Ghosts of the garrison

It was a lovely day for a bike ride, so I headed for downtown.  It was still a little too chilly in the shadows of the downtown skyscrapers so I pedaled over towards the parking wasteland of South downtown.  I'm always fascinated when I travel through this area at how the bodies of the buildings that once dotted this area are still visible.  Most the buildings were knocked down only to their foundations.

Sometimes a foot or two of wall was left to serve as a type of barrier between the street and lot.

Under the bridge downtown

My friend Cesar of CesarDPhoto.com recently posted some pictures on his blog that caught my attention.  I enjoy taking my bicycle out for the occasional leisurely ride down bayshore or through downtown and sometimes I even ride it to work.  One of my biggest gripes about bicycling from South Tampa / Bayshore area into downtown is the difficult and sometimes dangerous trip over the river.  Maneuvering the one-way bridges and narrow and steep curving sidewalks that lead to them are not easy for a casual or new rider.  So I was surprised to see Cesar's photo of the pedestrian path under the Platt Street bridge, I thought that one may be there but never took the time to check for myself.

Sarasota School in Tampa

The Sarasota school of architecture has recently undergone a resurrgence in popularity, prompted by several books and the recent fight and unfortunate demolition of Paul Rudolph's masterpiece, Riverview High School in Sarasota.  Two styles of regional modernism emerged in Florida in the mid-twentieth century, the Sarasota School on the west central coast and Tropical Modernism in South Florida.  There are examples of both schools of work in Tampa, but the Sarasota School is the most prominent of the two here. While most of the members of the Sarasota School came from other areas of the country, Tampa boasted the only native, Mark Hampton.  Mark Hampton worked directly under Paul Rudolph in the Rudolph and Twitchell firm. Hampton then moved back to Tampa where opened his own office and worked in the area until the 1970s, when he moved to Coconut Grove.  Hampton's most famous designs in Tampa were Galloway's furniture gallery, the old St. Mary's Episcopal church, the Horizon House and the Webb residence.

Galloway's Furniture gallery

Burying our Past - Palm River

When the Tampa Bay History journal was re-issued in 2007 (originally published from 1979-1998) the first essay in the edition was an intriguing look at the Tampa bypass canal system and flood management control in central Hillsborough County titled "The Taming of the Hillsborough River: How Tampa Gained a Moat, Destroyed a Creek, and Forgot a River" by Thom Foley.   While the Hillsborough River is mentioned in the title, the essay focused mostly on Palm River and Six Mile Creek.

Palm River is south of SR 60 / Adamo Drive and flows into McKay bay south of Ybor City.  Upstream the river bends towards the north and was called Six Mile Creek.  Here was where Plant's railroad first entered the area.  In the first half of the 20th century if you were traveling into Tampa from Brandon, Plant City, Lakeland or any other community to the East you had to travel down Broadway over an old bridge spanning Six Mile Creek. Surrounding the bridge was the small community of Six Mile Creek that contained a market and service station ready to meet the needs of travelers.  When settlers first came to the area they set up farms along the creek and river.  As the area grew industrial factories began to set up shop near the creek and river shores.

Burying our Past - Spanishtown Creek

The first recorded non-native settlement in Tampa was at Spanishtown Creek.  It was said to be inhabited by Cuban fishermen around 1783, many decades before Fort Brooke was established.  Up until the establishment of Henry Plant's railway and hotel in the late 1880s this area was mainly farmland and homesteads.  After Plant's hotel was built tony neighborhoods began to platted directly south of the hotel, centering along Hyde Park Ave. (named after Chicago's Hyde Park neighborhood) and Plant Ave.  Slowly this area started to become more developed.  Below is the original plat map of the Packwoods Subdivision from 1892, from the Hills. Co. Property Appraisers site which shows the path of the creek at that time and how the lots and streets would be laid out:

Burying our Past - Palma Ceia Springs

Urban springs are fascinating to me. In Florida, springs usually seem to be billed as "natural destinations" in rural and smaller towns, off the beaten path, or the source for our bottled water needs.  There are a few intact springs within the Tampa City limits.  However, most of these springs have been covered over and made part of a greater underground stormwater drainage system.  One of these is Palma Ceia springs right off Bayshore Blvd. and Rubideaux in Fred Ball Park.

In the mid 1800s this spring was known for it's healing powers and people came to bathe in its waters. This fountain was erected in 1906 (as the inscription on both sides indicates) and is supplied by the spring itself. one of the few indications that an actual spring lies somewhere underfoot.  A large pool was erected in 1928 to accomodate the growing population and number of tourists coming to the area.

Burying the Past Series - A creek, a river and a spring.

I will be starting a series of posts entitled "Burying the Past". This will be a brief look at some of the changes that development has brought to the local geography and some of the elements that have essentially been "Buried". Stay tuned!

The River:

The Creek:

The Spring:

Hiding our past

One would think that the Floridan Hotel and the Tampa Theater building are the last remaining historic high rises left in downtown tampa. Well, that isn't true. There is another 1920s era skyscraper still gracing our skyline.

The large 12 story structure built in 1925 was formally called the Wallace S. Building (The 4 story adjacent structure was home to the Tampa Morning Tribune) and it sits on block bordered by Ashley, Twiggs, Tampa and Zack. Today it is better known as the Huntington Bank building (formally Gold Bank) and my how it has changed.

(The above picture is from Emporis.com)

In the late 60s / early 70s the building underwent a major renovation. Elevator shafts were added on the South side of building, the window court was closed in and she got the royal Florida stucco treatment. All remaining buildings on the block were demolished, making way for the most important feature of late 20th century downtowns, parking! While the renovation hardly does the original justice, it ultimately saved the building during a period when most of downtowns historic structures were being neglected and/or demolished.

There are many more buildings throughout Tampa that have received updates and renovations that hide their historic character, but this is probably the best and most dramatic example.