The 26-mile horse trail that wasn’t

Parkland is known for its horse-loving history. In fact, when Parkland was incorporated in 1963, its residents fought to maintain a rural lifestyle where people were few and horses were plentiful.

According to the Parkland Historical Society — an organization dedicated to preserving local traditions and providing opportunities for the community to learn about Parkland’s heritage — Parkland founder Bruce Blount loved and raised animals and originally wanted the city to be called “The Ranches.” His intent was to attract residents who liked animals and country living.

But over time, the city evolved, with development changing Parkland’s agricultural lifestyle and creating a shift in attitude away from horses. As roads, shopping centers, and houses began to significantly alter the rural feel of the city, and infringe on land for horse trails, some residents lobbied to preserve Parkland’s horse-centric roots — even calling for the development of a county-wide horse trail.

Led by City Commissioner Mary Jane Sexton between 1986 and 1987, this ambitious project sought to create a 26-mile horse trail that would begin at C.B. Smith Park in Pembroke Pines and end at Tradewinds Park in Coconut Creek. The proposed path would wind north through Markham Park and then have riders following the Sawgrass Expressway toward Tradewinds Park.

Another proposed path (as detailed in Sexton’s 1987 letter to former Coconut Creek City Planner Craig Benedict) had the trail originating at Tree Tops Park in Davie and running north through the Everglades Conservation Area, up into the Loxahatchee Preserve. By building the trail along the levee alongside the Everglades, it would keep the horses away from traffic. This alternate route also included a trail connecting riders with Tradewinds Park via a path through Parkland and Coconut Creek that would require cooperation from local residents.

Sexton faced plenty of opposition to the plan — including that of non-horse-riding Parkland residents with homes along the cross-country trail’s proposed path, who were concerned about the cleanup of horse feces left along the trail. Without cooperation from these residents, connecting the trail to Tradewinds Park would prove difficult.

Despite continued efforts by Sexton and the South Florida Trail Riders, a volunteer horse-riding association, ultimately, the dream of a county-wide trail was never realized.

This article was made possible by archived newspaper clippings generously provided by the Parkland Historical Society. For more information, or to research more history about Parkland, visit www.parklandhistoricalsociety.com.

… That our flag was still there

This July 4th we will be celebrating our nation’s birthday with gatherings, fireworks, and singing of “The Star-Spangled Banner.”

The good ole red, white, and blue are the colors that the Founding Fathers chose to represent our values. According to Charles Thompson, Secretary of the Continental Congress, the color white stood for purity and innocence; the color red represents hardiness and valor; while blue stood for vigilance, perseverance, and justice.

These values unified the 13 original colonies into declaring their independence from the British monarchy and victory in the War of Independence, and the continual growth and success for the past 246 years.

All of us have faced stress in recent years, some more than others. Many are still facing the challenges of caring for loved ones, the increased cost of living, rollercoaster investment portfolios, and anxiety for the future.

So this year, it is even more important to not forget that we, the people of the United States, are founded on perseverance and hardiness. This community has joined to hold each other after facing the evil of the MSD shooting. We have stood together with each other throughout the past couple of years of the pandemic’s ups and downs. We have lent a helping hand to each other when times were tough.

So when we sing “Gave proof through the night, That our flag was still there,” reflect on the resilience of our community. Quoting a former president, “The colors of our flag signify the qualities of the human spirit we Americans cherish.” So we should have faith that our common values, symbolized by the flag, will unite us and persevere through the tough times.

6888th: Heroes of the Central Postal Directory Battalion

In early 1945, as the Battle of the Bulge concluded, Army officials reported that a lack of mail was hurting morale. Warehouses were filled with millions of pieces of mail destined for the seven million Americans serving in the European theatre. The task of getting that mail to its intended recipients fell on the 6888th, nicknamed the “Six Triple Eight” Central Postal Directory Battalion.

Except for a few smaller units of nurses, the Six Triple Eight was the only all-Black unit from the Women’s Army Corps to serve overseas during World War II. Major Charity Edna Adams was selected to command the battalion and became the first Black woman to hold a commission in the Women’s Army Auxiliary Corps.

The Six Triple Eight confronted the packed warehouses in Birmingham, England. These buildings were unheated and dimly lit, and the windows were blacked out to prevent light from showing during nighttime air raids. As it was a cold winter, they wore long johns and extra layers of clothing under their coats while working in these warehouses.

The unit members were organized into three separate shifts daily, so work continued around the clock, seven days a week. They tracked individual service members by maintaining about seven million locator cards, including serial numbers to distinguish different individuals with the same name. They dealt with “undeliverable” mail that was sent to their location for redirection. They investigated insufficiently addressed mail for clues to determine the intended recipient, and they handled the sad duty of returning mail addressed to service members who had died.

Once the immense backlog in Birmingham was gone, the 6888th Central Postal Directory Battalion sailed to France in 1945, shortly after V-E Day. They encountered another backlog of undelivered mail dating back as far as two to three years, which again would take an estimated six months to process.

While in Rouen, the 6888th experienced a tragedy. On July 8, 1945, PFC Mary J. Barlow and PFC Mary H. Bankston were killed in a jeep accident, and Sergeant Dolores M. Browne died on July 13 from injuries resulting from the accident. Because the War Department did not provide funds for funerals, the women of the 6888th pooled their resources to honor their deceased members. First Lieutenant Dorothy Scott found three unit members who had experience with mortuary work to take care of the bodies, and unit members paid for caskets. Memorial services were organized and held for the deceased, and Major Adams wrote to inform their families in the United States of their fate. Sergeant Browne, PFC Barlow, and PFC Bankston were buried with honors in the Normandy American Cemetery at Colleville-sur-Mer (there are only four women buried there).

In February 1946, the remainder of the unit returned to the United States and was disbanded at Fort Dix, New Jersey, without further ceremony. There were no parades, no public appreciation, and no official recognition of their accomplishments, although Charity Adams was promoted to lieutenant colonel upon her return to the U.S.

This is not a story about the mail. This is a story about 855 Black women, who found a way to serve when the nation needed them most. In 2019, a bipartisan effort was started to award the Congressional Gold Medal to the 6888th. Both senate and house passed the measure and President Joe Biden signed the bipartisan bill on March 14.

Portrait of a lady: Marjory Stoneman Douglas

She was an environmentalist, a suffragist, and called herself a “writing woman.” Marjory Stoneman Douglas was born April 7, 1890, in Minneapolis. Douglas graduated from Wellesley College, Wellesley, Massachusetts, in 1912, where she had been elected Class Orator. Wellesley, in fact, had a Department of Expression that Douglas believed “prepared me for all my later public speaking.”

Her mother, Florence Lillian Trefethen, but she went by Lillian, died of breast cancer after Marjory finished college. She was the one who made the funeral arrangements. She had been told her father was living in Florida at the time, her parents having separated when she was 6. In September 1915, after a brief and unsuccessful marriage to a man named Kenneth Douglas, she left Massachusetts and moved down to Florida to live with her father, Frank Bryant Stoneman.

Stoneman had started a paper in Miami, the “News Record” in 1906. He strongly opposed Governor Napoleon Bonaparte Broward’s eff orts to drain the Everglades. Marjory believed this is where her earliest love of the Everglades came from Stoneman and Frank Shutts reorganized the paper as the “Miami Herald” in 1910. Marjory started work at the “Herald” as the society editor. After a year, her father and step-mother took a month’s vacation and Marjory oversaw the editorial page in her father’s absence.

In 1916 Marjory Stoneman Douglas was enlisted by Mrs. William Jennings Bryan, along with Mrs. Frank Stranahan, founder of Fort Lauderdale, and the widows of two former Florida governors, to speak to the state legislature about ratifying the suffrage amendment.

“All four of us spoke to a joint committee, wearing our best hats.” She writes in her autobiography. “Talking to them was like talking to graven images. They never paid attention to us at all. They weren’t even listening.”

That same year Douglas was assigned a story for the “Herald” on the fi rst woman to enlist in the Naval Reserve in the state of Florida. She didn’t just get the story, she became a part of it as she, herself, enlisted. The Navy made her a yeoman first class. She convinced the commandant at Key West to help her put in for an official discharge in 1917. “The Navy was as glad to get rid of me as I was to leave,” she writes.

Douglas then joined the American Red Cross, Civilian Relief department. By the summer of 1918, she was on her way to an overseas assignment in France. She was gazing down the Rue de Rivoli when the peace treaty ending World War I was signed in June 1919. “…the guns went off from up and down the river…” and “everybody was kissing everybody,” she wrote. Douglas stayed on with the American Red Cross overseas, traveling from place to place and writing stories about the turning over of Red Cross clinics to local authorities.

Douglas returned to Miami in 1920. She returned to the “Herald” as an assistant editor making $30 a week. She also got her own column called “The Galley,” which she describes as “a string of short items, sayings, and musings on local and national affairs.” Douglas spent time with many friends after her return, including Ruth Bryan Owens, daughter of William Jennings Bryan, and Mrs. Bryan. Owens “lectured, ran the women’s clubs, and eventually ran for the legislature.” Ruth Bryan Owens was elected to the 71st Congress in 1928.

The idea for Everglades National Park started with landscape designer Ernest F. Coe, known as “The Father of the Everglades,” and Douglas supported it in print. A committee was formed which included botanist David Fairchild, writer and explorer John Oliver LaGorce of the “National Geographic,” and, of course, Douglas herself.

She writes: “The seasons of the Everglades are the mosquito season and the non-mosquito season. During the worst part of the mosquito season, people would move their cows up to Florida City where the cows wouldn’t be killed by the bugs.”

“People sent hives of bees down from Pensacola on flatboats to get the mangrove honey, but in the mosquito season, they’d take
the bees away so the mosquitoes wouldn’t kill them, either.”

In 1924 Douglas began to experience nervous fatigue. Eventually, her father called a doctor who said the “Herald” was too much pressure and she needed to get away from it. After returning from WWI she had contributed to other magazines.

In the summer of 1924, Douglas visited relatives in Massachusetts and the agent who had been selling her work, Robert Thomas Hardy. He recommended she write for the “Saturday Evening Post,” and she decided to freelance full time.

Douglas’ house in Coconut Grove was finished in the fall of 1926. The work had gone slowly as she had to pay the contractor based on the money she made selling her writing. The City of Miami designated it an historic site in 1995. From 1926 to 1941, Douglas continued writing magazine pieces, and for the local civic theater. In February of 1941, her father died. He and Shutts had sold the “Miami Herald” to the Knight family in 1939.

She took this time to get out of the newspaper business and write a novel, “The River of Grass,” about the Everglades. Her friend, publisher, and fellow novelist Hervey Allen had asked her to write about the Miami River, but she managed to change his mind.

She was referred to state hydrologist Garald Parker and worked with him through her three to four years of research. The book itself took four to fi ve years to complete but came out longer than the agreed-upon 120,000 words. Her publisher told her to cut 20,000. She wired back: “Cut 19,000. Refuse to cut another word. If you don’t agree, I withdraw the book from publication.”

“They say I’m pigheaded,” she cheerfully confessed.
“Pigheadedness covers a multitude of virtues as well as sins.”

“The River of Grass” was printed in November 1947 to great commercial success. It also coincided with the founding of the Everglades National Park. Douglas attended the ceremonies where President Harry Truman formally dedicated the park. Ernest Coe had wanted the park to encompass a much larger area and was upset with the result. He had to be convinced to attend the ceremony.

Douglas began lecturing in the 60s, and “The Rivers of America” series, of which her “The Everglades: River of Grass” was a part, was quite successful. She was also recruited to write a book for a series about regions of Florida. “Florida: The Long Frontier”was published in 1967.

Her next book project was a biography of ornithologist and naturalist W.H. Hudson. So, at the age of 77, sporting a black eye patch after cataract surgery, she traveled to Buenos Aires to begin research. She visited Hudson’s birthplace, then traveled to England to visit his old publishing house, J.M. Dent. She cut her travels short and returned to Miami when her eyes began to fail her completely. She turned over the rough draft to friend and editor Margaret Ewell.

In the late 60s, some 20 years after the publication of her seminal “The River of Grass,” Marjory Stoneman Douglas became an ardent environmentalist. The National Audubon Society in Miami got in a fi ght to stop a proposed oil refinery on the shores of lower Biscayne Bay. Immediately afterward, a jetport in the Everglades was suggested. Joe Browder, head of the National Audubon Society in Miami, showed up on Douglas’ doorstep to ask her to issue a “ringing denunciation” of the jetport. She said she felt those types of things were more effective if they came  from an organization. Browder then asked her to start one.

The Friends of the Everglades’ first member was weather historian Michael Chenoweth. Douglas enlisted a treasurer, vice president, and secretary, and started giving speeches wherever they would let her. The jetport was stopped, “not necessarily through my efforts,” Douglas said, “but through the efforts of many people and the responsiveness of the Secretary of the Interior under President Nixon.”

In 1990, a high school in Parkland, Florida was named after her when it opened, for her 100th birthday. In 1993 President Bill Clinton awarded Douglas the Presidential Medal of Freedom, the highest civilian honor granted by the United States of America. Marjory Stoneman Douglas was active in environmental conservation in Florida until her passing in 1998 at  108.

Valentine’s Day origin hardly romantic

How did our current Valentine’s Day celebration come about? As with many of our favorite holidays, there are dark and murky tales surrounding its origins.

Not-so-lovely beginnings

One school of thought is that the Valentine’s Day holiday originated with the Roman fest of Lupercalia, held February 13 – 15, which included fertility rites.

Another possible explanation is that Roman Emperor Claudius II executed two men, both named Valentine, on February 14th back in
different years during the 3rd century. The martyred men were recognized by the Catholic Church with sainthood and thus the recognition of St. Valentine’s Day.

Yet another interpretation says that a jailed priest named Valentine was in love with his jailor’s daughter, and sent her a letter before he was beheaded. The Feast of Saint Valentine was recognized by Pope Gelasius in 496 A.D.

Through the years, Valentine’s Day evolved into a celebration
of love. The first mention of this is in Chaucer’s late 14th century poem, “The Parliament of Fowls.” Shakespeare mentions St. Valentine’s Day in A Midsummer’s Night’s Dream and Hamlet.

Heartfelt cards 

While Valentine’s Day cards were previously imported from Europe, in the mid1800’s, Esther Howland of Worcester, MA started designing and selling Valentines domestically, and is credited with starting the Valentine’s Day card industry in the United States.

By the late 1800s, cards were mass-produced, and by 1916, Hallmark began producing them. According to the Greeting Card
Association, with nearly 150 million Valentine’s cards sent each year — not including kids’ classroom cards—it’s the second largest card-giving occasion, Christmas ranking number one.

Cupid 

Perhaps you are familiar with Sam Cooke’s 1961 hit, “Cupid,” which begins:

“Cupid, draw back your bow And let your arrow go Straight to my lover’s heart for me…”

Bows, arrows, and a flying cherub, how did they become symbols of Valentine’s Day?

Cupid is known as the god of affection. In Greek mythology,
he was known as Eros, the son of Aphrodite, the goddess of love and beauty. In Roman mythology, he was the son of her counterpart, Venus, but in a chubby- cheeked, child-like form.

While our Valentine depiction of him is shooting arrows to pierce the heart and make someone fall in love, legend has it he might carry two arrows, one golden arrow with a sharp tip to make people
fall in love, the other a blunt lead arrow to make someone fall out of love. Ouch!

Those sweet Valentine’s Day treats
Heart-shaped boxes of chocolate, or pink and red M&Ms, are among the most popular candies to give and get for Valentine’s Day, but what about those little candy hearts or conversation hearts, as
they’re known?

Their story dates back to 1847, to Boston pharmacist Oliver Chase’s candy machine invention that rolled lozenge dough into wafers, ultimately known as Necco wafers (an acronym for the New England Confectionary Company).

Supposedly inspired by the growing market for Valentines, in 1866, his brother, using vegetable dye, found a way to print words on candy. The iconic little heart shapes weren’t made until 1902, however.

Wishing you a sweet Valentine’s Day!

The storied history of a South Florida-born Black baseball team

On December 16, 2020, Major League Baseball (MLB) officially designated the Negro Leagues as “Major League.” By doing this, MLB “ensures that future generations will remember the approximately 3400 players of the Negro Leagues during this period as Major League-caliber players.” MLB continued by stating, “the statistics and records of these players will become a part of MLB’s history.”

MLB and the Elias Sports Bureau (the primary source of statistics for ESPN, Comcast Sportsnet, Turner Sports, NFL Network, Sunday Night Football, Monday Night Football,Thursday Night Football,  league and media websites, and dozens of broadcasters of MLB, NBA, NFL, NHL, and MLS telecasts) have begun a review process to determine the full scope of this designation’s ramifications on statistics and records.

This means Miami’s first MLB team is not the Marlins. Instead, South Florida was the birthplace of another illustrious “Major League” team, founded as the Miami Giants in 1936.

The team will see among its alumni many names baseball fans would recognize today – Hank Aaron, all-time MLB home-run record holder till it was broken in 2007 by Barry Bonds, and Satchel Paige,  the Hall of Fame pitcher. Also, the first female professional baseball player, Toni Stone, was on the team. All their history will now be incorporated into the story of MLB.

Unfortunately the owners, looking for a publicity stunt, decided to cash in on a faraway conflict. As Italian dictator Mussolini, in a prelude to World War II, invaded Ethiopia in 1935, the team was renamed to the Ethiopian Clowns.

The team owners appear to have borrowed from the headlines of local black newspapers, which often featured sympathetic headlines to the Ethiopian plight. The team’s Ethiopia reference was seen by some as the exploitation of black sympathy, which encouraged some Negro league owners to oppose adding the Clowns to their ranks.

Homestead Giants (playing in Pittsburg) co-owner C. Posey, for example, wrote in his weekly Courier column in 1942 that sportswriters would “always feel disgusted at Syd [the Clowns owner] for… capitalizing on the rape of Ethiopia when that country was in distress.” In the Afro-American, the longest- running black weekly newspaper in the US, E.B. Rea took a different view, calling the move to block the Clowns “as funny as the Clowns themselves.” “If so many were paying to see them joke and jest, how much more ardently would they turn out to see them play Negro American competition?”

The Clowns were known for their antics. The box scores featured King Tut, Abbadaba, Tarzan, Ulysses Grant Greene, Wahoo, Goose Tatum, Highpockets West, Peanuts Nyassas, and Haile Selassie, emperor of Ethiopia.

At the same time, the Clowns were also known as a first-rate baseball team. Legendary pitcher Satchel Paige, playing on a visiting team in 1939, described the team as, “fast-fielding, hard-hitting” and “one of the greatest clubs [he] has ever played against.” Exactly what all baseball teams aspire to be remembered for.

The Clowns won the Negro American League championships in 1950, 1951, 1952, and 1954.

The Clowns name stayed with the team through its transition to the Indianapolis Clowns, where it signed a 17-year-old shortstop and cleanup hitter with the nickname “Porkchop,” because of his fondness for them.

“Porkchop”, aka, Hank Aaron, played three months for the Clowns before being purchased by the Boston Braves for $10,000, but it had an impact on him.

“Everything I learned [from the Clowns] got me ready for the big leagues,” Aaron said in an interview with mlb.com. “I honestly believe that I wouldn’t have gotten to the big leagues as quickly as I did if I hadn’t even played those few months with the Clowns.”

The team left the Negro American League in 1955 to pursue a full-time barnstorming schedule (like the Harlem Globetrotters). You can get a taste of their antics if you have seen the 1976 movie “The Bingo Long Traveling All-Stars & Motor Kings”, starring James Earl Jones, Richard Pryor, and Billy Dee Williams. The movie is loosely based on the barnstorming Clowns.

On August 16, 2020, the Florida Marlins honored the first South Florida Major League team by donning the Miami Giants uniform on the 100th anniversary of the Negro League’s founding. They played against the Braves, long time home to the “Hammerin’ Hank”, who outgrew his earlier Clown nickname.

The Marlins did not quite channel the “fast-fielding, hard-hitting” Clowns, by losing 4-0 to the Braves.

RIP Hank Aaron, one of baseball’s greatest, died at 86.

From dirt supply line to six lanes of bustle and business

Drivers regularly travel roadways like “telegraph road” or “post road” without giving the names a second thought. Yet, road names often have historical roots with interesting stories behind them. South Florida’s Military Trail is one with a history older than Florida’s statehood.

Today’s Military Trail is a 46-mile, north and south, commuter route running from Jupiter to Pompano Beach, teeming with modern development and prone to congestion. It’s a far cry from its origins as a trail blazed by Tennessee and Missouri military volunteers during the Second Seminole War (1835- 1842).

Well before Florida became a U.S. territory in 1821, the Seminole people were being driven out by settlers moving into their homeland. Conflicts naturally ensued, eventually leading to the three Seminole Wars between 1817 and 1858.

The second war erupted after the U.S. government tried to forcefully remove all Seminoles from Florida.

Seminoles were adept at guerrilla warfare and used their knowledge of the Everglades to their advantage. Outnumbered and outgunned, however, by 1842, according to britannica.com, “some 3,000 to 4,000 Seminoles had been resettled, and only a few hundred remained. The Armed Occupation Act of 1842 promoted white settlement in Florida and the Second Seminole War was declared over on August 14, 1842.”

Toward the beginning of the second conflict, President Andrew Jackson dispatched General Thomas Jesup to assume control of the Florida troops. The military began building a string of posts in South Florida, starting with Fort Dallas (today’s Miami) in 1836, then Fort Jupiter in 1838.

Jesup ordered 233 Tennessee volunteers to cut a supply trail from Fort Jupiter to the New River in what is now Broward County.

The group was led by Major William Lauderdale, a longtime colleague of Andrew Jackson and fellow Tennessean. Volunteers followed the dryer ground of a coastal pine ridge, cutting a 63-mile path through the hammocks to the river in just four days. There, they established the garrison eventually named Fort Lauderdale. That path, originally known as “Lauderdale’s Route,” was used for military transport during the next two decades of the Seminole conflict and eventually dubbed “Military Trail.”

After the Seminole wars ended, the trail continued to see foot traffic and passenger and freight movement via covered wagons. Eventually, the trail slipped into relative disuse, until Henry Flagler put his mark on Florida in the late 19th century.

Flagler’s East Coast Railway and the resort hotels he built along the coast put South Florida on the map. Soon, rampant land speculation took hold across South Florida, which included the area along Military Trail. By the early 20th century, moneyed Northerners were lured by sales-literature rife with praise for what was otherwise wilderness and swampland. They arrived first by train and eventually by automobile, all wanting their piece of Florida.

By the 1920s, coastal towns like Palm Beach and Lake Worth were blossoming. To handle the influx of people and their automobiles, better roads were needed. Along with new roads, improvements were made to existing routes like Military Trail. Some sections along Military Trail were paved as early as 1923. Other stretches were improved, often by hand, under Franklin Roosevelt’s WPA in the 1930s.

Yet, up to WWII, much of South Florida remained undeveloped and lengths of Military Trail still unimproved, mainly serving area farms and ranches. Rather than residents and vacationers, herds of roaming cattle filled the landscape.

Post-WWII, another real estate boom brought an even greater influx of arrivals than in the 1920s. Palm Beach became one of the fastest-growing metro areas in the country, with its population doubling in the 1950s. Military Trail grew into a transportation artery as Palm Beach and other coastal cities spread westward.

Amazingly, even into the 1960s, there were sections of Military Trail that were still two-lanes and even dirt roadway. Delray Beach, not much more than a sleepy retirement village in the 1960s, contained a dirt length of the road flanked by farmland.

In Boca Raton, Lynn University began life in 1962, astride a dirt stretch. As late as 1979, Military Trail in Boynton Beach remained a single-lane dirt path mainly used by area farms and ranches. Most everything west was still agricultural. In 1980, a shopping center with a Kmart being built west of Military Trail was hailed as a big deal. A small stretch of single-lane pavement designated as “Old Military Trail” still exists in Boynton Beach.

Military Trail experienced its own growing pains alongside South Florida’s exponential growth in the 1980s. Now often at six lanes, it’s hard to even envision the wilderness trail troops carved by hand nearly two centuries earlier. And, while shorter, today’s 46 miles still follow the path soldiers marched from Fort Jupiter to Fort Dallas and serves as a reminder of a somber chapter in Florida’s history.