When Ray left the Ohio state line, Kentucky revealed numerous
drying tobacco barns and tobacco stalks, and large numbers of stock farms with
miles and miles of stone fences. Farther into the state, homes were run down
and unpainted. He encountered saw mills from where cut timber was shipped on
carts pulled by mules. Ever curious, Ray came upon a large stock sale and
stopped to check it out.
The soil was red clay interspersed with pine trees. He
noticed that filling stations were very far apart. Homes were poorly
constructed and never painted. He was shocked to see toilets separate for “colored
people.” Going through Look Out Mountain and Rock City, he drove 7 miles to the
top on a slow and gradual incline. The shifting foundation had split the large
rocks and fashioned rock crevasses 100 ft. or more deep. Large herds of cattle
and hogs were wandering all over the highways, no fences anywhere in sight. Large
pine forests flanked the highways.
Crossing into Georgia, he noticed that the soil was hued
red, blue, and yellow. Miles and miles of peach trees filled the landscape. The
southern Georgia countryside was packed for miles and miles with pecan trees. Mules
seemed to be the beast of burden just like in Tennessee and Kentucky.
Georgia homes were built on rock piles or posts with no
basements. For the “poorer class,” houses had no windows, only “wooden door
flaps.” One dead cow had been hit by a car and the carcass was still in the
road.
Stopping in the Okefenokee Swamp, Ray walked out into the
swamp for about a mile through the quiet and wild surroundings; the silence was
only broken by the occasional hammering of a wood pecker and other bird calls.
Moss covered trees abundantly and water lilies bloomed gracefully from the
swamp; a large percentage of the tall pines were dead, jutting out of the murky
black water.
At the Florida line, the landscape changed to acres and
acres of slash pines on both sides of the road. Pines were slashed to gather
resin from which turpentine was made. The slashes were made by removing the
bark on an area of 12 by 36 inches through which a metal rod was driven at a 45
degree angle ending into a funnel shaped catch for the resin draining from the
tree.
Arriving in Jacksonville, Ray remarked that the population
was mostly “colored people.” The back of the trailer where they parked for the
night was a veritable jungle of palm trees and thick pines covered with Spanish
moss. Further down the road he encountered palms, citrus trees, flowers, and a
Chinese garden with waterfalls and bridges. On both sides of the highway there
were cacti growing everywhere.
In St. Augustine, Ray and his family had a drink from the
famous well attended by a man dressed in Spanish clothes. “The grave yard of a
vanished race of Indians had uncovered graves, showing the skeletons as these
burials were made on top of the ground. At one spot, by looking toward the
ocean, I could see through a row of palm trees a distance of 3 miles to the
open sea; this is believed to be the spot at which Juan Ponce de Leon had
landed in 1513 as it was the spot he first sighted upon sailing into the
harbor.” A stone monument in his honor is erected to commemorate the location.
Ray and his wife took a sight-seeing tour through St.
Augustine on a horse drawn “surrey” at a charge of $1.50 per hour. The drivers
were “colored men wearing a long tail coat and a large plug hat.”
The next stop was a fascinating fort with its heavy
ramparts. Ft. Marion, the Guardian of the Spanish City of St. Augustine, was built
from “coquina, shells taken from the beach on Anastasia Island and mixed with
lime,” cementing walls ten to twelve ft. thick. Ft. Marion was surrounded by a
moat of water 40 ft. wide.
The interior court, which crammed 2,500 people inside during
a 27-day siege, had a dungeon for prisoners, a Catholic church, and a powder
magazine. It was so damp that the powder magazine had a hard time keeping its powder
dry. The town was burned to the ground several times by the Spanish, the
English, and the French, but the fort never fell. The old wall that surrounded
the city is still partially standing. The oldest school and oldest house were
also located here. The oldest house had been owned and occupied at one time by
Napoleon’s nephew. The beautiful Spanish garden in the back had a wishing well.
The old school house boasted eight “pupils” and upstairs quarters
for the teacher. A small dungeon served as punishment for students who did not
behave properly. Tuition for this school was $12 per year.
After the alligator and ostrich farms, Ray visited
Marineland, with its fish, coral, other marine fauna and porpoises, and the
portholes through which the movie industry had shot most of their underwater films
of that time.
Across from Marineland was a burial mound for various Indian
tribes from counties across Florida. Buried in layers, the bottom uncovered
were remains of the “Timucua Indians, the forerunners by a good many years of
the Seminole. The skeletons were found in shell mounds, mainly oysters. Vines had
grown through all openings of the skulls. The people were buried in a hunched
or huddled position.”
Ray passed by the famous speedway in Daytona Beach, on his
way to comb the fine white sandy beaches for shells. Parking the trailer in
Port Orange for a week, three miles south of Daytona Beach on the Halifax River,
Ray, his wife, and three-year old blue-eyed Joan enjoyed the Florida sun and
the quartz-white beach.
Driving through West Palm Beach, Ft. Lauderdale, on to
Miami, Ray stopped in Jupiter at Shuey’s Trailer Camp for 75 cents per night,
parking about 100 ft. from the government lighthouse. They bought milk for 27
cents with a 5 cent deposit for the glass bottle.
“On the drive to Miami, we went along the ocean and saw the
fishing fleets out with their motors, sailing in circles; the waves were so
high that in between the crest of the waves, the large fishing boats would be
out of sight.”
Ray and his family spent three weeks in the Tall Pines
Trailer Camp. Three miles south of Miami was the Rare Bird Farm with coral
flamingos and other unusual birds. Of the 350 species, five species of blue,
green, and white peacocks were fascinating. Twenty-two miles south of Miami was
the Monkey Jungle, where “humans were caged in chicken wire walkways and the
monkeys ran wild into the tangle of jungle-like trees.” For 35 cents admission
price, they saw up close and personal chimpanzees, black spider monkeys, marmosets,
mangabeys, capuchin monkeys, and other primates.
Live sand dollars
Photo: Ileana Johnson
Next was window shopping in beautiful Coral Gables where
jewelry stores sold their wares for upwards of $3,800, a rich sum for those
times. Coral Gables was confusing to Ray as the streets were all names and no
numbers, especially when the names were all in Spanish.
For $25 a day and fishing gear provided, Ray broke down and
rented a boat to go deep sea fishing and caught his very first sail fish which
his wife cooked for supper.
Passing by a Seminole village, Ray marveled at the colored
patched clothes. An Indian dressed in full Chieftain’s regalia, posed for
pictures with visitors for 15 cents each. Parking in the trailer camps in the
area was more expensive, $3.25 per week.
Ray crossed the Everglades, driving on Tamiami Trail, the
southernmost 275 miles of U.S. Hwy. 41. The Everglades, thousands of square
miles, was a vast tract-less wilderness which could only be negotiated by
waterways and the Seminoles were the only persons who could do that at the time.
The vast tangle of saw grass was sometimes ten ft. high. One could drive for
miles through the big cypress swampland.
“Occasionally through the Everglades, there are small
villages of Seminoles. They hunt, fish, and only kill what they need for
clothes and food. The main Seminole reservation was deep in the Everglades and
could only be reached by their waterway canals. Using large and small boats
hewn out of large trees, Seminoles numbered 3,000 at one time, dwindled to 200
and are now increased to about 650. They are the only Indians that are still supposed
to be at war with the United States.”
Large burnt out areas could be seen from the road and, as
far as the eyes could see there was nothing but swamp and forest, no sign of human
life. Houses were miles and miles apart but close to the road. The abundant wild
life could be seen from the road – turtles on rocks and logs sunning
themselves, turkey vultures, American eagles, wood ibis, blue herons, white
herons, egrets, almost extinct sandhill cranes, cougars, alligators, native
bears, deer, flamingoes, everglades kite, cape sable, manatees, alligators,
snakes, and sea side sparrows. Over 50,000 bird species inhabited the area.
Morning feed
Photo: Ileana Johnson
Next stop was beautiful Sanibel Island with its famous sea
shell beach. It did not have any camp to park a trailer so Ray drove into Ft.
Meyers Beach and stayed there for two days at Don Carlos Trailer and Cottage
Court for 75 cents, 300 ft. from the Caloosahatchee River.
The wind was blowing fiercely all night, rocking the trailer quite dangerously
for comfort.
Next morning they drove across the bridge to the Estero
Island where the shells were plentiful on the beach – conchs, whelks (a sea
snail), sand dollars (a sea urchin), starfishes (marine invertebrates), sea
urchins, and scallops. They had to boil the shells as many were still inhabited
by marine mollusks. I cannot imagine anyone today on a road trip disturbing nature
in this way. But even collecting an empty shell of a dead marine creature is
removing an opportunity for another sea invertebrate to find a home inside.
Last stop of Ray’s road trip was Sarasota with the largest
trailer city in the country. The parking fee was $2.25 per week and the camp
had everything to keep one occupied and entertained – free movies, dances with
attendance of upwards of 300 people, a five-piece orchestra, first aid room,
men’s card room, ladies’ card room, its own newspaper, post office, community
hall, grocery store, six horse shoe courts, swings, slides, 14 shuffle boards,
bingo, a sand box for kids, and a different program every day. The trailer park
had 600 trailers laid out in streets, with beautiful landscaped areas. The only
charge levied was a government amusement tax of 5 cents.
Sarasota of today, with its Siesta Key, has been voted
several times the most beautiful beach in the country. Currently suffering from
the worst case of Red Tide in its history, the beach has been less than
inviting to tourists for the last three months. Dead fish, brown waters, brown
sand, and respiratory distress have dominated reality daily. Mother Nature will
take its course and will eventually return the sugar white sands and crystal
clear waters to Siesta Key.
Who is Ray?
ReplyDeleteRay was Dave's grandfather, Chriss. Three-year old Joan was his mom. Cryptic notes were found in the family attic about this long road trip in 1942. I found it fascinating considering that world was embroiled in World War II and there should have been rationing of gasoline perhaps.
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