting for his son, Herbert, 14, to whom he had lent his car for the afternoon, to meet him downtown at 5 p.m., as they had previously arranged. That, of course, was not to be, for Herbert Simmons, the driver of the luckless car, seated in the front, had died a horrible death, his body landing on the pilot of the engine. His friends, James Selby, 13, and Ralph McMillan, 14, also died at the scene, trapped with their necks broken beneath the burning car. Roberta Cravy, 12, stepdaughter of H.W. Purvis, who was, ironically, superintendent of the Seaboard Air Line Railway, died at Riverside Hospital upon arrival, and Sarah Talley, 13, daughter of Wilbur B. Talley, architect and designer, lingered for several days, regaining consciousness enough to say she had no knowledge of the train or the accident.</p><p style="text-align: left;">The only adult in the car, presumably as chaperone to the children, was Nellie Talley, mother of Sarah, seated beside Herbert, the driver, also died beside him on the cowcatcher of the train.</p><p style="text-align: left;">All the children were buried before Christmas, Simmons and Cravy’s bodies being transported to their hometowns. Selby’s service was conducted at the funeral parlor of Marcos Conant by the Rev. Hobson of the First Baptist Church. His pallbearers were his school friends, as were McMillan’s whose service was at Main Street Baptist Church, under the direction of the Rev. Lacy Mahon.</p><p style="text-align: left;">When the child’s long deathwatch ended, Talley's daughter and mother, were buried Christmas Eve, three days after the accident. Wilbur Talley, who had designed many fine buildings and homes in Jacksonville, later left the city for Lakeland, where he continued to create memorable designs in several cities. Some are listed on the National Register of <span> Historic Places.</span></p><p><br /></p>
<p style="display:none;" ><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOwFb6AeCB9VJD0I-YGwSiT12RcUAziJHadbplv1_bAxzw3ZuZSmIQdl3yL_GKcX-KhTY4AW5123v6Iv4c_FzTlkQcGVCwj1NVtuZTVQFq3Red4frIQqQOWsUK1N1c9oC3HNttfGCExpSzhOG98lubzq88u_pRKiiWcws8HWe3nJ2r5undJQ_zOJbVOA/s320/car.png"/>
<img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw5t58F5GMVc8svU17PGZk6NsfxHe5cXjMJtslwAb2CPDx6kGDKPx8hCf56ZoAV6il4uOTQIsWPEACANRWseKVSwV35dXxoqczzfoIEBE64HHJgOJ_sXQuZUBYJj-u3muIvNQz8C2bivacYBVVSzqmL0pd821WpsasskkGW9WKo2iZHiuU7gAXuDYhzg/s320/mitchell.t.c.png"/>
</p>Ed Leinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06444476320126468411noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8234692471313841306.post-21155818073977193962022-02-16T12:57:00.031-05:002022-10-25T22:25:14.836-04:00Miss Congo Was a Famous Resident of Jacksonville—for Awhile
<div class="post-body entry-content" id="post-body-8178790385032140395" itemprop="description articleBody" style="line-height: 1.4; position: relative; width: 587px;">
<a style="float:right;text-align:center;" href="https://emuseum.ringling.org/emuseum/objects/32013/start" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; " target="_blank" title="Click to see another photo from The Ringling eMuseum"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="342" data-original-width="342" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWCd0vJFkTaqQJBZVwwXSzorEZT978amsGv_JmI-L25NKW28bPiIyYOIVlU5NWO0uYTrezCrMJwGHYLX2XXFj4x6Pmkr_ouXXvx_YHaK2IJIp93V5gxCAJWMHLDOC90d9VGeSDJUpZejFg0DE7ib2ReihGDg1mX_NrG7vd5uhwFr2DykxJBmmNNdjpyw/s200/miss-congo.jpg"/><br><small>Miss Congo</small></a>
<p><span style="font-family: arial;">At the Park Opera House on Main and Church streets, and later the Duval Theater, Jim Burbridge offered Jacksonville the finest entertainment of the late 1800’s and early '90s: Sarah Bernhardt, Ethel Barrymore, vaudeville, Miss Congo.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">So it was a fitting match for <a href="https://emuseum.ringling.org/emuseum/objects/32013/start" target="_blank" title="See a photo of Miss Congo ca.1927">Congo</a>, the mountain gorilla from Africa, to live first in Jim's brother Bill's nearby downtown real estate office, then </span><span style="font-family: arial;">to reside with showman Jim and Juanita Burbridge in </span><span style="font-family: arial;">their backyard. Congo was the first female gorilla from her African neighborhood to move to the United States, and hers was an engaging suite on the St. Johns river, now Pointe La Vista. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">In 1911, Bill Burbridge commissioned Henry Klutho to design the seven-story Burbridge Hotel with fancy private baths and a hotel</span><span style="font-family: arial;"> lobby</span><span style="font-family: arial;"> to display hunting trophies from Alaska and Africa. Fortunately, Miss Congo was not part of the collection. The Burbridge, at Forsyth and Clay Streets, became the Floridan, and was demolished in 1981.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">The great provider of the brothers’ African treasures was still another brother, Ben Burbridge, who was an </span><span style="font-family: arial;">internationally known game hunter and also an </span><span style="font-family: arial;">owner of an early Jacksonville real estate company. He captured Miss Congo in 1925. He also delivered the first gorilla to Europe at the Antwerp Zoo.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiCaztIct9PCwkRM1pIqwnsnxwAelAiVOnp8oXGuHhyXUcRWEtKPeLjlFFL9H_qA2Vn5f8cqOVCSJeS-Tx0OJDpwz3BIFgP9XTY5RnFUlrp3KFJmlaTpLFo2DtHUk8ruVOChiiURCvi75958YHcV6j3XpDAzbNDa07LI3pNWeJTIPaEAsoPNe3HG8Y7hA=s470" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="470" data-original-width="308" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiCaztIct9PCwkRM1pIqwnsnxwAelAiVOnp8oXGuHhyXUcRWEtKPeLjlFFL9H_qA2Vn5f8cqOVCSJeS-Tx0OJDpwz3BIFgP9XTY5RnFUlrp3KFJmlaTpLFo2DtHUk8ruVOChiiURCvi75958YHcV6j3XpDAzbNDa07LI3pNWeJTIPaEAsoPNe3HG8Y7hA=w210-h320" width="210" /></a></div><span style="font-family: arial;">On at least one of his hunts, Ben Burbridge traveled with a motion picture camera instead of a gun. He photographed and produced the first film of gorillas in the wilderness called <i>The Gorilla Hunt.(illus) </i>A silent film in 1926, it was popular entertainment in Jacksonville and across the country. Now owned by the Museum of Modern Art in New York, the film has recently been restored along with other classic silent pictures.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">As Ben Burbridge lived in his office building, with a private bath, while his wife resided in New York City, Miss Congo, unaccustomed to hotel life, chose brother Jim’s backyard as her domicile. She was visited often by the local citizens, and sometimes on Sunday, cars parked in long lines at the Burbridge property. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Congo, estimated to be 4 years old on her arrival, was a popular resident of Jacksonville, engendering all the excitement of a traveling circus. To some extent, Miss Congo’s experience abroad was more congenial than many captured animals, but her life was short and she was often depressed.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">The famous psychologist and naturalist from Yale, Professor Robert Yerkes, made several trips to the Burbridge backyard in 1925 and 1926 to study Miss Congo. There was no bloodletting as in recent gorilla testing, because his examinations, based on her hunger instinct, were emotional and mental in nature. She was tested to see how cleverly and quickly she could solve problems to obtain food.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Professor Yerkes developed the Yerkes-Dodson law relating motivation to performance, and he devised a number of fun games for Miss Congo such as placing a banana just inches from her reach and providing her various-length sticks with which to reach the goal of retrieving it and gobbling it down. He stated that it took him longer to contrive the tests than it did for her to solve them.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Yerkes, mainly a comparative psychologist, had studied primates for a number of years and commented that young chimpanzees were effervescent, jolly, outgoing and generally annoying. He described the behavior of some male gorillas as playful, beating their chests, etc.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">However, the young Miss Congo, was pensive, reserved and melancholic. Sometimes she exhibited irritation when he swiped her food as she tried to eat, but she internalized her anger. He described her as emotionally aloof and reserved, perhaps exhibiting a superiority complex. She had pet dogs, but did not respond to them, either.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">No doubt Miss Congo would have been happier had she returned home. Instead, she was donated to the Bronx zoo, which today promotes The Congo Gorilla Forest, a 6.5 acre habitat, as well as worldwide conservation projects. Unfortunately for Miss Congo, she was before her time and became more depressed by the separation. She was visited by Juanita Burbridge, a writer, to cheer her up and in whose popular books Miss Congo was featured prominently.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">In 1927, hopefully to recover from “mental depression” the forlorn creature moved to live with the birds and dogs at Ca' d’Zan, the mansion of John Ringling of circus fame, in Sarasota. She died a year later, age 7, 30 to 40 years prematurely. Her only natural enemy was humankind.</span></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="display:none;margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEixP2ZoLtZIeMIbj1S9aUm-ZsDHbNuW8HczOZpN39UWlnMmxsqqaeieIkVMx1vgh2FNWGx0gCus2ZS3LFvDTSUtx95Bgr-ydJ8pqoYSbOYnTWaYcTDg9bINVpAV5fx9SDpVM236-aEQ7Ux-DLS0_z-jZmI2eeclQOU2b-g00ADoy-7snPdKPdLSq-xSLw=s542" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="464" data-original-width="542" height="343" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEixP2ZoLtZIeMIbj1S9aUm-ZsDHbNuW8HczOZpN39UWlnMmxsqqaeieIkVMx1vgh2FNWGx0gCus2ZS3LFvDTSUtx95Bgr-ydJ8pqoYSbOYnTWaYcTDg9bINVpAV5fx9SDpVM236-aEQ7Ux-DLS0_z-jZmI2eeclQOU2b-g00ADoy-7snPdKPdLSq-xSLw=w400-h343" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>Miss Congo</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span><p></p></div><div style="float: right;"><div style="clear: both;"></div>
<div class="post-share-buttons goog-inline-block" style="display: inline-block; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: -0.5em; position: relative; vertical-align: middle;"><a class="goog-inline-block share-button sb-email" href="https://www.blogger.com/share-post.g?blogID=5419185329911235924&pageID=8178790385032140395&target=email" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: 0px 0px; background-repeat: no-repeat; background-size: initial; background: url("/img/share_buttons_20_3.png") 0px 0px no-repeat !important; color: #606060; display: inline-block; height: 20px; margin-left: -1px; overflow: hidden; position: relative; text-decoration-line: none; width: 20px;" target="_blank" title="Email This"></a></div></div>Ed Leinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06444476320126468411noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8234692471313841306.post-29731015344513186592022-02-16T12:44:00.041-05:002022-03-10T06:32:42.870-05:00Florida's Original Tourist Theme Park Featured -- What Else? -- Alligators<p><span style="font-family: arial;">If Alligator Joe Campbell really had rounded up "worthless dogs and stray cats" to feed the big, bull gator he rode, few would care if Joe himself wound up in the gator's mouth.</span></p><div class="post-body entry-content" id="post-body-3560941002390189505" itemprop="description articleBody" style="line-height: 1.4; position: relative; width: 587px;"><p><span style="font-family: arial;">However, although Joe had ridden with Buffalo Bill's Wild West Show, that roundup tale was false. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: small;"></span></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEigP0zt4xPwHKA-ar-6Ga_sFg7CeKyOLQq-Q0sIdo_jAz3IALY68YoaHhea6v7jVNKi7kjnOxxaKmIik2dNT7Irnp4nk8_Liz7LkBVIE7dVAd-FBIwsopTZQKvMlnc5tZ6FI1EEXk4S8u8ZOF3OAp9HFcz2vokQITbNv0tgowit_SindejJCgMBp5j8=s506" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="506" data-original-width="348" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEigP0zt4xPwHKA-ar-6Ga_sFg7CeKyOLQq-Q0sIdo_jAz3IALY68YoaHhea6v7jVNKi7kjnOxxaKmIik2dNT7Irnp4nk8_Liz7LkBVIE7dVAd-FBIwsopTZQKvMlnc5tZ6FI1EEXk4S8u8ZOF3OAp9HFcz2vokQITbNv0tgowit_SindejJCgMBp5j8=w138-h200" width="138" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>Alligator Joe Campbell</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: arial;">Joe's real name was Hubert and he was born in India in 1872, his father a decorated English officer. His passion was alligators and after his Wild West days and a stint of ostrich riding and training, he chose to live in Jacksonville, where, for all his showmanship, he was a well-respected naturalist</span>.<p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Due to the drainage of the Everglades and other state development, 2.5 million alligators were reportedly killed in the 1880s. Commercial hunters and gun-happy tourists helped decrease the population. There seemed to be no better fun than killing gators while cruising on a steamboat.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Although Campbell also hunted alligators, because he feared their extinction he merged with Jacksonville's ostrich farm, the best in the country. By adding his gator collection to the lanky menagerie, he could study and breed both species.</span><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgzinDvcJin_2gPbtI-77_cCbjfAOrr7SO0eb5H4dPwfzDAiFBIUV5MJPrnlmsXD5WiDxdFX5eh86P4fmYs8zoR3gWgMaAB170UmzVSYeruUNC0iZ2yCGs4ZZYNtjXGcPOSgQR3I7rbctNpvv7BgWBm5cUyI5d0BDlGzJ3AZ5tmhzJruDdk3TcXxuc4SQ=s900" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-top: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="577" data-original-width="900" height="205" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgzinDvcJin_2gPbtI-77_cCbjfAOrr7SO0eb5H4dPwfzDAiFBIUV5MJPrnlmsXD5WiDxdFX5eh86P4fmYs8zoR3gWgMaAB170UmzVSYeruUNC0iZ2yCGs4ZZYNtjXGcPOSgQR3I7rbctNpvv7BgWBm5cUyI5d0BDlGzJ3AZ5tmhzJruDdk3TcXxuc4SQ=s320" width="320" /></a></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">In 1912, when 200 ostriches strode into their new billet at Phoenix Park, Alligator Joe and his patient pod of gators were already awaiting the bubble-bottomed birds. This lively tourist destination, Florida's original theme park, percolated east of Jacksonville at Talleyrand Avenue, near Evergreen Cemetery and the river.</span></p><span style="font-family: arial;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgeXkbAX6lrSwAHn5abV4GBFNfh9nOoZilyWZNQisCKLKmUvvv7xC6M24otLC5CsDSjLWxQ78ozL0ah1xxLB6pfLxZM6FrEr6vDPwh6N1xBBAzjdaB3K8hArf9RCX3m0Jm3vr1ekwC1ifuMGgBjB9dw6vMwoHqCBcadKsra04p5SD-4FoCumDNbSAOB7g=s971" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-left: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="523" data-original-width="971" height="172" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgeXkbAX6lrSwAHn5abV4GBFNfh9nOoZilyWZNQisCKLKmUvvv7xC6M24otLC5CsDSjLWxQ78ozL0ah1xxLB6pfLxZM6FrEr6vDPwh6N1xBBAzjdaB3K8hArf9RCX3m0Jm3vr1ekwC1ifuMGgBjB9dw6vMwoHqCBcadKsra04p5SD-4FoCumDNbSAOB7g=s320" width="320" /></a></div>Ostrich racing was a great sport of the era as contemporary ads and postcards indicate. So, to prevent hurt feelings and jealousy, Campbell likewise trained his gators to race and to carry riders. The alligators' education extended to climbing and to waltzing. While the reptiles and ostriches were not competitive, they spent little time together, promoting ostrich longevity.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">In 1907, the Dixieland Park exposition and resort opened at the ferry landing in South Jacksonville, where Alligator Joe, some ostriches and alligators, together with electric fountains, burros, bands and theater productions, were major attractions. The reptiles climbed ladders, slid down chutes and carted children on their broad, rough backs. Campbell was also becoming famous in the movies and newsreels for his alligator shenanigans and study of the creatures.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgJRHnvNoNxKhyTLY9SmzEtu3NrtyawUhJkWTMm2wXIie8kAfaxXegj2ZD2otUuxk-8-FoeOfczmZ3wEfjo_5a5raH7EMvyoklBTf87zyEWZW1AJwbqVmqx-TT7WCPVw9AWRc7uiHmUNnOMUQKftEWzaoCAInNJX4dJQzS0mGozKYE_93_NyHcDR5TL0Q=s658" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img style="border:2px solid silver;" data-original-height="412" data-original-width="658" height="402" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgJRHnvNoNxKhyTLY9SmzEtu3NrtyawUhJkWTMm2wXIie8kAfaxXegj2ZD2otUuxk-8-FoeOfczmZ3wEfjo_5a5raH7EMvyoklBTf87zyEWZW1AJwbqVmqx-TT7WCPVw9AWRc7uiHmUNnOMUQKftEWzaoCAInNJX4dJQzS0mGozKYE_93_NyHcDR5TL0Q=w640-h402" width="560" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br />In 1916, the Ostrich Farm and Alligator Farm, in some queer arc, shifted across the river to South Jacksonville on the site of the Aetna Insurance building, originally Prudential Insurance. Campbell and his wife, Sadie, lived on a houseboat near the southern end of the future Main Street Bridge.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Alligator Joe and Sadie continued farming gators in what they called the swamp. As accomplished as Joe, Sadie could mimic the alligator's wild, guttural sound, sometimes a hunting ploy, which lured gators to the river's surface. Often, she accompanied him on tracking expeditions, during which she was also able to nab some floating snakes by looping their so-called necks.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">While Campbell wrestled the reptiles and delivered lectures, Sadie managed the store at the Alligator Farm, displaying all possible contrivances from alligator parts, including ashtrays and purse latches (made from the smaller heads), etc. In addition to meat and hides, every part was utilized, creating products from alligator oil to claw purses, from embryos for study to egg shells for souvenirs. In addition, filling orders from across the country, together with instructions for care, the Campbells shipped thousands of baby gators in light, cypress boxes filled with Spanish moss.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">They continued to keep some ostriches, and Sadie remembered a surrey race between an ostrich and a horse. She declared, in the short run, an ostrich could always beat a horse, but this ostrich, frightened by a balloon, sat down, giving the horse the advantage.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">In later years, Campbell wrote a <u><a href="https://digitalcollections.library.miami.edu/digital/collection/pamphlets/id/3053" rel="nofollow" target="_blank" title="Go to Campbell's 'INTERESTING FACTS ABOUT ALLIGATORS'
pamphlet on the University of Miami's website." tyle="color: #606060; text-decoration-line: none;">pamphlet about alligators</a>,</u> which included explanations of his life and work. His early gator farming was in Palm Beach, Arkansas and California. By the time he developed his Jacksonville enterprise, hoping to discourage their cannibalistic tendencies, he separated his alligators by size into pens of 200 head, numbering in the thousands.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">When not hibernating, his reptiles ate a total of between five and six tons of fish a week. Old Oklawaha, which according to Joe's own pamphlet reached the thoroughly impossible age of more than 800 years, was his oldest alligator. His type ate a hundred pounds of fish each feeding.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Sadie recalled the only dangerous accident at the farm was when her pet otter escaped and bit her. Of course, she had been bitten by snakes and nipped by gators several times. Then, there was the terrible incident when a guide lost his arm while sticking his head in a gator's mouth and sightseers pulled him free.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Alligator Joe died in 1926 at age 53. He is buried at Evergreen Cemetery with guess what marking his grave?</span></p>
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<a href="ttps://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjQffTqoUu-X131Jx7DpjdICChnY-8Tb54xC44KmsbcqmG3VJGYoEyRyyhhU77Lh8CLRDwxYJ269khFwwKCQYdJjRU_vKvEizR2jdpawp2MuZiRxbBt4nB3amyk0FiIkJmRxVMa_OXT7OxHrm6t7eH6KlUsUhJ8Uf8F59j1p4E9w6Y2M9VNrSnbMUDl=s700" style="color: #ff1fb9; float: left;" target="_blank" title="Click for larger size"><span style="font-family: arial;"><mg alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjQffTqoUu-X131Jx7DpjdICChnY-8Tb54xC44KmsbcqmG3VJGYoEyRyyhhU77Lh8CLRDwxYJ269khFwwKCQYdJjRU_vKvEizR2jdpawp2MuZiRxbBt4nB3amyk0FiIkJmRxVMa_OXT7OxHrm6t7eH6KlUsUhJ8Uf8F59j1p4E9w6Y2M9VNrSnbMUDl=s700" style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); border: 1px solid rgb(243, 243, 243); box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.1) 1px 1px 5px; padding: 5px; position: relative;" width="290"><br /> <small style="color: black;"><i>Photo by Louise Stanton Warren</i></small></mg></span></a></p>
<div style="text-align: center; width: 600px;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: small;">His headstone reads: </span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /><i>Hubert Ian Campbell<br />Born in Berhampur, India<br />June 10, 1872<br />Died in Jacksonville, Fla.<br />March 10, 1926<br />Beloved by All</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center; width: 600px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left; width: 600px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Sadie, his wife, is buried beside him. </span></div><div style="text-align: left; width: 600px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">His <a href="https://www.waymarking.com/gallery/image.aspx?f=1&guid=51c4830a-44e7-460c-82e1-851d00f82189" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">alligator lies on the top of his memorial</a>. </span></div><div style="text-align: left; width: 600px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left; width: 600px;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjZsC2gPjbrlO_8CiYsGDtx8hoFlP9g0Dt77yg6-uFexv9dfIvnJah39s9DZNg8Up26J-wchDb4Hze3Mc_wNvxJ1v63FYJn_g-jFpEcWrr0KcBsZvahiTcB95qYtAehInKYLB_VSgzbNFWEIuJ4rklSqBIteyF2aesAv_Wkg3oZCDvxMM8hPpTSMgHAUw=s589" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="264" data-original-width="589" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjZsC2gPjbrlO_8CiYsGDtx8hoFlP9g0Dt77yg6-uFexv9dfIvnJah39s9DZNg8Up26J-wchDb4Hze3Mc_wNvxJ1v63FYJn_g-jFpEcWrr0KcBsZvahiTcB95qYtAehInKYLB_VSgzbNFWEIuJ4rklSqBIteyF2aesAv_Wkg3oZCDvxMM8hPpTSMgHAUw=s16000" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div>
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Ed Leinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06444476320126468411noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8234692471313841306.post-70764841051963202562022-02-16T12:31:00.026-05:002022-03-20T09:34:19.872-04:00Canova Family Had Show-Business Ties<div class="post-body entry-content" id="post-body-151004120721562923" itemprop="description articleBody" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 1.4; position: relative; width: 587px;"><big style="float: right; font-size: 15.4px; margin-top: -1em;"><b><i><br /></i></b></big><big style="float: right; font-size: 15.4px; margin-top: -1em;"><br /></big><p style="clear: both;">Jacksonville produced its fair share of show business stars. One was Judy Canova. She came from an old Florida family. In the 1700's, the Canova family arrived in St. Augustine with other immigrants from Spain, Portugal and Minorca. They began to populate the state like the little gold balls in the orange groves they owned. </p><p style="clear: both;">One Canova family lived with their large family in Bradford County. The children studied music in Jacksonville to become accomplished musicians. Some settled in the city.</p><p></p>
<div style="background-color: khaki; border: 1px solid black; float: right; line-height: normal; margin-left: 10px; padding-bottom: 4px; padding-left: 6px; padding-top: 4px; width: 205px;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0000036MR/" style="color: #606060; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank" title="Buy the album from amazon.com"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiZ1Cbb62LbaO_NIpwk9CiiDYoWRlsF4DLgu99xn_kS74peFIN4Fuj3xGGAXYxG9sK7K7QQ7KZmLm2rZ2W5xjmcZdlaV-uB6Q7htkIiFoWIsGRUdU2FQjaojTWyr4h5yQbWJl-rfcIsMyW25l5s-xxg2qLY_JbGMY-T4aB4EeqfyoeHqjLcRl5dtqa3=s218" style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); border: 1px solid rgb(243, 243, 243); box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.1) 1px 1px 5px; margin-left: -3px; padding: 5px; position: relative;" width="190" /></a><br /><small><i><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Judy Canova Album Cover</span></i></small></div>
The musical genetics of the Canovas passed to the grandchildren and notably to Judy Canova, the yodeling hillbilly, famous on stage, screen and radio in the 1930s, '40s and '50s. Juliette Canova, born in 1913, took Judy as her stage name.<p></p><p>A popular, musical comedienne who maintained her country persona throughout her performing life, she was sometimes overlooked by critics and big city audiences. Nonetheless, her radio show rated in the top ten nationwide.</p><p>Judy Canova studied music in Jacksonville, as had Canova children before her. Her professional career began as a child, with her brother and sister playing and singing as the Three Georgia Crackers or the Canova Cracker Trio on Jacksonville radio.</p><p>Canova preferred to be a concert singer, as was her mother, but decided to rely on what she believed were the most valuable musical assets she possessed: her volume and her yodeling. From Jacksonville radio, the Crackers moved to New York City Night Clubs and vaudeville. Some say popular singer of the day Rudy Vallee heard their act and invited her to appear on radio with him.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0048290/" rel="nofollow" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="320" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiEVGDETQ9X8aUewHtDKqboCTmJlluh2l7RBce22Cr1kpLOO5TilI8sbF-3yZIQvMEqlq3f0_uYJ9MmsYIGq6_Wudd2guKNS5Rt6fIsvfL0GrQRehpuA1Nilr28bXVZQY1r8oGE7d-PgPD8K7TewC9k6I6oHg87bZy2hbm756sNSP3bDF-FtCdgttbRXQ=w205-h320" title="Find more about LAY THAT RIFLE DOWN at imdb.com" width="205" /></a></div>Judy maintained her cornpone, dumb-as-a-fox character, dressed in bobby sox, outsized ankle boots, checkered blouse and straw hat. The pigtails she sported through adulthood became a popular college fashion for young women.<p></p><p>While Canova made several notable appearances in feature films, her real popularity lay in a series of comedies in which she starred as the man-chasing, under-appreciated but audience-favorite country bumpkin.</p><p>Radio was her greatest success, as she performed with Charlie McCarthy and Edgar Bergen and on the <i>Chase & Sanborn Hour</i>. She also cut a number of records.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.oldtimeradiodownloads.com/comedy/the-judy-canova-show" rel="nofollow" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="178" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgGWsCbKAW5l4PJ327XM7-osT5Iy70Wrexk0cbHi5yNcyOZWdsVxUJLZAR4D05r4fb9FsPuYbdiLgXjBwLaaJIFeWizfVhdqo8ego_QDQ4xCfktdOcmGQo7_WTrUU_PRQEu4Z1_net8T2Cz47Y9HLQ7NrtbVq4iT4h0QHN_83QWbXYOV4YZVyrwQ1F2bQ=w111-h200" title="Listen to 'The Judy Canova Show' at oldtimeradiodownloads.com" width="111" /></a></div>The Canova career was rounded out by 12 years of <i><a href="https://www.oldtimeradiodownloads.com/comedy/the-judy-canova-show" rel="nofollow" target="_blank" title="Hear some broadcast recordings
at Old Time Radio Downloads"><u>The Judy Canova Radio Show</u></a></i>, consisting of jokes, songs and corny characters. In 1953, it passed with the demise of old-time radio. She made many guest appearances on television and took small film roles until her death from cancer in 1983.<p></p></div><p><span face="Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif" style="background-color: white;">One of the first women to negotiate a share of her films' profits and special rights for her production company, Canova was anything but dumb. She was honored with two stars on the Hollywood Walk of Fame for radio and for movies. Her daughter, an actress, was named Dianna for Canova's Baker County grandmother.</span> </p><ul style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><li style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased;"><span color="inherit" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><a data-auth="NotApplicable" data-linkindex="0" href="https://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=%22judy+canova%22" rel="nofollow noopener noreferrer" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;" target="_blank" title="https://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=%22judy+canova%22">Judy Canova on YouTube</a></span><br aria-hidden="true" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased;" /></li><li style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased;"><a data-auth="NotApplicable" data-linkindex="1" href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0134411/" rel="nofollow noopener noreferrer" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;" target="_blank" title="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0134411/">Internet Movie Database: Judy Canova</a> </li></ul>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhbzyS6MKCvNmeMlHToDr9jD2NYaYvlplSvHVPyGr7BXmNh1kxvxEM5W7sPKUQiJF0zQmWF1zCtl7iuvvn19SSM2b1_qrm_NnEIFcEFlGNAQIGnp-tvM2MSl9CaUop6_2SdKmK7fVXBWrjEZfVz9UMrzmAQfGET32SFzN3BYecc71xgZT4EWHRtZMkodQ" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="431" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhbzyS6MKCvNmeMlHToDr9jD2NYaYvlplSvHVPyGr7BXmNh1kxvxEM5W7sPKUQiJF0zQmWF1zCtl7iuvvn19SSM2b1_qrm_NnEIFcEFlGNAQIGnp-tvM2MSl9CaUop6_2SdKmK7fVXBWrjEZfVz9UMrzmAQfGET32SFzN3BYecc71xgZT4EWHRtZMkodQ" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial; text-align: start;"><b><span style="font-size: x-small;">Old Canova home in Baker County</span></b><br /><i style="font-size: x-small;">Courtesy Florida Photographic Collection. (Public domain)</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; width:100%"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg1DSQM_EAtkAGRRznQsd-MIey1YHZJhE7BAAAQjPsgyshw2v_7PLTlBE_tDgO4YytbM9hquHTIL0S08FFcnaR2io-Osuq_BdioZugrZezpHrajCEYg0R1Ihwi3o6-uHqD52FBwz4APm0CwZZEFS0f4ne5vZNE35hgTk6qQGooUYNIomD2WTb8mK1GJXg" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank" title="The former home of the Gato family in
Jacksonville's Springfield neighborhood.
The family also owned the brick building
to the left, now demolished."><img border="0" data-original-height="309" data-original-width="544" width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg1DSQM_EAtkAGRRznQsd-MIey1YHZJhE7BAAAQjPsgyshw2v_7PLTlBE_tDgO4YytbM9hquHTIL0S08FFcnaR2io-Osuq_BdioZugrZezpHrajCEYg0R1Ihwi3o6-uHqD52FBwz4APm0CwZZEFS0f4ne5vZNE35hgTk6qQGooUYNIomD2WTb8mK1GJXg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>The Canova Family's former properties in Jacksonville's Springfield neighborhood.</b></span><span style="font-size: xx-small;"> <br /></span></i><span style="font-size: xx-small;">1985 Survey Photo</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>
<br><a href="https://goo.gl/maps/UbfxcHsomQC7EHR28" rel="nofollow" target="_blank"><small><i>A recent view from Google Maps</i></small></a>:
<iframe src="https://www.google.com/maps/embed?pb=!4v1647005452487!6m8!1m7!1sGjVqXq0cV3INpqyVHrtOxA!2m2!1d30.33871599949316!2d-81.64960304874059!3f0.9170578629003181!4f1.0751777550384816!5f0.6696664593943549" width="600" height="450" style="border:0;" allowfullscreen="" loading="lazy"></iframe>
<div class="separator" style="display:none;clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg1DSQM_EAtkAGRRznQsd-MIey1YHZJhE7BAAAQjPsgyshw2v_7PLTlBE_tDgO4YytbM9hquHTIL0S08FFcnaR2io-Osuq_BdioZugrZezpHrajCEYg0R1Ihwi3o6-uHqD52FBwz4APm0CwZZEFS0f4ne5vZNE35hgTk6qQGooUYNIomD2WTb8mK1GJXg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="309" data-original-width="544" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg1DSQM_EAtkAGRRznQsd-MIey1YHZJhE7BAAAQjPsgyshw2v_7PLTlBE_tDgO4YytbM9hquHTIL0S08FFcnaR2io-Osuq_BdioZugrZezpHrajCEYg0R1Ihwi3o6-uHqD52FBwz4APm0CwZZEFS0f4ne5vZNE35hgTk6qQGooUYNIomD2WTb8mK1GJXg"/></a></div>
</div>Ed Leinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06444476320126468411noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8234692471313841306.post-45869193983401851002022-02-16T12:29:00.102-05:002023-03-03T12:46:21.207-05:00Automobiles Had a Special Place in Jacksonville History<style>
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<p style="display: none;">
Jacksonville was a racing town.
<br /><br />
Steamboats, sailboats and yachts, and power swimmers plowed the river. Horses and bicycles were big business and lots of fun. Motorcycles and automobiles coursing the beaches brought in lots of money and people.
<br /><br />
However, excluding Oscar and the other ostriches, the race extraordinaire was in 1910, when Cadillac and biplane sped down the Moncrief Racetrack.
<br /><br />
Like every crossroads in the nation, Jacksonville longed to be an automobile town. Autoists of the 1900s were bold explorers on the cutting edge. John Einig, inventor of Big Jim, the steam whistle, tinkered around in 1895 and built the first auto in Jacksonville, then cranked along Bay Street in his chug-chug machine at 5 or 6 miles per hour.
</p>
<img data-original-height="235" data-original-width="235" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilF245lgs4U3z6mi8QBoh4Bh4b3LbrL2ORLJwdhzmEi1J3P-BfsrkHJcgPJPBB7nL9CtYdsdJ6sW8GfPEVoAPRSEeRV8BSnv8qhaz0tgOMPp4M-3-cNdgjggJlF5-Zap1yIDXwemOYqeebmwKQdnTDYbDZGhUtBxieP3yrYGCsaOIH41qLqYM9GAWImA/s1600/Claude_Nolan_Cadillac-1911..jpg" style="display:none;background-color: white; border-right: 3px solid red; float: right; padding-bottom: 1em; padding-top: 0.25em;" />
<div style="display:none;background-image: url(https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJEchBAsoCWjA28NUO0aHrQuYTuiqQrOAWUqyr8DONlVHWEStekXKIv7rtWIXzqoH-jNvoN0k1UTmU1YFZlNFxQvbdDJsUt2v0449YdxT3McOK_WNAtpOz1rzayJEmx3V5q7tRiKj0hwSdyILO5ExRJ5MRn3ZZiBQZrWfXK3GMMIIuxPawtvA6rZPaVg/s1600/background.png); background-repeat: repeat; border: 3px solid red; font-size: 12pt; padding-top: 0.5em; text-align: center;">
</div><div style="display:none">
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'Canova Family Had Show-Business Ties'</a>
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'Florida's Original Tourist Theme Park Featured -- What Else? -- Alligators'</a>
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'Miss Congo Was a Famous Resident of Jacksonville—for Awhile'</a>
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BOOK: <a href="https://louisestantonwarren.blogspot.com/search/label/%27A%20House%20on%20Hubbard%20Street%27%20%28book%29">
'A House on Hubbard Street'</a>
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<div class="post-body entry-content" id="post-body-7778428450823452290" itemprop="description articleBody" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 1.4; position: relative; width: 587px;">
<p>Jacksonville was a racing town.
<br><br>
Steamboats, sailboats and yachts, and power swimmers plowed the river. Horses and bicycles were big business and lots of fun. Motorcycles and automobiles coursing the beaches brought in lots of money and people.</p>
<p>
<a class="mouseover" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHwm-RAbDv8-7wc3RLsatoocAvGriC0oA-Dl0wyLJj8rURQprXPW1SPcl8t78LG7LGpJBDBGgf1ALp-II1DHHJIV_63QWmefO8dq5sbHKmjdzaepmQP23kRlN50HLTGtjmDQABIjS5jehqKxpnvm2_GIisY5COENZWh-X4XKotOK8pygKtJRCV8CNuVQ/s600/osttich-race.jpg" style="margin-top:-2.25em; text-align: center; clear: right; float: right;"><img alt="" border="0" width="170" data-original-height="498" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHwm-RAbDv8-7wc3RLsatoocAvGriC0oA-Dl0wyLJj8rURQprXPW1SPcl8t78LG7LGpJBDBGgf1ALp-II1DHHJIV_63QWmefO8dq5sbHKmjdzaepmQP23kRlN50HLTGtjmDQABIjS5jehqKxpnvm2_GIisY5COENZWh-X4XKotOK8pygKtJRCV8CNuVQ/s200/osttich-race.jpg"/><span><img alt="" border="0" width="500" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHwm-RAbDv8-7wc3RLsatoocAvGriC0oA-Dl0wyLJj8rURQprXPW1SPcl8t78LG7LGpJBDBGgf1ALp-II1DHHJIV_63QWmefO8dq5sbHKmjdzaepmQP23kRlN50HLTGtjmDQABIjS5jehqKxpnvm2_GIisY5COENZWh-X4XKotOK8pygKtJRCV8CNuVQ/s1600/osttich-race.jpg"/></span></a>
However, excluding Oscar and the other ostriches, the race extraordinaire was in 1910, when Cadillac and biplane sped down the Moncrief Racetrack.</p>
<p>
Like every crossroads in the nation, Jacksonville longed to be an automobile town. <a class="mouseover" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6jQ5yPc2y0RdSs5l6KFPRPc6XZQ4En_TqBXUruK2xhXNVcCGIfsPAVkZLd69LHuISF_DF6xTS1l63sKrPMiRtSOF1rnA5oY0h4xKxBYgMFvrNkVpdr2BVk4j1UvV-oQ_dnZFSktdGBILtLSGxVirIBdSq-uH0H1CwYuOuzoaI9B9fcWjJeB3sDhLFog/s1600/enig-carriage.jpg" style="float:right; margin-left:1em;"><img width="170" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6jQ5yPc2y0RdSs5l6KFPRPc6XZQ4En_TqBXUruK2xhXNVcCGIfsPAVkZLd69LHuISF_DF6xTS1l63sKrPMiRtSOF1rnA5oY0h4xKxBYgMFvrNkVpdr2BVk4j1UvV-oQ_dnZFSktdGBILtLSGxVirIBdSq-uH0H1CwYuOuzoaI9B9fcWjJeB3sDhLFog/s1600/enig-carriage.jpg"/><span style="text-align:center; background-color:antiquewhite; border:3px solid red;"><img width="500" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6jQ5yPc2y0RdSs5l6KFPRPc6XZQ4En_TqBXUruK2xhXNVcCGIfsPAVkZLd69LHuISF_DF6xTS1l63sKrPMiRtSOF1rnA5oY0h4xKxBYgMFvrNkVpdr2BVk4j1UvV-oQ_dnZFSktdGBILtLSGxVirIBdSq-uH0H1CwYuOuzoaI9B9fcWjJeB3sDhLFog/s1600/enig-carriage.jpg"/><br><small style="color:black"><i><b>John Einig</b> (1854-1912) chugging along in his horseless carriage</i><br> </small></span></a Autoists of the 1900s were bold explorers on the cutting edge. >John Einig, inventor of Big Jim, the steam whistle, tinkered around in 1895 and built the first auto in Jacksonville, then cranked along Bay Street in his chug-chug machine at 5 or 6 miles per hour.</p>
<p>
In 1900, Charles A. Clark, an undertaker, owned the first store-bought auto in the city and Claude Nolan opened the Claude Nolan Cadillac Co. in 1907. He headed the dealership for 35 years, expanding through Florida and beyond, creating the first installment purchase plan for automobiles in the country.</p>
<p>
<a style="display:none;float:right; margin-top:-1.5em;" class="mouseover"href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj81jMPGWV0e--EeCsTzAEsrURhn_oxqXqyypz4Tla84N5H0crLNn1OrDJtudtVITPVLc4rPWVk1dYOiyH0dXrAE4Y3ItCiDElae38asxdxfD5ctlTsInWB8H4Nh5AkVI8hYnduVd5GrB0Zg8tHHPmYl97rMMWnkAOBRixed2tVsh09BHl6NaQEf9IDUQ/s1600/claude-nolan.jpg"><img width="110" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj81jMPGWV0e--EeCsTzAEsrURhn_oxqXqyypz4Tla84N5H0crLNn1OrDJtudtVITPVLc4rPWVk1dYOiyH0dXrAE4Y3ItCiDElae38asxdxfD5ctlTsInWB8H4Nh5AkVI8hYnduVd5GrB0Zg8tHHPmYl97rMMWnkAOBRixed2tVsh09BHl6NaQEf9IDUQ/s1600/claude-nolan.jpg"/>
<span style="text-align:center; background-color:antiquewhite;color:black; border 3px solid red;left:75%;"><img width="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj81jMPGWV0e--EeCsTzAEsrURhn_oxqXqyypz4Tla84N5H0crLNn1OrDJtudtVITPVLc4rPWVk1dYOiyH0dXrAE4Y3ItCiDElae38asxdxfD5ctlTsInWB8H4Nh5AkVI8hYnduVd5GrB0Zg8tHHPmYl97rMMWnkAOBRixed2tVsh09BHl6NaQEf9IDUQ/s1600/claude-nolan.jpg"/><br><b>Claude Nolan</b></span></a>
At 22, Nolan had graduated from Vanderbilt University Law School and immediately returned to Jacksonville to enter the automobile business. In an era of horse-drawn carriages and dirt roads, the entrepreneur actively promoted the new machines and where they ran.</p><p>As a member of the Good Roads movement, he believed all Floridians, as well as automobile dealers, deserved smoother road surfaces for travel and business transportation than rutted sand and oyster shells.</p>
<p>Part of the Good Roads movement included efforts to require public and private fencing to restrain livestock. It had traditionally been a four-legged habit to bum about paths and byways, colliding with mobile contraptions while destroying themselves, the rolling object and the well-laid travel plans of humans.</p><p>Nolan was the first to drive an auto into Key West. He traveled over the Florida East Coast railroad trestle before the overseas highway was built. There were other auto races, but none like the weird one in which a pilot challenged Nolan to race. Pilot and driver, after some aerial showboating, settled into a serious match.</p><p>The automobile won, the aeroplane pilot blaming a headwind for his loss, and Claude Nolan was awarded a victory spin around the racetrack in the biplane. Reported to be the second successful flight in the state, Nolan became the first native Floridian to breeze in the clouds.</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a class="mouseover" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh3XREwLR1XQgNsAZriPC98EppZPjkq9b6Wm2N7J8Ah6z3q4kjr9BTsxUTOzCUjPjDQMTtpNjwbw8PTcYi_86NzWWYn-Ev_kbODGdXVrrzLEK296o9nfsYTs1WBHE_KcQM6d0dhv-GACL4z1iQ8ECr41Q8IDwlo_rEFsSoBZeATRMElxg36tRoWHYax2g=s484" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="413" data-original-width="484" height="171" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh3XREwLR1XQgNsAZriPC98EppZPjkq9b6Wm2N7J8Ah6z3q4kjr9BTsxUTOzCUjPjDQMTtpNjwbw8PTcYi_86NzWWYn-Ev_kbODGdXVrrzLEK296o9nfsYTs1WBHE_KcQM6d0dhv-GACL4z1iQ8ECr41Q8IDwlo_rEFsSoBZeATRMElxg36tRoWHYax2g=w200-h171" width="200" /><span><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh3XREwLR1XQgNsAZriPC98EppZPjkq9b6Wm2N7J8Ah6z3q4kjr9BTsxUTOzCUjPjDQMTtpNjwbw8PTcYi_86NzWWYn-Ev_kbODGdXVrrzLEK296o9nfsYTs1WBHE_KcQM6d0dhv-GACL4z1iQ8ECr41Q8IDwlo_rEFsSoBZeATRMElxg36tRoWHYax2g=w400-h342"></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>Claude Nolan Cadillac Co., 1911</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table>A year later, architect John Klutho designed one of the finest of his oft-discussed Prairie-style buildings at Main and Orange streets for Claude Nolan Cadillac. A beautiful, three-story construction with a showroom on the first floor and repair shop and additional cars on the second. A far cry from Auto Max.<p></p><p>In 1948, the building was unfortunately remodeled by another architect into what has been called a monstrosity. The complex that included additional garages in the rear still abuts Hogans Creek.</p><p>Claude Nolan died of a brief illness in 1943 at age 57 and is buried at Oaklawn Cemetery. On the bright side, he was born in Sanford in 1884, where his father, an attorney and Confederate veteran from Henry County, Ga., had recently moved with his wife and five children.</p><p>A decade later, George M. Nolan again moved the family, this time to Jacksonville, where he continued to practice law. Nolan lived in a beautiful home, now demolished, on the corner of Second Street and Main overlooking Springfield Park. Second Street was considered to be the most beautiful street in the city.</p><p>After serving in the Legislature in 1899, a decade after his arrival in Jacksonville, George Nolan was elected mayor of the town. During his mayoralty, beginning two years after the Great Fire, the city's growth was spiking, although numerous fires continued to break out across the city.</p><p>That was also the year of the worst flood in Jacksonville history. A week of heavy rain caused the overflow of McCoy's Creek, and water covered Broad Street to the Union Depot and throughout the railroad yards. Rowboats were used to cross Bay Street near the depot. The floodwaters extended as far north as Springfield Park and the waterworks grounds across the street from Nolan's home.</p><p>Not simply enmeshed in the purple, journalistic prose of the day, Nolan, a popular politician, orator and "entertainer," seemed genuinely liked by the people. He died during his second term, during the Carnival week he loved. All Carnival flags were lowered to half-staff.</p><p>Eight children survived Nolan, including his sons, Claude Nolan and E.M. Nolan, and he is buried at Evergreen Cemetery.</p><hr /><p style="font-size: 15.4px;"><i>Jacksonville attorney Louise Stanton Warren shared the stories behind the headstones in the city's oldest cemeteries for the Port of Jacksonville Pilot Club's annual cemetery tours.</i></p></div>Ed Leinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06444476320126468411noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8234692471313841306.post-6516984757243741642022-02-03T03:53:00.000-05:002023-03-02T09:23:21.244-05:00A House on Hubbard Street<h3 class="post-title entry-title" itemprop="name" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 24px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0.75em 0px 0px; position: relative;"><span style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;">by </span><a href="https://louisestantonwarren.blogspot.com/p/about-author.html" style="color: black; font-size: small; text-decoration-line: none;" title="Go to Louise Stanton Warren's biography."><b>Louise Stanton Warren</b></a></h3><div class="post-body entry-content" id="post-body-2382420612105680074" itemprop="articleBody" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 1.4; position: relative; width: 587px;"><small style="font-size: 15.4px;">
<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgQvo5ha1WUiTG1FpGTk5kX8SmTj40zcTPZ98WwtAzTj6SHn1y2S3MjDFsvxdFgdWarASesvf6gxqwOOvHTcNXKmvrnsd92cACDArV7OmuYLnWKg-RPS0rwyrVdOZ0-XDcS_fq9hPV2YvbLoy0zQM9GcdRTcP6_OqqAVJD15fxRLVKKRYzTVFRKgp7C=s772" rel="nofollow" style="color: black; float: left; padding-right: 0.5em; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank"><img alt="A HOUSE ON HUBBARD STREET" border="0" data-original-height="772" data-original-width="500" height="290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgQvo5ha1WUiTG1FpGTk5kX8SmTj40zcTPZ98WwtAzTj6SHn1y2S3MjDFsvxdFgdWarASesvf6gxqwOOvHTcNXKmvrnsd92cACDArV7OmuYLnWKg-RPS0rwyrVdOZ0-XDcS_fq9hPV2YvbLoy0zQM9GcdRTcP6_OqqAVJD15fxRLVKKRYzTVFRKgp7C=s772" style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); border: 1px solid rgb(243, 243, 243); box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.1) 1px 1px 5px; padding: 5px; position: relative;" /></a><i>A House on Hubbard Street</i> is the story of a small group of dedicated women who, in the early years of the women's movement, were determined to make their--and other women's--voices heard on the then-hidden subject of crimes against women. In an era when women were not expected to speak out, the Jacksonville Women's Movement faced a tide of resistance in the dusty Southern conservatism rampant in Jacksonville, Florida.</p><p>The women pushed through those barriers to focus on the heinous crimes of rape and spouse abuse, establishing a rape hotline and then, in 1976, opening Hubbard House, the first battered women's shelter in the Southeast.</p><p>The job of reshaping a society was not an easy one and was often dangerous for the women as well. However, with the creation of Hubbard House, the members of the Jacksonville Women's Movement started their long and colorful march toward the goal of domestic peace.<br><br><i>Current Status</i>: <b>SOLD OUT</b>
<br><i>Check for library copies at</i> <a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/house-on-hubbard-street/oclc/39751702" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"><b>https://www.worldcat.org</b></a></p><br /><hr style="font-size: 15.4px;" /><p style="font-size: 15.4px;"><a href="https://sites.google.com/view/louise-stanton-warren/home" rel="nofollow" style="color: darkblue; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank" title="Click for more information"><b>Louise Stanton Warren</b></a> is a retired attorney and librarian from Jacksonville, Florida, and was a board member of the Jacksonville Historical Society. She wrote and directed scripts for the Port of Jacksonville Pilot Club's annual tours of Jacksonville's oldest cemeteries for 10 years, revealing the stories behind the headstones of Old City Cemetery and Evergreen Cemetery.</p></div>Ed Leinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06444476320126468411noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8234692471313841306.post-48306254648873924092022-02-02T05:58:00.004-05:002023-09-28T19:10:05.968-04:00Now Available--FATAL SWITCH: MURDER ON THE PANAMA ROAD
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<big>📖 <b><u>Friday, December 9, 2022, 5 p.m. to 9 p.m.</u></b> 📖</big>
<br><i>Enjoy a Jacksonvile </i><b style="color:#013220">Meet & Greet with the Author</b> <i>during the</i>
<br><a class="mouseover" href="https://allevents.in/jacksonville/siaa-holiday-home-tour-2022/200023669520550" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"><big>🎄<b style="color:red">34th Annual Springfield Holiday Tour of Homes</b>🎄</big><span class=popup><img height=600 style="max-height:80%;" src="https://cdn-az.allevents.in/events4/banners/a0b3bdf58bd9a8865258f7e2f28da175afa0961c6b341d483d3ef8d3bede5c37-rimg-w622-h960-gmir.jpg?v=1670361909"></span></a>
<br>Presented by SIAA <small>(Springfield Improvement Association & Archives)</small>.
<br><i>(<b>Plus, copies of FATAL SWITCH will be on hand if you<br>
want to get some holiday shopping out of the way!</b>)</i></small>
<br><a href="https://allevents.in/jacksonville/siaa-holiday-home-tour-2022/200023669520550" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"><u style="color:red"><b>TOUR TICKETS</b></u>:<i>
$20.00 per person on tour days.</a><br> Children 12 and under are free.</i>
<br>Location: <b>210 West 7th Street</b> in Historic Springfield.
<br><small>
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<big style="color: black;"><b>Louise Stanton Warren</b><br /><b style="color: red;"><i><big>FATAL SWITCH</big>: Murder on the Panama Road</i></b></big>
<br /><small><b style="color: black;">An Historical True Crime Narrative</b>
<br />
<small><i>Find it at</i></small>
<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Fatal-Switch-Murder-Panama-Road/dp/B0B8JLSN76/" rel="nofollow" target="_blank" title="Go to Amazon's entry for the book"><u>Amazon.com</u>,
<a href="https://www.booksamillion.com/search?type=author&query=Louise+Stanton+Warren&id=8657581226900" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"><u>Books-A-Million</u></a> &
<a href="https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/fatal-switch-louise-stanton-warren/1142265912" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">
<u>Barnes & Noble</u> </small></a>
<br><small>(Hardcover, $27.95; Paperback, $17.95)</small>
<br /><small><i>Published by Olivette-Crooke, LLC (August 2, 2022)</i> ISBN-13: 979-8986038001</small></small></p></div>
<small style="font-size: 10pt;"><b style="display: block; text-align: center; width: 100%;"><a href="#PROLOGUE" title="Read the PROLOGUE
to FATAL SWITCH">PROLOGUE</a> | <a href="#SYNOPSIS" title="Read an EXCERPT
from FATAL SWITCH">SYNOPSIS</a> | <a href="#ENDORSEMENTS" title="Read some ENDORSEMENTS
for FATAL SWITCH">ENDORSEMENTS</a></b></small>
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<br />
<h1>FATAL SWITCH: Murder on the Panama Road</h1>
<br />
<h2><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">by </span><a href="https://louisestantonwarren.blogspot.com/p/about-author.html" title="Go to Louise Stanton Warren's biography"><big><b>Louise Stanton Warren</b></big></a></span></h2>
<br /><br /><b><i>An Historical True Crime Narrative</i></b><p></p></div>
<hr id="PROLOGUE" style="clear: both;" /><p style="text-align: center; width: 100%;"><b>PROLOGUE</b></p>
<p><i>
<b>April 22, 1897, Thursday, 4:30 p.m.</b>
<br /><br />
A whipped branch, a whirl of sand. Preternatural silence. As the still before a hurricane, the world watched the day close on the irrevocable, the inconceivable. Only the pealing church bells shattered the quiet and called forth the gathering.
<br /><br />
Tucked in the rear of the sanctuary, according to church dictates, the Gato children stood in a double semi-circle by the open coffin. Tears streaked down their cheeks. The older children held the slight shoulders of the smaller ones who stood before them. Gabriel H. Gato, the father, with swollen eyes and tightly pulled mouth, set tight with controlled rage and sorrow, greeted visitors who filed by. Family, friends, and voyeurs, whom no one knew, passed Marie Louise Gato’s silk lined casket uttering sounds of mourning. Enriqueta, the young woman’s mother, lay at home in bed, sobbing into her pillow, clawing at her mattress. From a small chair in the corner, a friend watched over her in silence
<br /><br />
Marie’s first cousin, Katy Huau Lorraine, waited in the vestibule to join the family procession behind the small white casket as it moved forward through the nave of the church. Alphonso Fritot, another cousin, waited with Katie until the priest called him to help carry the coffin. Their parents and siblings also stood in the vestibule speaking of nothing much in soft voices.
<br /><br />
Finally, the casket was borne tenderly up the aisle preceded by the rector reading the opening lines of the solemn service of the Episcopal Church. The Rt. Reverend Edwin Weed, Bishop of Florida, assisting in the service, indicated the importance and respect afforded this family. The full choir, swathed in flowing robes, also participated.
<br /><br />
From his jail cell a block away, Edward Pitzer heard the bells of the St. John’s Episcopal Church tolling the girl's funeral. "It would have meant a lot to me," he said, listening to the bells, “if I could have attended the funeral."
<br /><br />
That morning, his mother had fainted at the coroner’s hearing when Georgia, Marie’s older sister, weeping, testified that she had recognized Pitzer two nights before at her front gate with a gun in his hand.
</i></p>
<hr id="SYNOPSIS" /><p style="text-align: center; width: 100%;"><b>SYNOPSIS</b></p>
<p>
Surrounded by lush dramatic landscapes of Victorian Florida and characters who intrigue and enrage, a young Cuban woman, Marie Louise Gato, daughter of a wealthy cigar manufacturer, Gabriel H. Gato, is murdered in view of her front window looking on the Panama Road in Jacksonville, Florida, 1897. Allegedly shot by a spurned lover who had stalked her for years, the shooting ran on the front page of the <i>New York Times</i> and resulted in an epic trial, a roaring battle of legal Titans, well-known across the Southeast. Days in court demonstrate again and again the abuse of women, sexism, racism, outright lies and downright chicanery that gripped the Southern city and tore its conscience in two.
<br /><br />
<i>Fatal Switch</i> recounts two compelling murders—both tragic, one grisly. Nine days after the death of Marie Louise Gato, the second murder of a young police lieutenant, William Gruber, dedicated to finding Marie’s killer, was committed in a nocturnal mauling in mysterious circumstances. Never unraveled, it hangs forever in grotesque and prurient weirdness. People then and now must speculate the outcome of the Pitzer trial had Lt. Gruber not been slain.
<br /><br />
Both the killings and the workings of the “justice” system at the time are carefully recorded along with the filibustering operations from Jacksonville in aid of the 1890’s Cuban insurrection against Spain. Marie’s maternal uncle, Jose Alejandro Huau, Cuban born, also a successful cigar manufacturer, headed the Cuban Junta in Florida which provided food, arms and fighters to the island rebellion. Napoleon Broward, local sheriff and future Florida governor, captained his ship, the Three Friends, on the first filibustering mission across the Florida Straits.
</p>
<div style="display: none;">
<i><b>An Excerpt from the Book</b></i>
<p>April 1897. In Jacksonville, Florida, a dusty Southern town, MARIE LOUISE GATO, at her front gate, struggles to breathe, grasps her abdomen and bends toward the ground. In the soft twilight, beside the blossoming jasmine, her cries and the sound of five gunshots float through the open dining room window. </p>
<p>Her family has gathered for dinner. The Spanish American War is heating up and Marie’s relatives are major players sending covert assistance to Cuba. <a href="https://dos.myflorida.com/florida-facts/florida-history/florida-governors/napoleon-bonaparte-broward/" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Captain Napoleon Broward</a>, soon to be governor, was the first filibusterer from Jacksonville. It was a dangerous time.
</p>
<p>The town embraced a large Cuban population fleeing the Ten Years War in Cuba that had begun in 1868. Marie Louise Gato’s father and uncle owned huge Cuban cigar factories. As many as fifteen existed in the city, but theirs were by far the largest. </p>
<p>The lovely Marie, not yet the voluptuous Latina with full power of her long eyelashes and provocative eyes, might someday have adorned a Cuban cigar box in the traditional style. Her cousin, the bewitching Katie Huau Lorraine, opined that Marie’s features, at nineteen, were still too soft and round. Could she really seduce a man into buying a cigar? In time, Marie could have become the beautiful “cigar girl” of historic dimensions, her portrait surrounded by primary colors and gold medallions. But Marie Louise’s entrancing charms were never displayed on a cigar box. On the evening of April 20, 1897, she collapsed over her knees, quivering with pain, a beautiful girl with .38-caliber bullets in her liver. </p>
<p>Adding fuel to the highly charged atmosphere, nine days after Marie’s murder, Lt. WILLIAM GRUBER, the investigating officer, is bludgeoned to death and left sexually exposed. Gruber’s demise, with the knowledge he has intact, concludes the Gato investigation, leaving the town unnerved.
</p>
</div>
<hr id="ENDORSEMENTS" /><p style="text-align: center; width: 100%;"><b>ENDORSEMENTS</b></p>
<p>
"In <i>Fatal Switch: Murder on the Panama Road</i>, author Louise Stanton Warren uses her abundant gifts as a storyteller, combined with her historian’s eye for detail, to provide this riveting account of Jacksonville’s 'trial of the century.' This true story of the sensational 1897 murder of Marie Louise Gato and the subsequent trial of Edward Pitzer is made vivid by the author’s thorough research and ability to bring historic characters to life. It is a fascinating story well told." <br />~ Dr. Wayne Wood, historian and author
</p>
<div style="text-align: center; width: 100%;">____________________________</div>
<p>
"With critical accuracy, in <i>Fatal Switch: Murder on the Panama Road</i>, Louise Stanton Warren has narrated the tale of Jacksonville’s most momentous trial of the modern era—the 1890s, that is. Warren’s rich historical detail of Victorian Northeast Florida provides the backdrop for two compelling murders and a homicide trial. <i>Fatal Switch</i> covers the two murders—both tragic, one grisly—that gripped the city in 1890s, and with a gimlet eye recorded the workings of the 'justice' system at the time. Warren recounts the murder trial of Edward Pitzer with glorious detail—all of the imperfections in a 19th century trial, including sexism, racism and downright chicanery. <i>Fatal Switch</i> is a fine read for fans of both history and courtroom drama."
<br />~ Teresa J. “Teri” Sopp, Criminal Defense Attorney
</p>
<div style="text-align: center; width: 100%;">____________________________</div>
<p>
"<i>Fatal Switch: Murder on the Panama Road</i>, created by author Louise Stanton Warren, sparkles as a literary gem with lush dramatic landscapes and characters who intrigue and enrage us. A young Cuban woman, daughter of a wealthy cigar manufacturer, is murdered steps from her front door in 1897. Allegedly shot by a spurned lover who has stalked her for years, the shooting results in the city’s epic trial, a roaring battle of legal Titans. In-depth documentation will satisfy new audiences as well as the most intent history buffs. Crack this true crime narrative and resurrect a facet of Florida’s past well worth exploring." <br />~ Carol O’Dell, author </p><div style="display: none;">of <i>Mothering Mother: A Daughter’s Humorous and Heartbreaking Memoir</i>, is a PEN Award winner who has been featured on CNN, NBC Miami, Atlanta Live, and the Shriver Report.</div>
<p></p>
<hr />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhAxkWtzvBp-ICvGOMY10GWR_Vunyq-WCwBsazwwcGSLB5B4l04aUjYStZikJnCoVkOD9B8a8QUgI5sZi3mgNtsLM-P70Nox1wQp9CDbL5H0d8wFz9TgSvm_Czb_jeHvHutMTZ8l17MPZNih-MHeYcGhaRIGSLCWy_Ue_MImfmZhU2pW6mCYoM32F9dGw=s474" target="_blank" title="MARIE LOUISE GATO"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="474" data-original-width="198" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhAxkWtzvBp-ICvGOMY10GWR_Vunyq-WCwBsazwwcGSLB5B4l04aUjYStZikJnCoVkOD9B8a8QUgI5sZi3mgNtsLM-P70Nox1wQp9CDbL5H0d8wFz9TgSvm_Czb_jeHvHutMTZ8l17MPZNih-MHeYcGhaRIGSLCWy_Ue_MImfmZhU2pW6mCYoM32F9dGw=s320" style="height: 190px; width: auto;" /></a>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiwA83rRTAWNqExSDF3LbRq9GZNInlg8zxi54K7VRGtCC-Z6f4C58LExCPv9cYXWlACatxeAza_DrdnwNldEIaw5y_I5p-1OE6ENfygc6lc0z0ooBzKWB3_OMn30DTEwQJHw8_2MozV4ymt8ehkQVuR6ljGKr5IaUh57afMmuoGwiW30dpZ75-uu50ovQ" target="_blank" title="Main Street Trolley at
the 2nd Street switch"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="368" data-original-width="591" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiwA83rRTAWNqExSDF3LbRq9GZNInlg8zxi54K7VRGtCC-Z6f4C58LExCPv9cYXWlACatxeAza_DrdnwNldEIaw5y_I5p-1OE6ENfygc6lc0z0ooBzKWB3_OMn30DTEwQJHw8_2MozV4ymt8ehkQVuR6ljGKr5IaUh57afMmuoGwiW30dpZ75-uu50ovQ" style="height: 190px; width: auto;" /></a>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; display: none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiwA83rRTAWNqExSDF3LbRq9GZNInlg8zxi54K7VRGtCC-Z6f4C58LExCPv9cYXWlACatxeAza_DrdnwNldEIaw5y_I5p-1OE6ENfygc6lc0z0ooBzKWB3_OMn30DTEwQJHw8_2MozV4ymt8ehkQVuR6ljGKr5IaUh57afMmuoGwiW30dpZ75-uu50ovQ" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="368" data-original-width="591" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiwA83rRTAWNqExSDF3LbRq9GZNInlg8zxi54K7VRGtCC-Z6f4C58LExCPv9cYXWlACatxeAza_DrdnwNldEIaw5y_I5p-1OE6ENfygc6lc0z0ooBzKWB3_OMn30DTEwQJHw8_2MozV4ymt8ehkQVuR6ljGKr5IaUh57afMmuoGwiW30dpZ75-uu50ovQ" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgrNeP6XDAw-zhf-5ZGNyED010di1hv555HAgny7DKxzVMIyg6QwgtQPztpQ648karRLZym-PuZ7vnLv48WyYK1x0zG9ZHDotuJrie-fmNBhF4FF0Qc83PIz5r5LREcmeqZ9VA7FuJj2Y1paLy18cs-13RsOOZuviAx9iK5gfrZIzdW19ELx1frlFFEiA=s2016" target="_blank" title="MARIE LOUISE GATO"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1512" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgrNeP6XDAw-zhf-5ZGNyED010di1hv555HAgny7DKxzVMIyg6QwgtQPztpQ648karRLZym-PuZ7vnLv48WyYK1x0zG9ZHDotuJrie-fmNBhF4FF0Qc83PIz5r5LREcmeqZ9VA7FuJj2Y1paLy18cs-13RsOOZuviAx9iK5gfrZIzdW19ELx1frlFFEiA=s320" style="height: 190px; width: auto;" /></a>
<div><br /></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhcNyach6S4VDalndhdGxDXcx_hQFvD7ikH9JOeZHGtnxsaD62nXJTCX2U47udOinYJ5QJfxt7rEgBFgS9u3U1vVXgS70P5352PpuGLZ0mVsWr5XhRCSM4EDVqxgTZ4cemhASI1jPwfrrqAcFT5Cq8L-0mG-nCa9xvKtdckr44Mdbwrg58CBwywhU1kVg=s940" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="549" data-original-width="940" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhcNyach6S4VDalndhdGxDXcx_hQFvD7ikH9JOeZHGtnxsaD62nXJTCX2U47udOinYJ5QJfxt7rEgBFgS9u3U1vVXgS70P5352PpuGLZ0mVsWr5XhRCSM4EDVqxgTZ4cemhASI1jPwfrrqAcFT5Cq8L-0mG-nCa9xvKtdckr44Mdbwrg58CBwywhU1kVg=w640-h374" width="565" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i><b>The Gato Family Home on the <a href="https://www.google.com/maps/place/2112+Silver+St,+Jacksonville,+FL+32206" rel="nofollow" target="_blank" title="The current address is 2112 Silver Street, a now-vacant lot.
CLICK for the entry at Google maps.">Panama Road</a></b> <br />Having suffered extensive disrepair, it was demolished in 2001.</i></span></i></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /></div>
<div style="display:none">
<hr><i>Upcoming</i> ...<br>
<a class="mouseover" href="https://louisestantonwarren.blogspot.com/p/book-talks-signings.html"
title="Click for more information
on the Book Talks & Signings"><img class="popup" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisMkmGb2NqiXqKYuqvTHB1QqeXorygGc67XdR7J07Oq1bXWCgkdTKFbuKrOvkar-UN-W4W7bNKUUb9p1I7hy2S2Bed42Jod6rMLt5fEcDqCV4wsjMqztcGP1pMgJWRa1O-jLBBJht4ss_Zpzz0FPROi8SL8E5GWziJCQz7HxCfPRLisCFaUlYp9wl54A/s1600/Flyer%202_Louise%20Stanton%20Warren_2022%20copy.jpg">
<img width="45%" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGxBnjXdPtmw38b8_dKTvGr8M7XFBCKSsi4gxhT7VLgrB4S0KxZRE-P8oBxgvOnO_kJx0DloskL7vSzXRnLJJjQr4GFZQtByY5yrRF7RJzA-BrDFkQHXE4tNK9zMRyJxzCT_YfD0ewJPLeAmcrtp68aIzA41m6YwmezQlCABx8TIQn5FhHKtwkFxrMcA/s1600/library-litchat-sq.png">
<a class="mouseover" href="https://louisestantonwarren.blogspot.com/p/book-talks-signings.html"
title="Click for more information
on the Book Talks & Signings"><img class="popup" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY_OL3EsfqcQhawaATZyfOLmEBYwYKQJ_bCNyb-nGB0SHrFC2MdNq71y8HpnXYaB4kvsoF60K2_jFbTVsrSmDEuR7eiXjcB1A57R3Do6Dwp55Heh0RPgGjh2JoTIxzQK5GlmlJFQVoO27BoXn1__GnayXlZddi_0bZBu72MluUuzRF1yPCOF3Yh_-vtA/s600/FatalSwitch-SanMarcoBooks.png">
<img width="45%" data-original-height="397" data-original-width="398" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVCbf6Y-mOijHC9QaCBP0NSDiVfXUuRjC6kmR5ykk8pAQbbdn32qOxRLZb7Xg-nCR2pFy_QbAh_B8q7TJUugOF_kamTWDZzFRtkVfx3l1oGFxhTV8tEos8FDunuN8eFoN79AvrlT45XReYOlrucPEaTNP8YOafcStuf1vTx9Mz9vD490d19k3G2UEapg/s1600/smb-sq.png"/></a>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://jaxpubliclibrary.libnet.info/frontend-images/editor/jaxpubliclibrary/E-News_Banner_Lit_Chat_Louise_Stanton_Warren_2022.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="200" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjnODg5TZqc94X1yRjykeebtcGlzBxABK_O2f_nKMXyh5jSwl3I11K6tXW-bPt0yOJF5aJU-97GjiqFrQKsFJvet-7Apmz1CbB8NBaU31Mx_zwhGcoB4yjh0dmyW7F-etAg7XtylMkyEzdJobeic2__onDmwpwhf9tYtprmVjgvKQFK4PI7FO9Bp-zcQ/s1600/lit-chat-bookcover.jpg"/></a></div>
<p style="text-align:center;margin-top:-1em;">
<i>Join the author for her</i>
<br><a href="https://louisestantonwarren.blogspot.com/p/book-talks-signings.html"><big><b>JACKSONVILLE PUBLIC LIBRARY "LIT CHAT"</b></big>
<br><b>Saturday, January 14, 2023 at 2 p.m.</b></a>
<br><b>MAIN LIBRARY, 4th Floor in the Ansbacher Map Room</b>
<br>303 N. Laura Street, Jacksonville, FL 32204</b>
<br><br><b><i>Use your Library card to pre-register for the book talk at</i> <a href="https://jaxpubliclibrary.libnet.info/event/7517569" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"><u>https://jaxpubliclibrary.libnet.info/event/7517569</u></a></b>
<br><small>(<i>Pre-registration is not required, but it is encouraged to guarantee your seat!</i>)</small>
</p>
</div>
<div id="New.Flyer" class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a title="Click to open the flyer as a PDF for printing" href="https://drive.google.com/file/d/1EEZXrUgHTeyGWJPpHj8mxjeJ8ww_mSGo/view?usp=sharing" target="_blank"><img width="565" alt="" border="0" data-original-height="662" data-original-width="512" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin-0Am0__m-FUl05GGZBgXQu7cP6Fcu_v3_kwqSmCHcjnvDKWCODhlCyno0BKbr3413R90n5P6OanqtKGCkVdA3nh4oq-OvD9Dxm1kKO2j--X64L7y2I6lRwXXKVgae72Ow4Fckwa5LNcqS-V1omqTmvDG216QpBWCnJltR-sk8xtDCZJBAWvDmoQkqQ/s1600/LSW-FatalSwitch-flyer.png"/></a></div>
<div id="FLYER" class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://drive.google.com/file/d/1-WCvWgtn3DQ4bphpVvpnN2J-32vSUmX1/view" old="https://drive.google.com/file/d/11-xbcMDufQev8yHjBd1QJ5TZ3M02CpW2/view" target="_blank" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="750" data-original-height="1058" data-original-width="816" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCpCWS-WOSaFIgMuLSJJTkG0gRGStWYktCzZYQtMAAoYYr-JgR0NFsmq5ZZA-V6VbxqpJN6pL7u_z1SPfxDyFry9Ahc4tPFh03eezVOc32QGJYQ3XCHPjpkmNkTty-bcFqqL9iZoqYIxBFCsUBnpL-U7LkWTxRzagKlO3-LAHVVqaiw4h1GEBh7qJV7g/s1600/FATAL_SWITCH-flyer.png" old="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiX93Tb4lzRqKzsloWuQ2hzbn-THe7Fcj5m_yIVn5HHb9BJf9SbLkGSi3Ftk1CPdDFvpu2PIswDY6G7ZodR3DgkjRHKCblNCxz3o5cj4gKTNuF3pg6hSW-8NHKNJFy6O9KsprFP2IwEfVLOJOL3FyHh9fPsU-JSzh2OBTPrYpTsgDulOucpA9YCKu-Iw/s1600/FATAL.SWITCH-gen.flyer.png"/></a></div>
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Ed Leinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06444476320126468411noreply@blogger.com0