I'm in Florida at the moment, trying to finish the manuscript for my book, tentatively titled Imaginary Eden: A History of Florida Tourism. I spent most of the day doing editing, and on Friday I'll be in the Photographic Archives trying to select the pictures. Thinking about that made me remember some of my own photographs. I probably won't be able to use any of these (since I'm not a great photographer) but I thought I'd share a few, along with my thoughts about how these places appear in the book.
The city gates of St. Augustine, Florida's Oldest City and its first tourist city. People began arriving here in the 1820s, seeking a cure from tuberculosis. It is frequently described as an American city with an "Old World Village" feel. Today it is a strange mix of historical and hysterical---the biggest new industry seems to be the nightly "ghost tours." Fun trivia fact---in 1907 the town debated tearing down these lovely old gates for something more modern. Aren't you glad they didn't?
The Ponce de Leon hotel, now better known as Flagler College. This was Henry Flagler's first hotel, a landmark of the Gilded Age. In the late 1800s, the Standard Oil partner began building a long chain of luxury hotels down the eastern coast of Florida, connected by his Florida East Coast Railroad. Not only did Flagler open Florida to elite tourism, he also boosted Florida's economy. On the Gulf Coast, Flagler's friendly rival, Henry Plant, built a similar string of hotels and railroads. As one writer commented, without the two Henrys development would have come to Florida, but much more slowly and with much less glamor.
My very favorite tourism spot in Florida, the Ed Ball Wakulla Springs State Park, located just south of Tallahassee. The lodge dates to the 1930s, and the park includes a jungle cruise ride, a glass bottom boat ride (which rarely operates, due to the polluted water) and a swimming area. It's also the scene of weddings, class reunions, and charity events, as it was once the home of political rallies. Ed Ball, the millionaire who owned it, was not adverse to picking up a few "nickels and dimes" from his attraction, but he refused to turn it into a "honky tonk" like Cypress Gardens (which was owed by his pal, Dick Pope). If you want to know what really old school Florida tourism was like, go to Wakulla Springs.
This is not a prayer for God to send more travelers or keep the hurricanes away. It's a figure from the Four Freedoms monument in Madison, Florida (my hometown). It honors a local World War II hero, Colin P. Kelly Jr., and reflects FDR's famous speech. I put it here to note that tourism is something that affects small towns in Florida. Madison has a Four Freedoms festival, and is considering adding a Civil War re-enactment to the social calendar. But a new bike trail, designed to try and lure cyclists from the region, met with harsh criticism from the rural citizens who didn't want it running between their homes and the highway. Tourism seems like a quick and easy way to make money, but whenever it occurs, community standards will be called into question.
You can't talk tourism without throwing something tacky into the mix---in this case a pirate guarding t-shirts! As much as I should hate places like this, I often find them fascinating!
And finally---a self-portrait in the mirror of a carousel in St. Augustine. Working on this project has inspired me to a good bit of self-reflection (sorry about the pun). I find myself thinking a lot about what it means to be a Floridian, and how that question is like the famous one of what does it mean to be a Southerner? How do these things fit together?

