My wife Wren and I were at a New Year's party when an "expert" on the Sunshine State, who had moved here a year earlier, made a sweeping arc with his hand to include all of Florida, and stated contemptuously, "The problem with Florida is that it has no culture, no history."
I'd heard that line before. The statement is often made by a confident newcomer who believes that history in Florida begins with the opening of Disney World in 1971.
Nothing is more annoying than this misrepresentation of the state. Florida can be accused of many things, but to say that it has no history is absurd. I cannot think of a state in the Union that has played a more rich and colorful role in U.S. history than Florida. Yet, I appreciate it when a remark like this comes up in a situation that gives me an opportunity to do what I enjoy mostÑlecture.
Florida history was a required course when I was in school. We studied the Native Americans, Spanish, French, English and their respective roles in settling the state. I relished the tales of pirates, smugglers, Confederates, and astronauts, all of whom have played a part in Florida's history. The subject continues to fascinate me.
"No history?" I asked incredulously.
The people around us nodded in tacit agreement or mumbled something about "up North."
That was my cue. "No history?" I held the "i" in my history to accentuate my Southern drawl. Heads turned my way as I plunged forward, playing the yokel. "What y'all mean?"
A snicker went around the circle of people and the speaker looked at me. "You see..." he began paternally, "the state I come from was founded by the Pilgrims, who established a colony at Plymouth in 1620. We have historic buildings and monuments. What do you have but tacky tourist shops, fast food restaurants, Mickey Mouse? There's no culture here, no sense of the past."
"What year you say these pilgrims came?"
"In 1620!"
I scratched my chin histrionically and tugged at my mustache. "Well, when your state was still 'undiscovered,' John Cabot spotted Florida. That was in 1498. He was the first European to see the state of Florida."
My opponent was unimpressed. "See the state?" he asked, meaningfully emphasizing "see."
"Yeah. Then about fifteen years after that, in 1513, Ponce de Leon landed somewhere between St. Augustine and Daytona Beach." I paused for effect. "You have heard of Ponce de Leon?"
Silence.
"Of course when Ponce de Leon arrived there were indigenous people living in nearly every region of Florida, The Timucuans lived in Central Florida. The Apalachee and the Tocobaga inhabited the north. In South Florida there were the Calusa and Tequesta. These were just a few of the tribes that had inhabited the peninsula thousands of years before the Europeans."
I took a sip of my beer and addressed the small group gathered around us. "After all, to discount the Native Americans and their history in our state is an ethnocentric view whose time has passed. Don't you agree?"
I didn't give him time to answer before I continued. "Now back when Plymouth was no more than a pile of rocks, Tristan de Luna established a settlement near Pensacola in 1559." I looked at the man who had started the conversation. "That was sixty-one years before the colony was established at Plymouth. You want history?" I asked, warming to my subject. "Do you know what the first permanent city in the United States of America was?"
By now I was drawing either hostile stares or smiles of appreciation for having finally addressed the silly notion that Florida "has no history."
"St. Augustine," I answered my own question. "It is the oldest permanent city in the U.S. and was founded in 1565 by Pedro Menendez de AvilesÑover half a century before Plymouth, and forty-two years before Jamestown, which was the first permanent English settlement."
My friend looked around feebly for support.
Since the history of the United States is written from an English point of view, we often forget that the Spanish were colonizing parts of the U.S. long before the English, and that the French settled at the mouth of the St. Johns River even before the Spanish.
Spain finally relinquished Florida to Britain in 1763 in exchange for CubaÑa country that continues to play a significant role in Florida's history, and always will.
Florida remained loyal to Britain during the American Revolution. When the thirteen colonies declared their independence in 1776, Florida did not join them. Seven years later the Spanish were back in Florida. But in 1821, Spain finally ceded its Florida land holdings to the United States.
"Florida became a state," I continued, "in 1845 and withdrew from the Union in 1861 to join the Confederacy." I took another sip of my beer. "The rest, as they say, is history."
"I haven't seen any monuments to all this so-called history," he snarled.
"Apparently you haven't looked very hard," I shot back. "There is a stretch of Florida's coast from Ormond Beach to St. Augustine that is one of the most scenic parts of coastal Florida left on the Atlantic. If you want to see some remnants of Florida history, take in this stretch of the Atlantic coast. Just above Ormond are the ruins of the Bulow Plantation. Stop off at Washington Oaks Gardens north of Flagler Beach. Marineland gives you a glimpse of Florida's tourists attractions the way they use to be. Marineland is a tiny town on State Road A1A with only one industryÑthe Marineland aquarium located directly on the Atlantic Ocean, where you can see many varieties of sea animals. Even though this is a modern facility, it had an atmosphere reminiscent of an earlier time. Between Marineland and St. Augustine are some of Florida's most pristine beaches and historic sites. Hamlets like Summer Haven have not been built up the way most of Florida's east coast has. Fort Matanzas National Monument is a small fort built by the Spanish to defend the Matanzas River which leads to St. Augustine. More than 330 Frenchmen were massacred here by the Spanish in 1565. The fort can be reached at no cost by a small boat run by the state park system."
I took a deep breath and plunged forward. "Finally, visit the St. Augustine area. The town of St. Augustine is a living museum of life during the Spanish colonial period. Extensive restoration has preserved the quaint houses and narrow streets of old St. Augustine and the Castillo de San Marcos, began by the Spanish in 1672. It took over fifteen years to finish."
By the time I finished sharing this information, I had lost my audience. Only one defenseless senior citizen remained listening to me. She fumbled with the controls on her hearing aid. "What?"
I gesticulated wildly, reenacting de Soto's march inland from Tampa along the peninsula in search of the Fountain of Youth.
"Youth," I hollered.
"What?"
"The fountain of youth," I screamed into her ear. The host of the party came over. He was a polite, well-dressed man. He looked knowingly at the beer can in my hand. My wife had long since disappeared and was probably denying that she knew me.
"It's late", the host suggested.
I looked around for the know-it-all who had gotten me started by asserting that Florida had no history. But he had apparently left.
With the finesse of a Southern gentleman, I agreed that, yes, it was late. But I was satisfied. I had vanquished the cad who had slandered the honor of the Sunshine State.
At least, I reasoned, the next time he voiced an opinion on Florida, he would make sure that there were no natives within earshot, or anyone else intelligent enough to know that Florida had inspired pirates, conquerors, adventurers and dreamers long before Walt Disney.
