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The 1980s
Old Sebastian Is Still Here,
You Have To Look a Little Harder To Find It A drive through Sebastian reveals many of the old homesteads that were here before the current building boom took place. Many of these old houses hold the secrets to the activities of the past in Sebastian, that was once a little fishing village on the river. Some have been renovated and recycled into present-day businesses, Conners Realty on U.S. l, once the opera house with a stage upstairs, and later a movie theatre now renders its space to the buying and selling of real estate. The first thing that catches your eye on Palmer Dr., is a house with an aeration tank and a swing in a tree. This is the kind of swing, in which lovers could court, or spoon at the moon, or still do, and many days just lay back and feel the gentle breeze as they sway back and forth. In the days when these homes were built no one worried about their air conditioning bills in the summer. Just a little north of Connors is the home of, "centenarian plus one," Bamma Lawson, right next door to the Vickers (famous for their orange groves in Indian River County.) A quick turn off Main St. to Louisiana Ave. past the city garage to Palmetto Ave., there are early l900 homes on either side of the road. The sightseer is treated to a home with porch swings at l036 Palmetto, a cozy looking cottage with avocado trees and a wire fence. Another old home that has been renovated for current use as a business is where Sebastian Antiques is presently located one block north of Main St. facing the railroad tracks. Stately palm trees grace this historic old front yard. Sebastian is fast losing its fishing village atmosphere, giving way to develoment of modern homes, condominiums, time sharing apartments, planned unit developments, shopping centers and other modern conveniences. Next week, we'll take you down Indian River Dr., where some of the old fish houses and crab food companies are still located.
Sign's Origin Still a Mystery Despite living in Sebastian all his life, Mayor Pat Flood did not know. Even though he used to be on the city council, Charles Zimmer could not say when it happened. And although he was responsible for the formation of the city, Jim Vocelle wasn't sure either. Maybe the pelican that graces the city of Sebastian sign knows when and why the population is touted as "4,600 friendly people & 6 ole grouches!" are in the city of Sebastian. "We used to have a weak mayor type of council," Flood explained. "That is where the 'six ole grouches' come from." When the sign was renewed in l97l, the six was never changed, Flood said. "It should have been changed to five ole grouches." Wrong, said Councilman Richard Szeluga. "At that time I believe it was referring to the council and clerk." No. that cannot be correct, Councilman Robert Fitzmaurice said. "She (City Clerk Debbie Kragas) is not old." Then maybe resident Anne Dewhurst is right. "I understood it (the sixth grouch) was the chief of police." That's not it either, longtime resident Sallydale Wimbrow said. "I used to go to the meetings but he (former Police Chief Jim Cummins) was never a grouch." Former City Clerk Florence Phalan couldn't pinpoint the grouches but "the only thing I know about that is it is Col. A.T. Jordan's idea. "It started with 800 people and six ole grouches" about 20 years ago, she said. Longtime resident Rodney Kroegel has a different theory. "I don't know if they were imaginary or if there really were that many - probably some of the citizens arond here." That could be, Vocelle said, considering the origin of Sebastian. See, Sebastian used to be the focal point of smuggling contraband liquor from Bimini in the l920s. Seems an Indian River County sheriff and a Melbourne man went to a federal penitentiary for the smuggling. Well, the old families in the area wanted "to organize a town and have some degree of control over what was happening," Vocelle said. In l924, people who lived within an area who wished to be incorporated could call a meeting of registered voters and if two-thirds came they could become a city, he said. No vote was necessary. When Vocelle published the notice, the group that was opposing it told people to stay away from the meeting. But their curiosity got the better of them, Vocelle said. They showed up at the meeting and were included in the roll call of registered voers. "When they woke up they found they were incorporated." And later there was this funny sign down the street talking about 800 residents and six ole grouches.
'Aunt Bamma Day' Declared
Tuesday will be officially designated "Bamma Lawson Day" in Sebastian as the entire city joins that reluctant dignitary in the celebration of her l00th birthday. Vice Mayor Everett Gass and members of the Sebastian City Council will be on hand to present the proclamation, flowers and an extra-secial birthday cake to "Aunt Bamma" during a Tuesday afternoon reception at the Lawson home at l07 U.S.l. The reception is scheduled to run from 2 to 4 p.m. Tuesday. Ramona Vickers, acting as spokesman for the Vickers family, of which Aunt Bamma is a treasured member, encouraged area residents to drop by, "but not too many at one time." "Aunt Bamma enjoys having company, but she finds it very irritating if she can't hear all the conversation at one time," Mrs. Vickers explained. "Too many people and too many conversations going at once is very agitating for her." The daughter of Stephen and Sarah Vickers, Aunt Bamma - christened Balmar, according to the family Bible - arrived in the community that was to become Sebastian with her parents and several siblings in Janary l908. She distinctly remembers landing at the train depot at 7:30 p.m. that January evening, an unceremonious ending to a journey that began in Hahira, Ga. The Georgia delegation was met by Bamma's older brothers, Frank and George, who had preceded the family south in l903. The brothers had been busy buying land, building a family home and planting the beginnings of the Vicker family groves, still flourishing today as Vickers Citrus. The train station at which Aunt Bamma alighted 74 years ago figured prominently in the life of the community for a long time to come. "Everybody met at the train depot every evening around 7 p.m.," Aunt Bamma recently recalled. "We'd wait for the mail to be put up, and we'd all just visit." Another popular meeting place in preincorporation Sebastian was the town hall, located in the stately, two-storied wooden structure which now houses Connor Realty, just south of the Lawson house on U.S.l. "That building (built in l908) was outfitted nice enough to have been on Broadway in New York and been all right," Aunt Bamma declared with pride. As the staging area for the community's frequent plays, social gatherings and movie screenings, it was equipped with proper lighting fixtures and an elaborate, hand-painted roll-up curtain that signalled starts, stops and scene changes in every production. Aunt Bamma remembers with a twinkle her first role on that stage, in a play called "Ye Olde School." "We had good plays there," she asserted, "plays of all kinds." Later, Rodney Kroegel became the town' first theatreical projectionist, screening movies for the locals and visitors every Saturday and Sunday evening in the hall. In l909, Bamma Vickers married Parris Lawson, a carpenter and the brother-in-law of Paul Kroegel, the first federal game warden, appointed by President Theodore Roosevelt. "Parris was 30 and I was 25," she smiled in recollection. "We weren't teenagers, like so many of them are today." She remembers picking wildflowers for her wedding decorations from the banks of a canal that once ran where Whispering Palms Mobile Home Village stands now. Aunt Bamma still shares her home with their son, Basil. In l9ll, Bamma Lawson and a friend opened a dress and hat-making shop in Sebastian. She also worked for a time as a packer in the vegetable and citrus packing houses that stood west of the railroad tracks, earning a queenly sum of about $20 per week. To further supplement their income, the young Lawsons boarded teachers from the area's numerous small schoolhouses. Among her cherished collection of old photographs - Parris Lawson was an accomplished photographer - is one of Aunt Bamma on a bicycle. It's a picture that still elicits a fond snort of disapproval from that lady. "It seems," Ramona Vickers reported, "that Uncle Parris took all the money they collected from the boarders in one week and ordered that bicycle for her, which she thought was just terrible." Aunt Bamma learned to ride the bike among the ruts of the wagon track that was Old Dixie Highway and later became U.S.l. She skinned her knees on the shell used to fill in the deeply worn wheel ruts. Among Aunt Bamma's fondest memories are the part she and her husband played in the lives of the area's young people by providing what served as the community's first public library, housed in their own home. "Our house was always open to the children, and they were in and out of here all the time," Aunt Bamma recalled, gazing around the home she has occupied for 7l years. "We had lots of books then," she said, "and the children would read them, take them home and bring them back. They were all good books, too. We didn't have any bad books." The Lawsons' place in the lives of Sebastian's young people was epitomized for Aunt Bamma in the overheard conversation of two little girls: "When we tell our mothers we're going to Mrs. Lawson's to play, they don't worry about us," Aunt Bamma remembers the words with a smile. "I guess that just about explains everything." In recognition of her centennial birhday and the fact that one of her brothers built the original Methodist Church in Sebastian, the Rev. Warren F. Huntington, pastor of the United Methodist Church of Sebastian, plans to ring the church bell l00 times Tuesday.
A Search For Papayas Bring Hidden Treasure In Roseland
By Shirley Tyler An interesting bit of local history is being unearthed along the banks of the Sebastian River by a Roseland woman who accidentally dug up some rare and antique bottles while gathering plants. Pat Mitchell who lives in a cottage in Roseland near the mouth of the Sebastian River has a collection of hundreds of rare and colorful bottles she found under a few feet of muck and sand along the rivers' edge and in the mangrove swamp near her home. "I was digging for papayas along the river when I found these," she said displaying a collection of bottles dating back to the mid eighteen hundreds. Some in hues of bright blue, green, amber and black glass look as if they were hand blown. Many contained home remedies at one time for ailments that claim to cure everything from diarrhea to colera. The bottles believed to have been dumped in approximately the same garbage pile, year after year on land that was once an old plantation built in l879. The house still stands on the site where the bottles are being fond. "I can't use a rake or shovel, for fear of breaking the precious glass," Mrs. Mitchell says. "It's amazing to me how these women from back then, drank this stuff up for all kinds of female trouble when most of it was 95 percent alcohol. Whoever lived here must have been a real hypocrondriac from the looks of all these medicine bottles," Pat remarked. Other bottles held labels such as Chamberlains's Colic, Colera and Diarrhea Remedy, Dr. Kilmer's Swamp Root Kidney Liver and Bladder Remedy; Johnsons Chill & Fever Tonic: Sloan's Liniment,, Kills Pain: Little Bo Peep Ammonia; Souders, Elegant, Flavoring Extracts, Royal Remedy and Extract Co. Dayton, Ohio. If those don't titilate your senses, how about some Mexican Mustang Liniment or a little remedy from the Piso Company. "I'd be afraid to take anything from a Piso Company, wouldn't you?" she asked, jokingly. Using a metal probe to locate the hidden glass treasures, Pat carefully digs around in the mud. "This cottage was created from old packing crates back in the late l800's," she remarked and the owners lived in the big old house that is still standing secluded by huge oaks on the bluff overlooking the river, she said. "I have friends who go out all the time looking for gold and silver treasure coins and who don't bring back as much as I do," Mrs. Mitchell added. Using old Florida maps from l86l to l923 in researching the origin of the area she has discovered the ruins of an old town named "New Haven" on the south fork of the Sebastian River. It's a wonder the way those old towns would appear on a map in l888 but be gone by the l902 edition. "Wonder where they went," she mused. "Although, in looking back into the history of this area in the library, I can see where it wasn't unusual for towns to spring up and disappear 20 years later. Mosquitoes and diseases were a real problem in those days." It was an article in Colliers Magazine back in the early l900's that exposed the poisons contained in a lot of so called remedies, Pat said. The article called attention to such patent medicine as Aunt Lucy's Nerve Bitters: Bloaters Stomache Bitters and Infants Soothing Syrup. They were all mostly alcohol or dangerous drugs the article said. But the most surprising thing of all is that many of the bottles shown in the old l900 Collier's article were identical to the bottles, Pat Mitchell is digging up in her back yard in l98l. The property currently owned by Donald and Dorothy Speck dates back to the Spaniards before Florida became a state. Old abstracts show that Don George Flemmings was deeded the property by the King of Spain in l8l5 and was the subject of a long court battle by later owners, Don George Flemming's heirs.
Letters To The Editor
Roseland or Ercildoune? Dear Editor, The world has benefitted by Serendipity as well as by coincidence. The latter amazed me recently: I received a letter from Dr. Kip Kelso two weeks ago. He had planned, with an OK from our group, to release it to the editor. While awaiting our review meeting, an article entitled "Micco Soothed the Worries of President Cleveland" appeared in the Florida Today, dated Nov. l8. Although it has made Dr. Kelso's letter less forceful, I enclose it. He had given a copy to Tommy Thomas, intergovernmental finance co-ordinator, and to Maggie Bowman, county commissioner, for their critique. From their viewpoint, it was quite favorable. A copy is enclosed.
Sincerely, {Editor's note: The following is the letter written by Dr. Kip G. Kelso.) Roseland. A sign greeted me as I approached Indian River County on North U.S.l. "Nothing," I told myself emphatically, "could be further from the truth. This area is Ercildoune," I continued, "Named for the old Hotel which graced the high bluff above the river in the latter part of the l9th Century." A wintering place for many notables, it was an escape, so the story goes for Grover Cleveland. A frame structure, its large veranda faced the junction of the Sebastian and Indian River effecting an incomparable view. The grounds, once beautifully landscaped, displayed remnants of the flower and plants surronding the old oyster lime foundation as late as l965. Many times in the past, I explored the area when, truly, it was jungle. Hjalmer Kjorsvik, who owned the land and the contiguous 65 acres, guided me to the lot on the precipitous bluff above the river where my office was soon located. He gave me the lot and, Kip Wagner, my old partner in Real Eight, pushed the first road through. Aptly named, Ercildoune is Celtic for Prospect Bluff. Its Scottish antecedent is today called Earlston, a modern contraction, located in the Borderlands. In the l2th Century, it was the home of Thomas The Rhymer and The Rhyming Tower and is, as Ercildoune, located on a bluff at the confluence of the rivers. In our Ercildoune other history also abounds. Westward, along the Sebastian river, one sees the pilings of a wooden bridge, a reminder of the Ashley Gang's last stand in the l920's. A map locating a sunken Spanish Long Boat in the river below was possessed by the late Edgerton Carter. The romance of the crudely drawn map thrilled his boys, as well as me, and though we searched many times, we failed in our quest. Years later, Edge laughed and told me he had drawn it himself. Since the Spanish had first explored the site in the early l6th Century, the map seemed more logical than fantasy. Over the years, as the Ercildoune jungle has given way to progress, the shell mounds of earlier inhabitants were exposed and, in some instances were, sad to say, used for roads. Legends and stories of Ercildoune continue to this day and should be rememered in the future. Although unincorporated Roseland may have expansionist dreams, mail delivery and all that, her ambition should not be hindered, we would, however, wish her to exclude our historical area and change the signs on U.S. l from Roseland to Ercildoune. Preserve our history, Keep our identity. Change the signs.
Dr. Kip G. Kelso, M.D.
Sebastian Historical Group Works On Book
Lately, Ruth Warner has found herself "talking to gravestones." Ramona Vickers has been spending a lot of time, her nose in library tomes. George and Peg Keyes have been reviewing old mail. Quite old. These particular letters and packages were delivered to Micco in l884. And Betty Mockridge has been out sleuthing with the best of them, recording memories of oldtime Sebatianites. Clearly, something's afoot. In fact, the Sebastian river Area Historical Society, just a year old, is up to a book, a history, a recorded memory of "roughly Sebastian south, to Wabasso, west to about I-95," said Keyes, grinning. The time frame is as open as are Sebastian skies, said book chairman Mrs. Vickers. "We're going to go back as far as we can." Armed with a list of the names of some l25 people to be interviewed, bolstered by Bob Cointepoix's research of Pelican Island and the famous naturalists drawn to study its wildlife, fortified by the Keyes' collection of historical photograhs and records, braced by Dr. Harry Beller's accounts of early black history and shored up by Mrs. Warner's Indian river Genealogial society work, which had her tramping the woods, making a census of local cemeteries, the book is sure to be a comer. In its first stages, the book is making Sherlocks of book committee members, who,in addition to those names mentoined, include Maysie Beller, Arline Westfahl, Historical Society President Jean Bertram, Gerry Warner, Cora Sadler, Dr. and Mrs. James Flaherty, William and Doris Jorgensen and George and Dot Schum. "It's more or less detective work," said Mrs. Bertram of the book material gathering to date. "We start with one name and another resident's name pops up and we track that down to uncover more." Census records, library reference books, old newspaper stories, old photograph albums and old-timers' memories make up some of the book-to-be's reservoir. "This book is a process that Betty Mockridge once described as growing like Topsy," said Mrs. Vickers. How long will the book be? Will the book be self-published or put out by a publishing company? When will the final version appear on the scene? These are all questions the committee has left unanswered as yet, said Mrs. Vickers, who added with assurance, "When the time comes, we'll figure out how to put all the material together in book form." Nor will this history book be the dry stuff of ne'r turned page. "We want to write a book about the people and the history of the area, the people's habits and customs and way of life." said Mrs. Bertram.
'No Occupancy' Sign Hung Upon 80-Year Old Church
An 80-year tradition ended this week at Macedonia Baptist Church, as Sebastian city officils tacked "No Occupancy" signs on the tiny, aged structure. Built in l907, the church has been the meeting place for generations of Sebastian's black worshippers. Building inspectors with the city say the church on Bob Circle no longer is safe for occupancy. Rev. Alfred Matthews, pastor of the church for the past eight years, agreed to vacate the premises, but he says his congregation of one dozen will continue to meet on the church grounds the first and fourth Sunday of each month. Sebastian Building Official Bruce Cooper says the city recognized the church's historical significance and has no plans to remove the structure - only to prevent its use for safety reasons. "My concern is that we don't want to go in and condemn the place, and then tear it down. Hopefully, somebody will be able to restore it." Cooper says the building has severe termite damage, electrical and plumbing deficiencies and dry rot. "It's deplorable - it's in pretty bad shape. But Matthews says he sees the building as structurally safe. "I don't see any great damage to the building." In recent years, the church has been used only on first and fourth Sundays. On a good Sunday, all of the l2 or l3 members will crowd together on a select few of the church's 2l pews. More typically, the congregation consists of around eight faithful. But Mary Williams, 76, remembers another time, when the pews were full and families walked for miles to attend Sunday services and dinner on the ground. She has been a member of the church since l929, when she moved with her family from Fort Pierce to Sebastian. Her husband, Charlie, once was a deacon of the church. They owned the land that surrounds much of the church. "It had a big membership then, because Sebastian had a lot of colored people - there was farming, grove work and a lot of them worked on the railroad. That was the only church for coloreds in Sebastian." During funeral services not everyone could fit inside, so an addition was built in the l940s, Ms. Williams recalled. Since there was little room to expand on the west, and there was no need to change the church front, it was at that time the church was reversed to face east instead of west. At that time, the church was used nearly every day of the week for prayer and deacon meetings, choir practice and other get-togethers. On Sundays, after church, the pastor generally would have lunch at the home of one of the deacons. All day services were held once a month, and everybody would bring a dish to contribute to the lunch. Soda, chicken, cakes and pies - "anything good to eat," Ms. Williams remembered. Over time, members moved away and others died. A few years ago Ms. Williams, too, moved to Melbourne, leaving her Sebastian home of 50 years. "But I still think of it as home." Today, communion services are held the first Sunday, while the last Sunday generally is reserved for all-day services, with preachings at ll a.m. and 3 p.m. There's still an occasional pot dinner in between, in a stand-alone dining room alongside the church. Ms. Williams said that, while she hopes to see the building fixed up, its condemnation will not affect the group's worship. "We want to stay there - right there - even if we have to meet in the dining room, or on the ground." Matthews, who also serves as assistant pastor of Macedonia Baptist Church in Melbourne, said he will urge his congregation during the group's next service - July 26 - to make plans either to remodel or replace the church on the same site. Sebastian River Area Historical Society members say they, too, would like to ensure the church is not razed. According to Society member Dr.Harry Beller, a state or federal grant may be available to help restore the church. The property where the church stands originally was deeded by a white couple, Murray and Sarah Hall, to three black trustees of the church,under a warranty deed dated Feb. l8, l907. The property was conveyed with the stipulation that it be used for worship at least four sundays each month. If this rule was broken, the property was to revert to the Halls or their heirs. The name Macedonia was chosen, Matthews suggested, because of the Apostle Paul's plea for his fellow Christians to "come to Macedonia and help" According to Beller, the name holds even deeper significance. Macedonia once was the most powerful country in the Aegean Sea area. Archaelogists have uncovered evidence of synagogues there dating centuries before the great Spanish Inqisition. This indicates that the Macedonians were very tolerant of the religions of others, he said. Now, at least for the time being, the Sebastian Macedonians also find themselves in a state of tolerance. And they, too, are asking for others to come to Macedonia and help. Mr. Williams said she hopes it's soon. "But I feel whatever God's will is, it's going to be done - whether it's open or closed or what."
City, State Seal Plaques Adorn Sebastian City Hall
A crowd gathered at Sebastian City Hall Saturday morning to witness the unveiling of the city's 60th birthday present from the Fourth of July Committee. Giant wooden plaques of the state seal and the city of Sebastian's seal now adorn the front of city hall. The gift was presented at the birthday breakfast and program to celebrate Sebastians's 60th year. Jerry Nappi, chairman of the Fourth of July committee, supervised the birthday production. Committee member Jesse Brock briefly highlighted Sebastian's history. "The history of Sebastian actually started in the l800s. It was a favorite stop-over point for boat and wagon traffic along the river," Brock said. "A lot has transpired in Sebastian since those days," he said. "Sebastian is now a hub of activity. It has grown steadily from the early l900s to the present." He said Sebastian has it all - freshwater fishing, saltwater fishing, recreation, and a subtropical climate. "And we're the home of Pelican Island, the first bird sanctuary in the country," Brock said. He added that the people are the most important part of Sebastian. He closed his speech saying, "Looking to the past is great, but looking to the future is even better." Mayor Jim Gallagher took a few minutes to praise the community pride that he said is evident in Sebastian. "Sebastian is not just a point on a map," he said. "It is the people of this community. The people who live here are the city of Sebastian." The mayor said he hopes the community pride will continue long past the birthday celebration. He ended by saying, "Happy Birthday Sebastian!" Spectators then looked on as the mayor, Nappi and city council members tugged at the cord that unveiled the two seals.
Pelican Island Garden Club Erects Marker
The Pelican Island Garden Club dedicated on May 28 a trail marker in Sebastian recognizing the contributions of William Bartram, the first noted American ornithologist, who spent four years exploring Florida. Sebastian is the southernmost of Bartram's travels. Mrs. C.H. Blanchard, Bartram Trail chairman of the Deep South Region of the National Council of State Garden Clubs; Mrs. R.M. Pyle Jr., Bartram marker state chairman of the Florida Federation of Garden Clubs; Mrs. Walter Maneikis, past president of PIGC; and Capt. Charles DuToit, naturalist for the Florida Department of Natural Resources,have worked closely together for several months doing research on the Bartram Trail and its relationship to Sebastian. This project was sponsored by the Deep South Region of the NCSGC, FFGC, one of the six participating states, has the largest membership with approximately 30,000 members. John and William Bartram, father and son, were distinguished American scientists. In addition to being an ornithologist, William wrote a book, "Bartram's Travels," about the four years he spent exploring Florida. DuToit noted that Bartram's book is the best source of information on the flora and fauna of that period, and is still used today in the efforts to retain the natural Florida in state parks. John Bartram (l699-l777), William's father, was a Quaker botanist, who, in l728, founded the first botanical garden in America located in Pennsylvania. His collection of native plant was among the finest in the United States, and he was one of the first botanists to produce a hybrid. John Bartram helped to found the American Philosophical Society and was a member of royal societies in London and Stockholm. He was also a close friend of Benjamin Franklin. Mrs. Maneikis, Bartram Trail chairman of the PIGC, contributed to researching and documenting the travels of Bartram as he covered extensively the east coast of Florida. Mrs. Maneikis and her assistant Mrs. Ned Campbell, immediate past president of PIGC, helped obtain the William Bartram Trail marker,located off U.S.l at Riverview Park, for Sebastian. At the May 28 dedication, Mrs. Robert Cointepoix, president of the Pelican Island Garden Club, presided. The Rev. Morgan Gray from St. Elizabeth's Episcopal Church, Sebastian, gave the invocation. At the dedication, FFGC chairmen were recognized: Mrs. John Ethridge, PIGC; Mrs. James Acker, Garden Club of Indian River County; and Mrs. Edward Schaag, Garden Club of Palm Beach and newly elected District l0 director. Vice Mayor Gene Harris of Sebastian read a proclamation on behalf of Mayor Jim Gallagher and presented it to the guest speaker, Mrs. Augustus F. Williams Jr., president of the FFGC. Harris stated that the city of Sebastian recognized the Pelican Island Garden Club, an organization dedicatd to the community, for its work with regard to the installation of the William Bartram Trail marker. At the conclusion of the ceremony, a reception was held at the Sebastian Yacht Club.
City Marks Six Decades Of 'Success'
SEBASTIAN - From a fishing hamlet and an overnight stop for pioneers' wagons in the l800s, the city of Sebastian has grown to boast more than 6,000 residents, a bustling economy and the nation's firt wildlife sanctuary. And on Saturday, the city celebrated its success. About 75 residents and officials braved the morning's brisk temperatures and cool winds to pay homage to the city on its 60th birthday. "Sebastian has it all for anyone who applies himself," Jesse Brock proudly told city residents at Saturday's celebration. Brock is a member of the city's Fourth of July committee, which sponsored the event. "Looking past is great, but looking forward is even better." A group of citizens incorporatd Sebastian into a town 60 years ago Saturday. Mayor Jim Gallagher said it has been the residents' united spirit that has made the city successful. "In truth, it's not really a point on the map," he said. "It's the people who live here who are the city of Sebastian. "I'm sincerely humbled by this awesome display of dedication," Gallagher said. "I'm proud to say to you, 'Happy birthday Sebastian.'" The highlight of saturday's celebration was the unveiling of two large plaques outside City Hall. On the west side of the building is the seal of Florida and on the east side is the city's seal. The two 6-by-6-foot redwood seals were designed by Sebastian resident Curt Oxford. A woodcarver, Oxford said it was an honor to see his work displayed on City Hall. "I've had a lot of great things happen in the last few years, but I'll tell you this is about the greatest," he said. The area now known as Sebastian was a stopping point for wagons and boat traffic traveling between Jacksonville and St. Augustine to Miami during the l800s, Brock said. August Park, from Danzig, Germany, considered to be the first permanent resident of Indian River County, built a home for his family in Sebatian in l865. Tiring of traveling by sailboat to his Titusville business, he opened shop in Sebastian. In l874,the community was named New Haven after resident Thomas New, the first U.S.postmaster. Sylvanus Kitching, the second postmaster of New Haven, is credited with changing the town's name to Sebastian in l884, using the Spanish title to name the Sebastian River. To improve commerce and fishing, Sebastian residents Charlie Sembler and a man known only by his last name, "Hicks," attempted to dredge the Sebastian Inlet. At the time, Brock said, the inlet was so narrow one could step across it. Their effort failed, but out of it grew the Sebastian Inlet Commission which eventually was successful at dredging the inlet. After that, "It was the hub of activity," Brock said. "It had the Fellsmere Railway and the Indian River running through it, and it had new enterprise and commerce. "Sebastian has it all," he said. "It has freshwater fishing, saltwater fishing and Pelican Island." Pelican Island, in the Indian river, was the first wildlife sanctuary in the United States. The city of Sebastian has resided in three counties. The town originally was in Brevard County, which became St. Lucie when the county line was relocated in l855. Sebastian became a part of Indian River County when that county was established in l924.
Steam train's engineer dies at age 94
FELLSMERE - When a wood-burning steam train ran between Fellsmere and Sebastian, Jesse E. Dixon was its engineer. For 25 years - from the train's founding in l9l2 until it stopped for good in l937 - he tended the narrow-guage train as it puffed-puffed-puffed its way to and from the two northern Indian River County communities. The train linked up with the Florida East Coast Railway Co. tracks in Sebastian. Now the man who saw the passing of the county's team train has himself passed away. Dixon, 94, of North Orange Street, Fellsmere, died Saturday during a trip to his daughter's home in New Jersey. "Ah, he used to have some stories about that train," said his son, Orville Dixon of Fort Lauderdale. "Sometimes the train would fall off the track. "And it ran in the days when there were no fences. So they'd have to get out and move the cows off the track," he said. Talk of boom days in florida lured the elder Dixon here from a job on the Southern Pacific Railroad in California. He saw Fellsmere flower briefly as an agricultural paradise that enticed farmers from around the nation, including the woman to whom he was married for 64 years. His wife, Ida, and her father, George F. Green, came here from the cotton fields of Texas, the son said. For a while the Greens even had a gin to process cotton grown round Fellsmere. Dixon saw a massive flood drown Fellsmere's dreams in l9l5. But he stuck it out and the train hauled muck for fertilizer until the train became uneconomical to run, the son said. Then Dixon worked as an electrician for the Fellsmere Sugar Co. until his retirement in l962. His wife died almost two years ago. Dixon's survivors include his son; daughter, Carol Jennings of Pennsauken, N.J.; six granchildren; and four great-grandchildren. Funeral services are scheduled for 2 p.m. Thursday at Cox-Gifford-Romani Funeral Home in Vero Beach. Calling hours are scheduled for 7-9 p.m. today at the funeral home. Until his death,he kept a picture of the train, his son said. "He was its first and only engineer."
Marian Fell Library Structure Restored
Thanks to the help of the readers of Russian folk tales, the taxpayers of Florida, the Indian River County Historical Society and volunteers from Fellsmere, the Marian Fell Library is open for business again. The oldest library in the county and one of the oldest on the state's east coast reopened last week after being closed a half-year for a $l0,000 renovation project. Now that the structure has been restored, volunteers will be working on restoring the landscaping to imitate how the library grounds looked 70 year ago. The Exchange Club of Fellsmere has scheduled a workday for Saturday to plant trees and shrubbery to recreate the landscape scheme shown in a l920's vintage photo of the library. Fran Adams of Fellsmere Nurseries is donating the plants and will supervise the landscape work, according to Ruth Stanbridge, chairman of the Grants Research Committee of the historical society. The newly completed restoration work was also aimed at making the library look much like it did in l9l5 when it was first built. Many people are not aware that the library was built with the royalties from the translation of Russian folk tales to English which were made by the daughter of the founding father of Fellsmere. The translations were made by Marian Fell, the library's namesake and the daughter of Nelson Fell, according to Stanbridge. Nelson Fell was an engineer from England who bought up a large tract of swampy property, drained it and divided it up for farms. In old English, a "mere"is a marsh, hence the town's name came from Nelson Fell's swamp. The library, which is now owned by the Fellsmere Library Association, has been in continuous operation as a library its entire life. The library association is one of the oldest federated women's organizations on the Treasure Coast, according to Stanbridge. The $5,000 grant from the state Bureau of Historic Preservation that helped fund the restoration work was obtained by the historical society on behalf of the library association, Stanbrige said. The society put up a matching grant of $5,000. The grant marks the first of its type for any projects in Fellsmere and only the second one for Indian River County, Stanbridge said, noting a similar grant was obtained to restore the old railroad station in Vero Beach. The major problem addressed in the restoration work at the library involved stabilizing the foundation of the building. Settling of the foundation caused the chimney to begin separating from the building which was causing cracks in the roof and related problems, Standbridge said. Other work included refinishing the original hardood floors, painting the interior, repairing the roof and renovating the portico. Although that work was aimed at restoring the building to its original condition and design, a couple of new features were added. Those included adding a ramp to accomodate the handicapped to the front portico and adding a back porch. Fortunately, the basic structure was in good shape and no really major repair work was needed, Stanbridge said. "Mostly, it needed some tender loving care, the big thing was the foundation, she said. Sebastian Librarian Lynn Walsh, who is also officially the librarian for the Marian Fell Library, said she was thrilled about the work. "The outside looks beautiful, and on the inside, the floor is just gorgeous. The old hardwood floor is magnificent. Now, we just have to worry about 'maintaining' it," Walsh said. "There is a much cleaner feeling to the building now. I think the children will enjoy it. They enoyed it before, but now, it's even more inviting," she added. Although no advance notice was given that the library was reopening last Monday, 25 people came in between 2 and 6 p.m. that day, Walsh said. We had that many people come and all we did was turn around the open sign," Walsh said. The library will be open Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays from 2 to 6 p.m., and in March, the library will begin offering children's programs. A Wednesday afternoon children's story hour is being planned, something that was very popular last years. For that matter, the library itelf was pretty popular while it was open the first six months of l988. Library records show that in January to July of l988, 3,060 people went to the library; 253 borrower's cards were issued; 3,446 books were checked out: 896 people attended the special programs; 74 volunteer hours were logged and l55 refrence quetions were processed. The library has 2,574 books which may be checked out, Walsh said, as well as about l,000 volumes of older books that are too aged and delicate to be taken out of the facility.
Kip Kelso Loves, Enriches North County
"My wife was born in St. Augustine. Being l50 miles from the Gulf in Texas was just too far for a Floridian used to the water." Dr. Kip Kelso received his medical degree from the University of Oklahoma, interned at Tampa General and took his residency in internal medicine at Baptist Memorial Hospital, San Antonio, Texas. Fredonia Becker Kelso took her nurse's training at Jackson Memorial Hospital in Miami and was working at Tampa General when the two met. Kelso's grandfather was in the first graduation class of the University of Cincinnati Medical School in l849. He became a major in the Army medical corps during the Civil War. His grandfather rceived his medical degree from the Chicago Medical School, now Northwestern. His father was also a graduate of Northwestern. Despite a successful practice in Texas, the Kelsos returned to the Tampa area. "I applied to the state board of health and there I met Dr. George Dane, who told me about an opening for a health officer in Indian River County. "Becky and I drove through a horrendous rainstorm. We passed a deserted Patrick Air Force Base with a guardhouse nearly being blown away by the wind and the waves. We looked at each other dismally. We crossed on the old Eau Gallie causeway and drove to Vero Beach." After a wonderful dinner in the basement restaurant in the old Del Mar Hotel and an evening and night in a motel on Miracle Mile," which at that time was certainly uptown." the Kelsos decided to move here. As public health officer for the area - Indian River, St. Lucie, Martin and Okeechobee counties - Kelso found much to be done. he cleaned up the Vero Beach water plant, which had been allowed to deteriorate. The sewers in Vero Beach had been laid in l926 and had never been mapped. Before starting on this, he went back into private practice. "There were five doctors in Vero. I was an outcast because I was with the State board of health." he was told there was no room here for another doctor. "So I isolated myself in Fellsmere and Sebastian. I was a specialist in internal medicine, but my hospital privileges were contingent upon some general pratice, including obstetrics. "I bought a little building in Fellsmere for $500. For another $200 I had it fixed up. My nurse, Carrie Woodland, was unique. Her husband had been a vice president of Detecto scales and I was the only doctor in the U.S. whose nurse drove to work in a Cadillac. "I also set up an office in Sebastian in the building that now houses Pottinger's Funeral Home." The sugar mill sent him many patients and his practice grew. "This was the boondocks, but I loved it." Soon he outgrew his two offices and looked around for property to buy. One of his patients, Hjalmr Kjorsvik, had been a pineapple planter on John's Island until the big freeze wiped out the crop. Kjorsvik had bought 65 acres of land on the Sebastian River. They built on a riverbank, "probably a gigantic oyster mound, two blocks from the old Ercildone Hotel, where Grover Cleveland spent his winters." The old foundations, made from oyster shell for lime, "were so tough we were unable to chip them. Later I came across a picture of the old hotel and how it was. "I am a Scot by ancestry and the name Ercildoune, which in Celtic means 'Prospect Fort," interested me. The bluff overlooked both the Indian and Sebastian river and was an impregnable fortress for the Ais Indians." His office is still there. "The building looks a little tinny now, but at the time we were really proud of it." Kelso feels that much credit for the expansion of the hospital in Vero Beach should go to Paul Goodrich who, with his wife, spent much time and effort on civic obligations. In Tampa, he had heard of the ocean floor in the Cayman Islands being covered with gold. Kelso was tempted but decided to finish his internship. "I was interested in the history of this area. I met Kip Wagner, also a history buff, at a Boy Scout meeting in Wabasso and ultimately the talk turned to treasure." Wagner took him to Wabasso Beach where coins had been found. "He brought out these funny looking pieces of silver. Each had a Jerusalem cross on one side and an obscure date and a coat of arms on the other. I vowed to spend what spare time I had going to libraries. Finally in l957, after a medical convention, I went to the Library of Congress." Kelso translated many documents from Spanish to English. At the American Numismatic Society, "They were cool until they saw the beautiful pictures of coins that had been taken by Jack Vickers. Later I became a member of the society." Wagner and Kelso knew that the l7l5 Plate Fleet had foundered off the coast. Before any digging, a lease from the state was required. When a wreck was found, it had to be pinpointed and another lease obtained. They applied for the area from Sebastian Inlet to Stuart, a distance of 50 miles, one mile wide, where the treasure was ultimately found. The Real Eight company was formed by Kelso, Wagner and six others. A cabin about five miles north of Wabasso Beach was used for headquarters. There was no Sebastian Inlet bridge. The road was sandy and nearly impassble unless you knew the secrets of letting most of the air out of your tires and using palm fronds if you did get stuck. Several amateur divers worked on the find, and later Mel Fisher's group was hired to do the diving. Much treasure has been recovered. "I loved to hear Edgerton Carter and his father talk about how they built the dike west of Vero and how they had to deal with sawgrass, snakes and alligators. Edge took me out on the beach where he had picked up a skull after a northeast storm. He also found potshards, Indian artifacts and arrows made of shark teeth. Here Capt. Henry, a pirate, had pelted the shore with grapeshot. Kip Wagner and a mine detector proved the shot was still in those 200-, 300- year-old trees." Ultimately Kelso thought a hospital was needed in the north county. State permission was obtained after a long fight. At the World's Fair in New York he saw the hospital that had been installed to take care of illness or injuries at the fair. "It was a circular building with rooms around the outside. Inside was space for computerized viewing of patients and surgery. We got the building and state permit, but couldn't afford to get going, which caused us great distress. The bond issue of $825,000 was not enough. "As a prideful Scot, I would not declare bankruptcy so I sold my Real Eight stock at a discount and paid off the bondholders. Once again I was broke." A new hospital was eventually built, opening in February of l974, called the Sebastian River Medical Center, as the area is called. Fifty Philippino nurses were brought over; the hospital was completely staffed and equipped on opening day, with televisions in every room and one patient. Though it has had times with few patients, it is now owned and successfully operated by Humana Hospital Sebastian. Last summer Kelso was invited to China to lecture on "The Management of Adult Respiratory Syndrome." "The ugliness as well as the beauty of this revived, late-blooming giant were freely and happily displayed - we could go anywhere we wished: exposed leaking pipes, poorly insulatd wiring, wards with cracked walls and ceiling, peeling paint and really horrible sanitation. Only rarely did we see current equipment, displayed with great pride. "In the 76 hospitals represented, a good many doctors not only understood but also spoke some English. They felt that they would lose face if they did not speak correctly." His association with Wagner and Real Eight has been discussd in the National Geographic, Saturday Evening Post, The New York Times, Argosy and a book by Wagner. He is a member of numerous medical societies and has received honors for his work. Wagner, in "Pieces of Eight," says of Kelso, "Just why so talented a man - he's a specialist in internal medicine - chose to settle in our little community, I don't know to this day. But I'm sure glad he did. Without the invaluable help... I don't think I ever would have found treasure. (He is) a man of boundless knowledge and inexhaustible energy. He is, or has been, president of half a dozen organizations... I think this refreshing enthusiasm acted as a catalytic agent upon me, renewing my spirits."
The Lure of Pelican Island
The boat sped past Preacher's Island, Nelson's Island and Paul's Island. Nesting ospreys in a tree along the shore watched the boat's progress. Did they resent these human intruders? They sat stoically on their perches, giving no clues. The water of the Indian River was a little choppy for the National Wildlife Refuge boat, but the threatening rain clouds of the morning had vanished. A wildlife assistant manager, a biologist, photographer and reporter were on their way to the first federal wildlife refuge in the world, created in l903 by President Theodore Roosevelt. Along the shore, small signs were posted on stakes. The legends on the signs faced toward the land, not the river. The signs designate the boundaries of the Pelican Island Wildlife Refuge - a refuge that encompasses approximately six miles of water in the Indian River, just east of the town of Sebastian. The islands within this water mass are also part of the refuge. As the boat's engine propelled us northward from the Wabasso boat ramp, it was easy to think of the big sign on highway U.S. l at the Sebastian city limits. It proclaims: "Sebastian - the home of Pelican Island." How many people, driving on the highway, see the sign and wonder about the island? Do they think about the birds? Are they curious about the history of this bit of land and water? Do they ever wonder if they might go there? Or do they dismiss the sign's legend from their minds because the island seems an ephemeral bit of sand somewhere "out there?" We suddenly slowed. Ahead, a spit of land crowned with low, white mangroves emerged mysteriously from the water. It is so small, so undistinguished at first glance, that one wonders how the pelicans ever found it. But you know the pelicans, and many other birds, are there. The odor of their guano (droppings), drifting across the waves, is overwhelming. We pulled a little closer to shore, then began to circle the island. Perched in the mangroves, just beyond the spartana grass, were hundreds of wood storks. Some were mature, their beaks dark. The immature birds were the ones with fleshy-looking beaks. Overhead, man-o'-war birds circled, their 8-foot wingspans impressive, but not nearly as impressive as the sight of their bright-orange gular sac when it is extended during mating rituals. The man-o'-war is commonly called the frigate bird. None on this day displayed the orange sac, blown up like a balloon. "The frigates are just hanging around" said Mendel Steward, our U.S. Fish and Wildlife guide. "They feed on young birds, as well as on fish." Stewart and biologist Bill Lennhouts identified for us the black-crowned night herons, snowy egrets, cormorants and great blue herons. But where were the brown pelicans? Stewart said they were on the interior of the 3-acre island, beond our sight. As he spoke, a black bird flew into the midst of the wood storks. "He's probably going in to rob a nest," said Stewart. Leenhouts was taking a census of the wood storks on this trip to the island. He counted silently as the boat bobbed in the water. We watched as more wood storks came in, lowering their long legs in a graceful, sweeping motion just before alighting on a mangrove limb. Pat Blumer, who had joined us on this trip, commented, "Looks just like a big jet touching down." Stewart pointed out several greenback herons and tri-color herons. The latter used to be called Louisiana herons. We circled the island, again, slowly. Stewart took the boat in closer, but would not permit us to go on the island. It is a refuge, an area protected by federal law, Pelican Island is for the birds. "Last year, we lost 30 percent of the nests because someone picnicked or camped on the island," explained Stewart. "The nests were abandoned." Leenhouts completed his wood stork census. He reported approximately 350, mostly groups of three immature birds, parked like animated statues in bulky nests among the prickly pear cactus and the mangroves. "The mature birds are out at the St. Johns marshes, getting food," he said. In l954, Florida Bird Life,published with the cooperation of the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, stated that the wood stork "enjoys a rather static condition of well-being in Florida." Thirty years later, that statement is no longer true. The bird is on the endangered species list. Stewart started the engine. We headed south. After a mile or two we circled another island within the refuge boundaries. Lennhout was still counting wood storks. But another bird caught our attention on the shell-strewn shore. Stewart identified it as an American oyster catcher. Just then, an osprey flew overhead, a snake clasped within its claws. Could he be heading back to the nest we saw earlier? Pelicans are known to have nested at Pelican Island since l858. But it took writer and ornithologist Frank Chapman, in the latter part of the l9th century, to make Pelican Island known to the rest of the world. A frequent visitor to the Florida East Coast in the l880s and l890s as an associate curator at the American Museum of Natural History, Chapman stayed at Oak Lodge on the eastern shore of the Indian River, opposite Micco. He made frequent trips to Pelican Island for observation of the birds, and sometimes to obtain specimens of birds for the museum. But it was when he brought his bride to Oak Lodge in l898, on their honeymoon, that he began the most thorough study of the brown pelican ever made. His approach to the study, in the beginning, was with gun in one hand and a camera in the other. With the gun, he collected the series needed by the museum for habitat display. But in l900, Chapman returned to Pelican Island with a battery of cameras and no gun. He wrote of this experience: "Pelican Island during nesting time is by far the most fascinating place it has ever been my fortune to see in the world of birds." Chapman was not the only person on the East Coast to visit Pelican Island, however. Paul Kroegel, an immigrant from Germany, came to the little settlement of Sebastian in l88l. He was only l7 years old. But because the ungainly looking pelicans reminded him of the storks in his native Germany, Kroegel became their champion and their protector. Kroegel's daughter, Frieda, remembered her father telling about those early years. "The boat channel (in the Indian River) was less then 200 feet from the island and sportsmen from the north used to come to fish and hunt. They would sometimes shoot hundreds of pelicans in one day, just for the sport of it. "If my father heard their shots he would drop whatever he was doing and investigate. Sometimes the hunters would defy him, but he would get between them and the island with his l0-gauge shotgun and that usually put a stop to any killing for that day." Kroegel became acquainted with many of the naturalists, ornithologists and writers who came to Oak Lodge. Chapman spent much time at the Kroegel homestead in Sebastian. The two men became good friends. Frieda Kroegel Thompson credits Chapman as largely responsible in getting Pelican Island designated as the first federal wildlife refuge in the world. As a result of his books and his published accounts concerning the distress of the pelican in the Indian River, Chapman was able to lure others into a concern about their welfare. Through Chapman's own friendship with President Theodore Roosevelt, and through efforts of the Florida Audubon Society and the American Ornithologists' Union, Pelican island was designated a wildlife refuge in l903. Kroegel became the first warden of the refuge at a salary of $l per month. His salary had increased to $l5 per month by the l920s, when he gave up the job because of his age infirmities. One humorous coincidence happened soon after the island was designated a wildlife refuge. Naturalists lost no time in erecting a "No Trespsssing" sign on the island. Accrding to Chapman's account,the birds were scared away completely and the island was bare for the next year. Someone finally decided the birds had taken the sign too literally, so it was removed. The birds returned to the island by the tens of thousands. In l905, Chapman returned to Pelican Island, apparently with the blessing of the federal government. He moved in with the birds, observing and photographing them from behind a blind he devised with a large umbrella and a slit denim bag draped over the umbrella. In l908 he came back to continue his study this time taking the first motion pictures of the pelicans. In l9l4 Chapman made another visit to Pelican Island. It was the saddest experience of his life. He and Kroegel counted l,600 dead and dying young pelicans on the island. They watched at least l,000 healthy adult birds resting and bathing on the other end of the island. Chapman spent considerable time examining the dead birds and found they had died of staration. Why they starved is still an ornithological mystery. The year is l973. It is nesting season on Pelican Island. The screaming, cawing, flapping of the mass of birds on the three-acres island is overwhelming. The wood storks, cormorants, great blue herons and the baby pelicans create a noise level that would put a rock festival in the shade. The mature pelicans don't utter a sound. Lawrence Wineland was refuge manager that year. His explanation for the lack of voice in the older pelicans was that "by the time they have dived in the sea a few times, they lose their voice." He was also fond of telling the men, with tongue in cheek, that "it is too bad wives can't dive in the sea for fish so they can lose their voices." The island was covered with nests that year: in mangroves, on the ground and even close to the shoreline. Roseate spoonills flew overhead. Wineland estimated that at sundown, l0,000 birds would be back on their roosts. At times, he said, there were up to 25,000 birds on the island. Despite all the activity, the brown pelican was on the endangered species list in this country. Mysterious maladies, deadly organisms in the bloodstream, DDT, the red tide, sewage bacteria, loss of suitable habitat and disturbance by man, all had been blamed. Pelican Island was completing a 75-year-cycle in l973. Around the turn of the century, the island was almost devoid of vegetation. Then the mangroves became re-established for a period of years. In l973 the island was once again almost a barren wasteland. The foliage was sparse, the mangrove trees eaten to mere bushes. When heavy nesting activity breaks down the foliage, explained Wineland, the pelicans and other birds woud go elswhere for a while - perhaps up the coast to the Merritt Island Wildlife Refuge, or to Mosquito Lagoon. "But there is something in nature that always pulls them back here." he said. Pelican Island in l986 presents an enigma. In this one microscopic pelican habitat, there appear to be few pelicans. Although wildlife offiers said pelicans nest on the interior of the island, there did not appear to be many of them. Only two were seen resting on the waters of of the Indian River near the island. Yet the pelican poulation throughout the state has now been stalized. The Ocala office of the Florida Freshwater Fish and Game Commission reports that the state has now reclassified the Pelican to "a species of special concern." But the wood stork, nesting by the hundreds on Pelican Island, and seen flying in large numbers in the skies above the Indian River, is now on the endangered species list.
Fellsmere Cemetery Gets Attention
Fellsmere tradition goes back long before much of Indian River County, so far that much of it is now lost beneath a hot, steamy tropical Florida jungle. Henry Clayton knows about that tradition. His mother told him. Others told him. And they heard it from others before them. Much of that history is buried in Fellsmere's Brookside Cemetery just north of County road 5l2 at the County Road 5l0 intersection. There's a convenience store there now. A developer is putting through a road that will reach to part of Sebastian. All these things around the cemetery are going on now, Clayton explained. Even two sections of the cemetery see use these days. But for Clayton and the nearly 300 other blacks living in Fellsmere, the back section of the cemetery is the important one. "It's a place that people have forgotten about," he explained of the back five-or-so acres to the l5-acre burial ground. The area used to be called Kitchen Switch. A county road runs through the cemetery and stretches off for some 20 miles. A creek runs east and west through the middle, separating the old graves from the new. On the north side of the creek, Florida vegetation grows with wild abandon. On the east side, gravestones surrounded by flowers are visible above freshly cut grass. Kitchen Switch road that runs through the cemetery is owned by the county, while the cemetery is owned by Fellsmere. Land around the area is privately owned with easements running up to the cemetery and the road. In the early l900s, the creek represented segregation that lasted past death. "We were just across the ditch," explained Clayton, "and they (the whites) were over there." The cemetery used to be cleaned and cleared and taken care of, according to Isola Clayton. She lives in Fellsmere and remembers the days when relatives came to the cemetery to take care of markers and stones. Memorial Day used to be the big celebration, according to the younger Clayton. He said families would gather at the creek and picnic, spending the day fixing up the cemetery. "The first thing you did that day was you found your family grave and the grave of somebody who didn't have a marker and you put flowers on them." he said. Togetherness, though, has passed away with time. Charles Latimer, an employee of the Indian river County Sheriff's Department, said he was last at the cemetery in l970 before coming back last month. "There was nothing like this," he said. In the early 60s, the last of the poor was buried in the cemetery. There was no more room, Latimer explained. With the onset of $50-a-site burial fees, the back part of the cemetery became the old part. Mrs. Clayton's son moved on to an education and to what he said was supposed to be a better life. Though he lives in Fort Pierce, he said he wants to return to his real heritage. He was a little shocked at what he found. Some of the gravesites aren't marked by a stone or a marker but by memory. "A lot of them didn't have markers so they would put dishes or other things the funeral home gave them on the grave." Clayton said. People buried on this side of the creek could not afford regular stone-carved markers, he explained. A few concrete graves and stone markers are visible through the undergrowth. An adventurous type or sentimental relative might be able to search out their descendent. "That's how people used to mark their graves." Mrs. Clayton said. "They put their stone (just a regular rock or marker) there and they knew their stone. Councilman Joe Washington's mother is one of those buried back in the woods. A carved stone marks her burial site. He said the developments going up around the cemetery aren't threatening the graves because the property still belongs to Fellsmere. "We're not going to sell it," Washington said of the cemetery. "It's not abandoned." But Clayton, Washington and others admit they are confused as to mysterious bulldozer tracks into the site. Those tracks stop at two concrete graves. Clayton doesn't blame anyone for running over some of the graves, though he said his blood boiled when he first saw the torn up ground. He figured somebody came through and didn't know the grave yard was there. "I can understand that," he noted. He said the old part of the cemetery is just a growth of jungle to someone who doesn't know it's there. "Most of the young people don't even know where this place is," he explained. "The (buried peoples') families are gone, and there's nobody left to take care of them." He noted, though, that when the bulldozer hit one of the concrete graves and someone realized their mistake, they should have come forward. "They should have told someone," he said, "Hey, this was an accident. We didn't mean to do it." Fellsmere Police Chief Bob Onorato said he'd also like to find out if someone got into the cemetery by accident. "If they disturbed the grave," he added, "then they would be liable." Onorato said he and Mayor Marion Turner would take a look at the old part of the cemetery. Washngton said the overgrowth is just something that got out of control, and he noted the city is hoping to fix it up a little. There's a lot to do, though, he added. According to Fellsmere Street Department Supervisor Randy Cosner, the old cemetery is not a priority when it comes to cleaning up at Brookside. "We've been going to get at it this summer," he added, however, "We haven't got it, yet. It was kind of abandoned. The people who own the graves are suposed to maintain the sites. We go out there and mow." Mowing cannot begin until trees and bushes are chopped out, though, Clayton said. Sunday, he took a group of young Fellsmere blacks from the city's Young Blacks in Action club out to see what had become of the cemetery. Through the hot and muggy morning air, many of the youngsters were thinking of better places to be. Clayton, though, stressed that this was something they needed to see, to get involved with and to help fix. "It's our fault," he said. "Our dream was to finish school and get out of Fellsmere. Nobody else knew this was back here and it started to grow." Clayton said all he is asking is a little help from Fellsmere in cleaning up the cemetery and making sure no developments come in by accident and desecrate the area. City officials have said they are willing to give the cleanup a go, but it will not be easy. "The city is supposed to do the cleanup," Washngton explained. "It has just been neglected. Just like the cleanup we're doing right now, if somebody doesn't keep on it, it's going to grow back."
Fellsmere teens clean up forgotten Black cemetery
Longtime Fellsmere resident Eddie Williams surveyed the thick palmetto scrub and tangled roots at his feet. "We used to come out here every Memorial Day and stay out here all day long. I've got some brothers here, but I don't know where they are. They were buried back in the '20s," he said. As he spoke, a band of young teen-agers armed with machetes cut away at shrubs covering weathered, blackened headstones. Members of the Young Blacks In Action, saddened by the neglect, are cleaning up abandoned Brookside Cemetery off CR 5l2 so Williams and other Fellsmere residents can once again visit the graves of relatives. Saturday was their second cleanup trip. Several hundred Black residents are buried in the overgrown cemetery, according to Henry Clayton, a Piper Aircraft worker and head of the teen group. Some graves date back to the turn of the century, before Fellsmere was founded. When a new cemetery was built nearby in the early l960s, the old one grdually fell into disuse and decay. The ground over some graves has caved in over the years, leaving only a thin layer of pine needles and dirt atop the coffins. Some have been vandalized, and most are covered by thick palmetto scrub. Clayton said he organized the cleanup effort after a north county developer startd to bulldoze the area. The city of Fellsmere, which owns the land, will survey the cemetery, and has promised a backhoe to help clean it up, Clayton said. Many of the graves are marked only by a tree, a rude stone or a mason jar because, Clayton said, families were to poor to afford fancy headstones. His grandparents are buried somewhere in the cemetery. So are the mother and grandmother of Fellsmere City Councilman Joe Washington, who joined the cleanup effort. An old oak tree split by lightning marks the Washington graves. "Having finished life's duty, She now sweetly rests," reads the headstone of Alice Wilson, who died in l927. Nearby is a stone marking the grave of the Rev. H.B. Oliver, who died in l9ll. "This is my grandmother's grave, and this is my granddaddy's," said l6-year-old Keisha Ross, one of the Young Blacks In Action. Both graves are well kept, thanks to the efforts of Ross's family. "It's pitiful. I feel sad. People felt like they didn't care about these graves," Ross said as she glanced at weed-choked plots. She spent several hours cutting underbrush in the stifling humidity Saturday before going to her cook's job at an Interstate 95 rest stop. "I figured they were here - why not help them out. I figured they'd appreciate what I'm doing." said a sweating Andre Pee, l6, motioning to the surrounding graves with a smile. Washington and Clayton want to see the cemetery fenced off and a plaque erected listing the names of the residents buried there. Members of the Young Blacks In Action say they are committed to maintaining the cemetery after it is restored. "I have to give them credit. They did this all by themselves," Clayton said proudly of his group.
The Sebastian River Historical Society
By Jana Brittain They plotted, planned, researched, brainstormed and had trial run-throughs before the state burear representative visited last week. The work payed off. The Sebastian River Area Historical Society had secured a visit - just a little past its first birthday - from an historic sites specialist out of Tallhassee. And they wanted to make sure they could show him every historical speck of Sebastian. "That was the most extensive and exhaustive, the most organixed tour I think I have ever been on," said a smiling Michael F. Zimny, historic sites secialist for the bureau of historic preservation in Tallahassee, after the tour. A chuckle circulated the Sebastian Chamber of Commerce meeting room where Zimny was briefing society members after the tour. Many had helped plan the expedition and knew that it was exhaustive. They also knew it was thorough. The upshot of the two-hour, 26-mile tour? Zimny said he was confident that about a dozen of the Sebastian area stuctures would qualify for the prestigious National Register of Historic Places. The journey, typed up in a four-page schedule, began at the corner of Main Street and Indian River Drive. The car, which included Zimny, Society President Jean Bertram, Vice President Ramona Vicker and George Keyes, a society director, started South on Indian River Drive to U.S. l. From there the group visited sites and structures on several Sebastian area roads, including Old Dixie, Foster Lane, Main Street and Louisiana Avenue. "I'd have to say he was impressed with everything he saw," Mrs. Vickers said. "He gave us a great deal of encouragement." Zimny couldn't remember the names of specific sites that he felt could be named to the National Register but he said he was impressed by the "Pristine" quality of the homes, meaning they haven't been significantly altered from their original design. "The thing that surprised me was the state of the residences that were here," he said. "It's nice to see buildings out there left alone." Applying new siding to a home, for example, severly deteriorates, to the state, the historic value of the structure. Zimny saw more than l00 historical sites and buildings on the tour, and encouraged the group to pursue city and state funding for a survey of the community. The survey would supply a sort-of inventory of the area, with a description of the historic buildings to be kept as a permanent record in Tallahassee. Structures of particular historic note could be recommended to a state review board for nomination to the National Register. Clearing the state review board is the biggest hurdle, Zimny said. Once a property is nominated, the structure or site is usually added to the National Register. Some of the structures on the tour included the John Beugnot home, the Sembler house and fish dock, the Bob McCain home, and the Ruth Miller home. Some of the buildings on the tour were one-time residences turned into businesses. Mrs. Vickers said that despite the importance of Zimny's visit, she wasn't nervous about the tour. "I knew what we had to offer," she said. "I was sure he would be intrigued by it. We are pleased that the state sent someone down to see the area and are doubly pleased that he was so satisfied with the tour." The society is dedicated to preserving and protecting Sebastian history, but the recommended surveying and paperwork is new to them too. "We're learning right along with everyone else," Mrs. Bertram said. With that learning will come more public recogniton and community involvement. For now, the group hasn't approached many historic home owners for permission to examine their homes. Mrs. Vickers said one society member has begun to take pictures to document the existence of buildings, and has run into a few concerned homeowners. "But by the time we're ready to knock on peoples' doors and say "We're from the Sebastian River Area Historical Society and we'd like to help get your home on the National Register,' I hope we'll be greeted with no problem," Mrs. Vicker said. She said many of the early structures in the Sebastian area fall into two rather distinct categories - the small home of the working family and the more luxurious homes of those who came to the area with money. It's the history of the homes - the pioneer spirit that brought their builders here - that help makes the homes important. "I'm interested in the families," Mrs. Vickers said. "And through them, the structures."
Sebastian's Where It's At If you were to poll the more than one million people who visit Sebastian Inlet each year, there would be a dominant reason for their coming. Fishing. More state residents and tourists make the trek on Highway AlA to Sebastian between Melbourne and Vero Beach to fish than any single spot in Florida. It's not surprising it's the state's No. l recreation area in visitation, surpassing all the other state parks. This outlet to the sea qualifies as one of the country's most prolific fishing centers for the land-based angler. It's one of the few spots where a jetty fisherman can catch "smoker" size kingfish, giant amberjack, jack crevalle, even ocean-going permit, not to mention channel bass, snook, drum, all the bluefish you want, and no telling what else. It's one of the few inlets on the Eastern Seaboard with a capped rock jetty extending like a long finger into the sea. The 700-foot north jetty, which was completed l0 years ago this month, enables Sebastian fishermen to cast into 25 and 30 feet of water, depths normally attainable only to inshore boaters. It is along the rail of this pier-like walkway that hundreds gather almost daily, sometimes shoulder-to-shoulder. The bluefish is recognized as Sebastians's mainstay. The two are synonymous. Between late fall and early spring, acres of these small scrappy gamesters move inside the mouth of the inlet to feed on schools of baitfish. Word spreads quickly when the blues are in, and the result will be throngs of casters on the north jetty, the smaller south jetty and the rocks along the inlet walls. They'll be casting heavy spoons, plugs, bucktails, anything in their tackle boxes. This winter's bluefish run was one of the most consistent in years. Hardly a day or night went by that schools of the so-called "snappers" didn't put in an appearance. Few will argue the point that Sebastian's most challenging species is the snook, the solid, silvery, protruding-jawed gamester with the distinct lateral line. It's a moody, wary fish, that because of its tropical requirements, first appears in the spring and continues to run through the summer and into the fall. Rarely will Sebastian's snook feed during daylight periods, so, it is a fish left for the nocturnal angler, the guy willing to spend long hours of casting and waiting. Sebastian is a narrow and relatively shallow inlet with four strong tidal flows daily between the ocean and the Indian Rivr, and it's around the shoreline eddies created by the water flow, and along the rocky bottoms that snook gather to pick off passing bait. Because of its shallow characteristics it doesn't produce large snook like the occasional 35-and 40-ponders from Fort Pierce and Jupiter Inlets. A 25-pounder is a trophy and anything bigger is close to a Sebastian record. Official catch records are not maintained but one of the largest ever taken ws a 3l-pounder in June 1977. It was landed by Melbourne angler Dick Derrough. He was using a large floating-diving Rebel lure just before a slack tide at 1:30 in the morning. In May 1974, another 31-pounder was caught by Tom Herzel of Satellite Beach. For years identical catches of 24 3/4 pounds stood as unofficial inlet records by anglers John Cassady and John Serna. The first consistent run of snook usually accompanies the warmth of spring, in April and May, with catches continuing through June before slacking through the hot summer months and picking up again in September and October, ahead of the effects of winter. You can always count on snook being caught in Octobr when Sebastian's campground guests include Florida's most famous snook fishing team, Carl and Millie Garrettson of Marathon. They've been coming to Sebastian every October for 20 years, for one reason - the fall snook run. The Garrettsons make the well-known Millie's Bucktail and they have their bucktail fishing refined to a science. Using a lantern or other artificial light, and a bucktail dubbed the "silver bullet" because of specks of glitter on the white bullet-shapped head, they retrieve the jigs along the bottom under the lighted area, theorizing that the snook lay in the rocks on the inlet bottom, waiting to ambush bait that happens past. Seldom do Carl and Millie fail to live up to their snook-catching reputations, and the interest they generate among other fishermen is one of the highlights of Sebastian's snook season. Almost every December, when the first cold front creates the initial drop in water temperatures on the Central East Coast, there's a sudden movement of flounder to the rocky inlet shorelines. It happens almost overnight and great numbers of the flatfish are caught with live finger mullet fished on the bottom with sliding-sinker rigs. Some of the flounder are giants, qualifying as "door mats" and ranging to weghts of l2 and l4 pounds. One of the largest ever caught was l6-pounds, 2-ounces by Orlando angler Bud Day in l970. The monster was 33 l/2 inches long and 29 l/2 inches in girth. The heaviest fish taken at Sebastian are amberjack, which during the winter months move inside to feed on large roe mullet. While bigger ones have been hooked, 80-and 90-pounders have been caught. Needless to say, big-game tackle is necessary to hold something that large. Mullet is used for bait and most of the heavy weights are taken from the catwalk under the AlA bridge. The "smoker" kingfish usually make a stop during their fall and spring migrations. Unlike the amberjack they seldom venture inside the inlet, roaming instead around the mouth and sometimes close to the north jetty. The prime fishing spot is from the tip of the north jetty, on the so-called "bullnose" of large granite rocks. Live mullet is the preferred bait and one method of floating the bait outside the inlet is attaching a balloon to the line during an outgoing tide. One of the most unusual "runs" of ocean gamesters occured last August when great numbers of giant permit were caught by north jetty fishermen. Perhaps 50 were taken in a week, with a 42-pounder the largest reported. Most hit crabs being freelined arond the tip of the jetty. Large permit seldom range outside South Florida and it was the first time so many of the giants were caught at Sebastian. But that's par for Sebastian Inlet. It's filled with the unusual.
Inlet charter outdated, unfair An open letter to Congressman Bill Nelson: The Sebastian Inlet Tax District was created by special laws of Florida on May 23, 1919, and in 1927 the Legislature rewrote the charter as approved Chapter 12259, and since then it has been amended many times. It provided that the three elected commissioners of Sebastian Inlet District construct, improve, widen or deepen, and maintain the inlet between the Indian River and the Atlantic Ocean within the boundaries of said inlet district. The present charter is archaic and discriminatory. Tax revenues maintain said inlet for boat traffic, but no money is expended for the inhabitants who do not have the privilege of owning a boat. Sebastian Inlet is a very valuable asset to this area for pleasure boats and especially commercial boats which annually bring in thousands upon thousands of pounds of fish to market. Times have changed, and changes are direly needed to alleviate the tax burden placed upon the property owners of that tax district. I urgently request you initiate proceedings immediately to have the Corps of Engineers take responsibility for maintaining this important waterway. Then the Coast Guard would be required to properly mark this waterway from the ocean to the Indian River channel.
Eroded Areas Surround Retaining Wall Sebastian Inlet - If something isn't done immediately, the retaining wall on the Brevard County side of the Sebastian Inlet "is in serious danger of being partially or completly washed away," according to an engineering report submitted Jan. 26 to the Sebastian Inlet Tax District Commission. A weakened retaining wall means the "structural integrity" of the two-laned SR A1A bridge could be in jeopardy Commissioner Michael Ballard, secretary-tresurer for the three-member panel, said Tuesday during an on-site inspection. Ballard, who is not an engineer, said he doesn't want to be an alarmist, but predicted if the wall isn't repaired, the high-rise span that connects beachside Indian River and Brevard counties won't be safe within two to five years. The extensive erosion resulted from November's devasting northeaster storm and from drainage problems between the sea wall and the paved parking area to the north of it, he said. The wall is "completely freestanding" in some areas, Ballard said, pointing to cavernous holes beside of and crevices atop the almost 20-year-old concrete cap. The undermining resulted from a combination of battering ram waves and eroding landside runoff. The report was submitted Jan. 26 by Roger Moore, an engineer with the Fort Lauderdale firm of Keith and Schnars. The company is a subcontractor for the commission's engineering firm, Imperial Engineering Services Inc. of Lakeland. Ballard said Moore also expressed concern that erosion is affecting the bridge piling nearest the steps on the north side - at the west end of the sea wall. "Of course the piling is in bedrock, but as you can see the support around it (at the surface) is eroding away," he said. Moore couldn't be reached Tuesday for comment. Because the bridge is the responsibility of the state Department of Transportation, the commission's enginers are trying to set up a meeting with D.O.T. representatives. "It will be a courtesy meeting to make them aware of the situation," he said. Ballard was adamant that the sea wall's erosion problems must be solved to save the bridge from damage. "I'm not saying the bridge is going to fall into the creek, but it's important to preclude any more erosion." Specifications are being drawn up and a bid format should be ready next week, Ballard said. Proposed repair would require excavating an area on the landside of the wall, inserting an impervious sand-filter membrane (possibly gunnite or sandbags), backfilling with sand and sloping huge boulders on both sides of the structure. And the boulders already on the inlet side of the wall that have been washed out - up to 40 feet - must be re-positioned to protect the wall and to eliminate potential boating hazards. Ballard said he didn't know how much the project would cost, but similar work done on the inlet's south side in August cost about $34,000. Ballard said he thinks the north wall's renovation will be about three times as extensive as that. The bidding process will be acceleratd, he said, a combination of emergency and normal procedures. That means companies probably will be contacted by phone for estimates.
Sebastian Inlet to be dredged The badly needed dredging of the Sebastian Inlet, which has had Sebastian Inlet Taxing District commissioners worried for over a year, is apparently going to be completed after all. At a meeting Wednesday night, Tim Smith, of Sebastian, chairman of the commission, said a compromise plan has been worked out with the Florida Department of Environmental Regulation, the organization which has been holding up the project. The DER has contended that the commission's original plan would have been injurious to the inlet's ecology. The new plan is apparently acceptable to the DER's expert on dredging, Beverly Birkitt, who met with officials of the Florida Institute of Technology's oceanographers, on Mar. 26. Miss Birkitt had previously said the permit to dredge would be denied because the sand pumped during the dredging operation might endanger colonies of reef-building worms. Under the alternate plan, sand would be pumped into holding basis on the barrier island. It would then be trucked to the beach after the sand particles would have had a chance to go through a settling out process. The reef worms involved build reefs by bonding together sand and shell that gradually forms a honeycomb-like structure. As a result of the structures being formed, they act as filter feeders, that strain small organisms from the sea water. FIT officials' had expressed fear that the animals could be suffocated during the prodess.
Inlet Commission overrides low bid The Sebastian Inlet Taxing District Commission has awarded a five-part contract for the shoring up and repair of both the north and south jetties to C.A. Paving Co., of Ft.Pierce, even though the firm was not the low bidder. The total cost of the contract will be $103,900 instead of the $96,100 bid by the Prosperity Drding Co. The bid by C.A. Paving was accepted when Chairman Tim Smith of Sebastian doubted that Prosperity could move and place 1,200 tons of rock for a price of $2.50 a ton. That was the price for rock that is already there. Another 3,000 tons of rock will be hauled in and added to the jetty. The contract also covers the painting of the north jetty beacon, repair to the walkway gratings and an extension of the north jetty handrail. Michael Ballard said the work in no way will cause an increase in taxation for Brevard or Indian River County taxpayers. The work will be financed by adjustments in the current fiscal year's budget and by diping into a state account that can be used for such purposes. Ballard said his concern was that the work be completed before another hurricane, or northeaster hits the area. It was last Nov. l3, when a northeaster hit this area that the damage now to be repaired actually took place. Both jetties were undermined by the storm and the north jetty had a tunnel created beneath it. The vote to give the repair contrct to a firm that was not the low bidder drew some questions as to whether it was proper. The board's attorney, Rene VanDerVoorde, of Sebastian, said Brevard County's bidding manual states that if the lowest bidder dos not receive the contract, a specific and valid reason should be given. The vote passed 3-1 with Commissioner Woodrow Story voting aginst awarding the contract to C.A. Paving. Story said the required performance bond would guarantee that the work was completed in an adequate manner.
Manatee versus Forte The Save the Manatee Club, with headquarters in Maitland, Fla, will hold a fundraising event Labor Day weekend at the Sebastian Inlet. Proceeds from the small entry fee of $1.50 will be divided between the club and the Sebastian Inlet State Park. Club members say 50 cents of the $1.50 will go to the state, but alredy the fee is causing controversy. Jack Forte, who describes himself as a concerned citizen, and who lists his residence as Melbourne Beach, has written a letter saying that the entry fee is in violation of Florida law. "We have absolutely no protest of any surfing contest. We are only interested and will take proper action to see that no entrance fees are imposed at this park," Forte said in the letter. Forte sent copies to the Brevard County Legislative Delegation, State Attorney Douglas Cheshire, State Attorney Bob Stone, members of the Sebastian Inlet Tax District Commission, Dr. Elton J. Gissendanner, executive director of the Florida Department of Natural Resources and members of the news media. Renee M. Priest, administrator of the Save The Manatee Clubs, throughout the state, said, "This is the first time anyone has tried to help the state in this manner and we are very excited about it." There will be a musical concert as a part of the weekend and at least two television stations are planing coverage of the event. An announcement on what musical groups will be selected should be forthcoming soon. The concert will climax a weekend program that involves a surfing contest for which the winner and the runner-up will receive round-trip fares to Hawaii, plus an invitation to participate in at least two world surfing events. The winner will also receive a cash prize of $2,000 and the runner up will receive $1,000.
Inlet Commission wants project expanded The need for dredging the Sebastian Inlet is crucial and it can't start too soon for the Sebastian Inlet Tax District Commission, area commercial fishermen, and local Sebastian fish houses. The situation is frustrating to local fishing interests. The lack of dredging, according to Commission Chairman Tim Smith, of Sebastian, is costing local fish houses considerable amounts of business and causing fishermen to take their catches to fish houses in Fort Pierce. There is a dredging project about to get under way in June, which will take about 90 days to complete, however this project concerns only the inlet's sand trap and not the navigational channels between the Inlet and the Intra-coastal Waterway. One commercial fisherman Gordon Hales, owner of the 50-foot trawler, Ellen Marie, recently tried to haul a considerable catch of fish through the Inlet to be delivered to Sembler and Sember, a Sebastian fish house. However, his boat ran aground in the north channel. He had to be pulled off by pasing boats, and was forced to take the fish to Fort Pierce, to preserve the freshness. Commission Chairman Tim Smith, of Sebastian said he hopes to get permission to expand the dredging project to an area west of the sand trap in the shallow area that separates the Intra-costal Waterway and the Inlet. Smith said he thinks he can get the expansion idea through the Army Corps of Engineers with little difficulty but that it will be more difficult to get it through the Department of Environmental Regulation. Time is running short if the expansion of the project is to get aproval, Smith said at a meeting of the inlet Commission recently. He said the cost of expanding would be borne from Inlet Taxing District Funds available in Tallahassee. He said it will be better to do the entire job while the equipment to dredge the sand trap is in place.
A short way to go...but a long time to get there "I caught one this big," says the man in the yellow slicker. He holds his hands about 15 inches apart. "Where is it?" the other man asks. "Back there," he answers, motioning down the jetty. A huge wave splashes over the rocks, sending cold salt water up through the grating of the walkway and washing over the rocks and walkway itself. No one ducks or steps aside. The water hits legs, trousers and shoes and their owners just stand there. Fishing. It's cold out on the jetty at Sebastian Inlet. The wind whips in from the Atlantic Ocean, unhindered. The serious fishermen are prepared for the weather. They've been here before. Many times. Some of the spectators are not so prepared. They stand and shiver. The roar of the ocean is deafening. And not too many fishermen (and women) try to talk above the sound. But occsionally they will shout to one another or compare notes about the "pompano and the reds I caught last summer, out on the rocks." They huddle together, over their bait buckets, to talk. Suddenly, one man says, "He's got one, there on the front!" The man fishing out on the tip of the jetty is reeling his line in. But he discovers he has lost the fish. Everyone goes back to his own line and his own occupied look toward the water below. These people get up at dawn (or before) in Winter Haven, Orlando, Kissimmee and Apopka just to come over to the east coast to fish at Sebastian Inlet. When you remark to one of the fishermen that there is no one from Melbourne here, he says, "They come down on weekends. They know when they're biting" In the still-under-construction parking lot near the jetty, the license plates are mostly from New York, Ohio, Michigan, Missouri and Illinois. Among the people strolling the jetty or the fishing bridge under the big span, cameras are almost as plentiful as fishing rods. The angry Atlantic Ocean, and the people who brave the waves and winds on the rocks, make exciting photographic subjects. And of course, the pelicans are the most photographed of all. In the tidal basin west of the jetty, an immature white ibis walks beside a young little blue heron. Sandpipers, terns and gulls of all varieties stand in the shallow water or on the rock-strewn sand. Photographers try to sneak up on them for just "a little bit closer shot," but about the time the shutter clicks, the birds fly. On the south side of the inlet over in Indian River County peole crowd onto the unguarded jetty to try their luck with rod and reel. There are no handrails or barriers. You brave the rocks and the ocean to get out there. And at the camping area on the south side, the sign says, "All camping spaces taken." There are more pelicans down here at the campgrounds than there are fleas on a dog's back. The birds come in close to shore for handouts from picnickers, and when they have eaten their fill (and had a few squabbles over the morsels tossed to them), they get in the outgoing tide and drift laziy toward the inlet and the ocean beyond. They look like so many wooden decoys, carried along by the swift current. And there are those in the campground who do not care to fish. They stand on the shore and just gaze at the drifting pelicans. Most of the folks who come to the inlet have little knowledge of the historical background of this monstrous cut that connects the Indian River with the Atlantic Ocean. The cut was not always there. In an old issue of The Melbourne Times, Don R. Beaujean, a member of a local pioneer family, told of his memories of the inlet and gave probably one of the most accurate accounts of the history of this often treacherous body of water. "My first recollection of Sebastian Inlet was in 1890 when I traveled with my father, mother and brother by sailboat from Melbourne down the Indian River to what was then called Gibson's Cut," recalled Beaujean. "My father had purchased l0 acres of land located approximately three quarters of a mile north of the present inlet, from Capt. David P. Gibson in 1888. "Capt. Gibson at that time owned a large tract of land on the east side of the Indian River which included the site of the present inlet. "The land at the spot was only a quarter of a mile wide and in 1886 Capt. Gibson had promoted a move to dig an inlet across the land from the river to the ocean. "His plan was put into operation and volunteers dug a ditch by hand. Eventually the ardous work became too much for the volunteers and their enthusiasm waned. This location on the east side of the Indian River has for years been known as Gibson's Cut. "Again in 1895, another group tackled the job of trying to open a canal through to the ocean. This time they were successful, but the very first northeaster of the season closed the canal. "Discouraged though they were, they kept trying to solve the difficult engineering problem. One of the guiding lights in the project was the late R.D. Couch of Melbourne, a civil and mechanical engineer who at that time owned and operated Couch Manufacturing Co. of Grant. "In 1916, Couch again pushed the opening of an inlet at Sebastian and with his own six inch dredge he cut out the sand banks preparatory to opening. "He also placed coquina rock in position to be used as jetties. When the high water came he had additional help and at last the inlet was open for navigation." But again a northeaster wrecked the project. During World War 1 Couch was instrumental in getting the Florida State Legislature to pass a bill creating the Sebastian Inlet District Commission. Its purpose was to build a permanent inlet which would stay open. Couch was elected the first chairman of the newly formed commission. He served in that position until his death in l952. Soon after the forming of the commission, a $l00,000 bond issue was voted and carried for the purpose of opening the inlet and construction of jetties. In 1923-24 the jetties were completed. But because of a heavy storm, the dredging was not completed. Much to everyone's surise, the storm, this time, opened the inlet without man-made asistance. According to Beaujean, the inlet held up well until 1941. That year, due to lack of proper maintenance, the inlet cosed again. A sand bar formed across the inlet and remained there until l945 when someone thought of blasting the inlet to get rid of it. Couch contacted officers at the Banana River Naval Air Station (now Patrick AFB) and they were enthusiatic about letting their personnal use the sand bar as a training area. The U.S. Navy Demoliton squad received exellent training, but the only things they succeeded in blowing up were l2 cottages and a store building longing to Beaujean. Beaujean shrugged it of (after all he had signed a release) and made no claim for damages. After World War II, an organization was formed known as the Veterans Inlet Committee. Many of the volunteers contributed manual labor at the inlet. The group had earth moving equipment and a dredge and were making progress when the infamous l947 hurricane arrived and did more than $1,000 worth of damage to the equipment. Not long afterward, Couch consulted an engineer on the job, decided that the water level and conditions on shore were right, and a cut was made resulting in a successful opening to the sea. The inlet remained open for several months. The river was restocked with fish food and, according to Beaujean, "It also relieved the flooded conditions of lands in this area. This proved the value and need for the inlet." But the inlet closed again, due to severe storms and the defective condition of the jetty. But by October, 1949, Couch reported that the inlet was open and concrete caps were being placed on the jetties. In 1955, Powell Brothers, Inc. Of Fort Lauderdale, were the successful bidders on the Sebastian Inlet jetty rebuilding job. The Powell bid was for $l0.60 a ton for the rock placed on the jetties, or around $40,000 for the job. The bridge which now spans Sebastian Inlet was first disscussed and publicized in 1956. At that time it was proposed that the span be a toll bridge, But when the bridge actually became a reality close to the mid-1960s, no toll was charged. The inlet has made headlines many times for many reasons over the years since it was created. In October, l925 14 persons were drowned at the inlet when the motorboat Clara B capsized about l00 yards from the jetties. Many of those lost were prospective real estate purchasers from Kansas, but three local people were also drowned. When drowning disasters did not keep the inlet in the headlines, disputes between surfer and fishermen did, or the movements of bluefish in and near the channel kept the inlet active on the sport pages of newspapers around Florida. The Sebastian Inlet State Park was created in 1970 and, according to statistics, is the most popular state park in Florida. And that statistic is not difficult to believe. Just go down to the inlet and walk out on the jetties. Or stand on the shore of the tidal basin, or drive slowly through the campground. Or take a stroll on the wide beaches. People and pelicans, salt spray, fresh air, a stiff breeze and herons, ibis, gulls, terns and skimmers are everywhere. They know where the "in" place is. It's the inlet.
Sebastian Population 8,445, Study Reveals It is no secret Sebastian is growing. Monday, City Hall got an idea just how fast it is happening. Researchers at the University of Florida sent a letter estimating there were 8,445 permanent residents in the town as of April 1. It compared the figure to the population discovered in the 1980 census, then figured to be 2,831 residents. Officials pointed to in-migration rather than a baby boom. "I don't have the demographics," City Manager Robb McClary said. "But my speculation would be that it's newcomers." McClary said the city must decide whether to agree with the new figure, developed by UF's Bureau of Business Research, Population Program. The population estimate will be used to figure the amount of state revenue sharing money Sebastian will receive next year. This year, the city got $582,380 from Tallahassee, McClary said. Figuring the exact amount of 1990's revenue sharing based on Monday's figure is impossible. "It's going to depend on the population shifts all over the state," McClary said. The UF estimate is an annual event. Figures for 1988 were unavailable at City Hall. However, city Planning Director Peter Jones said UF's 1987 estimate placed Sebastian's resident population at 7,074. Like McClary, Jones believed most of the population growth is from people moving into the area. "It's coming from two areas," Jones said. "There's a continuation of people moving here from the north, retiring and wanting to live in the sunbelt. "We also are getting people from the south, from the Miami and Fort Lauderdale areas. These are people who want to move to a less-congested area, who want to come up to where they can take advantage of the water and other things without standing in line for them." Jones said the availability of platted residential lots is putting Sebastian and the surrounding area in the forefront of Indian River County's growth.
The 'Bamma Lawson' house eyed for National Register A house in Sebastian, built in the early 1900s has been nominated for inclusion in the National Register of Historic Places. One of four Florida properties considered for the honor, the "Bamma Lawson" house was selected for nomination by the Florida National Register Review Board on Aug. 4. The house is located at 1133 U.S. 1, just south of main street. It was constructed in 1910 by one of the families that pioneered the settlement of the Sebastian area. Recently sold to Dr. James Melrose, the house will soon be the site of a medical office staffed by Melrose and his wife, Denise. The Sebastian Planning and Zoning Commission approved the site plan for the medical office at its Aug. 17 meeting. According to a letter to Mayor Richard Votapka from George W. Percy, state historic preservation officer, the next step in the process is for the state to draft a formal letter of nomination to the keeper of the National Register. Once the nomination has been submitted, Percey's letter states, "...that office will have 45 days in which to approve or disapprove the nomination. If the nomination is approved, the property will be listed as of the date of approval." Percy's letter says the office of the Keeper of the National Register may extend the 45-day period if the staff finds technical deficiencies in the nomination. Any person or organization may petition for the acceptance or rejection of the nomination by writing to Keeper, National Register of Historic Places, National Park Service, U.S. Department of the Interior, Washington, D..C. 10204.
How Wabasso got its name On the map for decades, surely not a clever promoter's invention like "Parkridge" or "Sunnyvale," the word Wabasso adds a note of character to Indian River County's roster of place names. But where did it come from? From the way it looks and sounds, its origin seems obvious; it must be Native American. Well, it is - and it isn't. It is Native American, but it's also a clever invention. Several historians have traced the local word's usage back through time. But their journeys haven't all ended at the same beginning. In his book Florida's Hibiscus City: Vero Beach, J. Noble Richards presents his finding that "Wabasso received its name from J.R. Perrot of the Florida East Coast Railroad, in 1893." Unfortunately Richards says no more. We're left to wonder unassisted about Perrot's inspiration. Did it come to him in a dream? Was it the name of an Indian chief in a favorite boyhood story? Until someone comes across the railroad man's memoirs, it's best to set aside this line of thought. A more peculiar but in the long run more rewarding explanation can be found in Charlotte Lockwood's chronicle, Florida's Historic Indian River County. She reports that "The name Wabasso is said to have come from an Indian word spelled backwards." That seems strange, but perhaps just crazy enough to be true. At least it's easy to make the experiment. Spelled backwards, it's "Ossabaw." At first this combination of letters has a less authentic look than Wabasso - we're so accustomed to seeing it this way on the fishing tackle store, over the auto repair garage, and in the address on a bag of Hale's grapefruit. But wait. Ossabaw has a familiar look to it too. Isn't there a river...an island... "The Guale Indians migrated to this section from Ossabaw Island, Georgia, and the name of the town is Ossabaw spelled backwards." So proclaims Florida: A Guide to the Southernmost State, a Depression-era publiction of the Federal Writers' Project. These people had the time to do some serious research. Not only did they uncover the flip-flopped spelling, but they also found the home state, in that state the very island named Ossabaw, and yes, the Indians who came here from there. But again, even with these facts staring us in the face, a lot is missing. Why did the Guales leave, and why come here? When did it all happen? And most peculiar of all, how did they hit on this curious trick of inverting the order of the letters? Was that the sort of thing that Indians did? It seems a particularly European-American sort of literary conceit. Filling in some of the blanks, more detail comes from William Thompson, the area historian who wrote Press-Journal articles during the 1960's. "The early Indians were from Ossabaw Island, Georgia, and were of the Guale tribe. Wabasso was named for their homeland by spelling Ossabaw backwards. They had intermarried with runaway slaves and were not considered as purebred Indians by the tribes further south. At the time of the early settlers, they lived on Cow Creek. The tribe was called the 'Billy Smith Indians' from the name of their chief, but the boss was a squaw known as Aunt Polly." The mixed-breeds gave their destination a mixed-up name. After hearing the whites' word games that fashoned handles for them like Billy Smith and Aunt Polly, it's not too surprising that in their own whimsy they turned Ossabaw on its end to remind them of the old days. Exactly where is Ossabaw Island? One of the northernmost of the Georgia Sea Islands, a few miles off Savannah, Ossabaw is a barrier island recently ravaged by hurricane Hugo. No bridge has ever connected it to the mainland. The population is sparse, and likely to remain so as long as the Ossabaw Island Project, a Georgia state conservation group, owns the land. For the past several weeks no one has answered calls made to the island's single telephone, a mobile unit. Guale Indians, who once dominated southeast Georgia and northeast Florida, did indeed live on Ossabaw. From the Georgia Place Names listing in the Savannah Public Library comes the information that the island was called Ossabaw by the Indians for centuries before European settlement...and that the word is Guale for "holly," referring specifically to the Yaupon Holly (Ilex Vomitoria). Its berries will make you sick: thus the Latin term. The Yaupon is a shrub, not big enough to be considered a tree. It grows wild along the southern US Atlantic coastline, in the forests behind the dunes. Why did the Guales esteem it so highly that they gave its name to their island home? Local places and their names are much honored among such cultures. Interestingly enough, the answer may have been discovered in or near Wabasso, in 1696. At that time the British seafarer Jonathan Dickinson, having been shipwrecked off Jupiter Inlet, walked up the seacoast with his wife, infant child, and several sailors, all the while detailing the events in his journal. They eventually made their way (mostly by boat later on) to safety in Charleston. Along their route they made extensive contacts with the Jeaga and Ays peoples. The main village of the Ays hosted them for many days. It was located in what is now Indian River Conty...in a spot not far from today's Wabasso. There Dickinson witnessed the much-repeated religious rituals of the Ays, one of which involved the ceremonial imbibing of a "black drink" brewed from the leaves of the Yaupon. The following passage describes this practice among the Jeaga, but the Englishman reported the same thing happening among the Ays. "In one part of this house where the fire was kept, was an Indian man, having a pot on the fire wherein he was making a drink of the leaves of a shrub (which we understand afterwards...is called casseena), boiling the said leaves, after they had parched them in a pot; then with a gourd having a long neck and at the top of it a small hole which the top of one's finger could cover, and at the side of it a round hole of two inches diameter, they take the liquor out of the pot and put it in a deep round bowl, which being almost filled containeth nigh three gallons. "With this gourd they brew the liquor and make it froth very much. It looketh of a deep brown color. In the brewing of this liquor was this noise made which we thought strange; for the pressing of this gourd gently down into the liquor, and the air which it contained being forced out of the little hole at top occasioned a sound; and according to the time and motion given would be various. This drink was made, and cooled to sup, was in a conch-shell first carried to the Casseekey, who threw part of it on the ground, and the rest he drank up, and then would make a loud He-m; and afterwards the cup passed to the rest of the Casseekey's associates, as aforesaid, but no other man, woman, nor child must touch or taste of this sort of drink, of which they sat sipping, chatting and smoking tobacco or some other herb instead thereof, for the most part of the day." Elsewhere Dickinson reported that the "liquor" actd as a tonic and had no intoxicating effect. All around the Caribbean region the common word for chief is "Casseekey," as Dickinson spelled it..the Spanish "Cacique." Does its similarity to casseen, the black drink's name, point out that the chief was "the one who drinks the holly-leave brew?" Did the chief derive his authority at least partly from the already-respected qualities of the plant? Perhaps so. We've seen how, up north, the Indians bestowed the shrub's name on their hallowed isle. It was hallowed because the shrub grew here. So it's not hard to imagine that the Gaules also had ceremonies similar to the Jeaga and Ays practices, centered around the Yaupon. When those half-breeds came down here they must have been happy that Yaupon leaves grew wild out across the lagoon. It meant that they would be able to partake of the black drink. Thus, with a touch of humor, they designated their adopted locality Wabasso. Wabasso. It means "holly" backwards. If anybody asks, you might say it means "Ylloh." A clever invention.
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