janet devries - News - The Coastal Star2024-03-29T02:35:38Zhttps://thecoastalstar.com/profiles/blogs/feed/tag/janet+devriesAlong the Coast: Cocoanut dreamshttps://thecoastalstar.com/profiles/blogs/along-the-coast-cocoanut-dreams2017-05-31T17:00:00.000Z2017-05-31T17:00:00.000ZThe Coastal Starhttps://thecoastalstar.com/members/TheCoastalStar<div><p style="text-align:center;"><strong><span style="font-family:georgia, palatino;" class="font-size-5">Exhibit sprouts from fortunate photo find</span></strong></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><strong><span style="font-family:georgia, palatino;" class="font-size-5"><a href="{{#staticFileLink}}7960721869,original{{/staticFileLink}}"><img width="600" src="{{#staticFileLink}}7960721869,original{{/staticFileLink}}" class="align-center" alt="7960721869?profile=original" /></a></span></strong><em>Nancy, Leila and Dorothy Pierson (l-r) display decorated coconuts at their roadside ‘Cocoanut Stand,’</em></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><em>possibly to raise money for the Red Cross during World War I.</em></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><a href="{{#staticFileLink}}7960722061,original{{/staticFileLink}}"><img width="500" src="{{#staticFileLink}}7960722061,original{{/staticFileLink}}" class="align-center" alt="7960722061?profile=original" /></a><br /><em>A hand-tinted photograph of what is now State Road A1A.</em></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><br /><strong>Photos courtesy of Janet DeVries</strong></p>
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<p style="text-align:center;"><span style="font-family:'times new roman', times;" class="font-size-2"><strong><a href="{{#staticFileLink}}7960722301,original{{/staticFileLink}}"><img width="600" src="{{#staticFileLink}}7960722301,original{{/staticFileLink}}" class="align-center" alt="7960722301?profile=original" /></a></strong><em>Leila Pierson leans against a cocoanut palm in this early 20th-century image.</em></span></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><span style="font-family:'times new roman', times;" class="font-size-2"><em><a href="{{#staticFileLink}}7960722090,original{{/staticFileLink}}"><img width="600" src="{{#staticFileLink}}7960722090,original{{/staticFileLink}}" class="align-center" alt="7960722090?profile=original" /></a></em></span><span style="font-family:'times new roman', times;" class="font-size-2"><em>Her husband, Romeyn Pierson Sr., stands near the boat named for his wife.</em></span></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><span style="font-family:'times new roman', times;" class="font-size-2"><a href="{{#staticFileLink}}7960722676,original{{/staticFileLink}}"><img width="600" src="{{#staticFileLink}}7960722676,original{{/staticFileLink}}" class="align-center" alt="7960722676?profile=original" /></a><em>Romeyn Pierson Jr. poses with his rifle.</em></span></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><span style="font-family:'times new roman', times;" class="font-size-2"><strong>Photos courtesy of Janet DeVries</strong></span></p>
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<p style="text-align:left;"><span style="font-family:'times new roman', times;" class="font-size-2"><strong>By Ron Hayes<br /> <br /></strong> You say “coconut.” They say “cocoanut.”<br /> The Oxford English Dictionary says cocoanut-with-an-a is the “old-fashioned spelling.”<br /> That’s why local historians Janet DeVries and Ginger Pedersen call their exhibit of old-fashioned Florida photographs, “Cocoanut Dreams.”<br /> “We spelled it that way on purpose,” says DeVries, without apology. “I actually had one person correct a press release and want to spell it without the ‘a.’”<br /> “Cocoanut Dreams,” on display through Sept. 14 on the second floor of the Boynton Beach City Library, features 30 historic photographs of Ocean Ridge, Manalapan, Hypoluxo Island, Lantana and Lake Worth, taken between 1912 and 1925, when cocoanut palms were more common than condos and air conditioning was only a dream.<br /> For DeVries, a librarian at Palm Beach State College and immediate past president of the Boynton Beach Historical Society, finding a crumbling photo album on eBay in 2014 was a dream come true.<br /> The owner was asking $200 but let her have it for $150. Inside, she found 108 photographs annotated with titles like “Boynton Hotel Cottages,” “Along Lake Worth” and “Manalapan.”<br /> Three years later, she has identified the photographer as A. Romeyn Pierson Jr., whose family owned a house on the dunes built in 1894 by Elnathan T. Field of Manalapan, N.J. <br /> Based on the ages of his children and other records, DeVries was able to date the pictures as having been made between 1912, when the family bought “Manalapan Cottage,” and 1925.<br /> “For the exhibit, I chose the ones that were really idyllic and depicted the area at that time, and also several of those he had hand-tinted,” she explains.<br /> Here’s Ocean Boulevard when it was only an unpaved road, a Red Cross volunteer selling cocoanut milk for 10 cents a serving, a Naval seaman in his “Cracker Jack” uniform.<br /> Here’s Leila, the boat Pierson’s father named after his wife, and here’s Leila herself, leaning against a palm tree.<br /> And there are cocoanut palms, of course. Lots and lots of cocoanut palms.<br /> “These people were planting cocoanut palms and trying to make money off them,” DeVries says, “and now we have coconut milk and coconut oil and people are touting the health benefits.”<br /> At 5:30 p.m. June 7, the library will host a reception during which DeVries will discuss her discovery, the Piersons, the photographs and the area as it was a century ago.<br /> The exhibit is sponsored by the city’s Art in Public Places program, whose manager, Debby Coles-Dobay, promises gifts for some who attend.<br /> “We’ve got 20 cocoanut palms sprouting in plastic pots that we’re going to give away,” Coles-Dobay said. “We’ll put names in a pot and draw 20, and those winners will take home their own cocoanut palm to plant. We’re sharing the dream.”<br /> But dreams die in time.<br /> Romeyn Pierson Sr. and his daughter, Dorothy, died in the flu epidemic of 1919, and his son, the photographer, succumbed to alcoholism in 1929.<br /> Their granddaughter, Nancy Tilton, inherited Manalapan Cottage, and after her death the house was razed in 2000.<br /> “It was a dream,” DeVries says, “but sometimes life gets in the way and the dream doesn’t survive the four D’s — divorce, disease, death and developers.”</span></p></div>Briny Breezes: Volunteers pull images of faded past into current focushttps://thecoastalstar.com/profiles/blogs/briny-breezes-volunteers-pull-images-of-faded-past-into-current-f2015-09-02T16:42:08.000Z2015-09-02T16:42:08.000ZChris Felkerhttps://thecoastalstar.com/members/ChrisFelker<div><p style="text-align:center;"><a href="{{#staticFileLink}}7960595275,original{{/staticFileLink}}"><img class="align-center" src="{{#staticFileLink}}7960595275,original{{/staticFileLink}}" width="538" alt="7960595275?profile=original" /></a><em>Travel trailers and the simple sedans that towed them used to line Ruth Mary Drive in Briny Breezes.</em></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><em><a href="{{#staticFileLink}}7960596060,original{{/staticFileLink}}"><img class="align-center" src="{{#staticFileLink}}7960596060,original{{/staticFileLink}}" width="538" alt="7960596060?profile=original" /></a>From left, Susan Atlee, Ann Carmody, Donna Clarke and Sandy Dietzel work to rescue fading photos.</em></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><a href="{{#staticFileLink}}7960596084,original{{/staticFileLink}}"><img class="align-center" src="{{#staticFileLink}}7960596084,original{{/staticFileLink}}" width="345" alt="7960596084?profile=original" /></a><em>In 1976, Bob and Mary Susdoft donned formal wear for a portrait.</em></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><em><a href="{{#staticFileLink}}7960596101,original{{/staticFileLink}}"><img class="align-center" src="{{#staticFileLink}}7960596101,original{{/staticFileLink}}" width="538" alt="7960596101?profile=original" /></a></em></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><em><em>Fay Jordan’s lawn mower landed on a power pole after 1964’s Hurricane Isbell.</em></em></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><em><a href="{{#staticFileLink}}7960595700,original{{/staticFileLink}}"><img class="align-center" src="{{#staticFileLink}}7960595700,original{{/staticFileLink}}" width="538" alt="7960595700?profile=original" /></a></em><em>1941 family portrait.</em></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><strong>Jerry Lower /The Coastal Star and Briny Historic Archives</strong></p>
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<p style="text-align:left;"><strong>By Ron Hayes</strong><br /><br /> In January 2014, when Lu McInnes retired after 22 years as Briny Breezes’ unpaid, untiring librarian, Donna Clarke took on the job brimming with enthusiasm.<br /> She would be a new broom. Winnow out the unused books. Build up the DVD collection. She would clean. She would paint. She did.<br /> “Everything looked pretty,” she says. <br /> “And then we looked down at those scrapbooks on the bottom shelf and thought, those are really ugly.”<br /> Thirty-five dime-store scrapbooks with cardboard covers. Faded scrapbooks filled with fading photos.<br /> “When I pulled them off the shelf, some bugs came out.”<br /> And nearly a century of memories, precious but poorly preserved.<br /> The “Briny Breezes Photo Album Restoration Project” was born.<br /> “We want to tell the story of Briny Breezes so somebody could sit down and say, ‘Oh, so this is how it happened,’ ” Clarke says.<br /> Joan Nichols, president of the town’s History Club, became a consultant. Janet DeVries of the Boynton Beach Historical Society dropped by to offer advice about preservation. <br /> In February, the annual bazaar committee donated $1,000 from this year’s earnings.<br /> Clarke bought a stack of expensive, archive-quality binders, and now, every Friday from 11 a.m. to 4 p.m. the project’s nine unpaid, untiring volunteers meet to preserve, protect and defend the long history of the little trailer park that became a town.<br /> They call themselves the Library Ladies.<br /> On a recent afternoon, they worked quietly — Kathy Gross and Susan Atlee, Brenda Dooley and Sandy Dietzel — carefully peeling old snapshots from fuzzy black pages and transferring them to new binders.<br /> “Here we’ve got something about putting in a disposal system in 1969,” Dooley said, pondering a faded color snapshot. “I have no idea what that is, but it’s kind of interesting.”<br /> “Our Disposal System,” the caption reads. “December 1969.”<br /> A photo to be saved, not disposed of, and Dooley transferred it to the new binder, attached without glue.<br /> “We’re putting everything in so it can be taken out without destroying the photographs,” Clarke explained.<br /> Everything begins with a 1926 photograph of “the mansion,” the Mediterranean Revival home Ward B. Miller built shortly after he bought 43 acres of oceanfront property back in 1919.<br /> “And the most recent entry will probably be photographs from David David’s wedding,” Clarke predicted.<br /> On May 23, 2015, David David, the son of Hugh David, Briny’s mayor for 36 years, married his longtime partner, Edith Behm, in the Briny clubhouse, just north of the spot where Miller’s mansion once stood.<br /> In between, the Library Ladies are archiving hundreds of snapshots, newspaper clippings and Briny minutiae.<br /> Here’s a 1937 photograph of the future town, back when it was still Ward Miller’s strawberry farm.<br /> Here’s a 1958 article from <em>The Miami Herald</em> detailing an offer for Briny’s 500 families to buy the park from Miller’s son, Paul. Selling price, $1.5 million.<br /> And here’s a joyous “Proclamation” inviting all residents to attend a ceremonial burning of the $350,000 mortgage on March 21, 1961.<br /> “I enjoy this so much,” said Dietzel. “I’m not into tracking my own family through the ages, but I think it’s nice we’re doing this for future generations.”<br /> Some of what they find is mundane. Fading snapshots of long-gone Brinyites smiling for a Kodak at social events back in the 1950s and ’60s. The men sport garish jackets, the women in white gloves and fur stoles.<br /> And some of what they find is momentous.<br /> An entire binder will house photos and memories from the 1964 hurricane season, when two storms and a freak tornado tore the park apart.<br /> First came Cleo, on Aug. 27, and then Isbell.<br /> Residents were battening down for that second storm about 5 p.m. on Wednesday, Oct. 14, when a tornado roared through the park, leaving trailers toppled and rubble behind.<br /> In October, Phyllis Boykin recounted the drama in <em>The Briny Bugle</em>:<br /> “Les and Fay Jordan were hauling down their awning. All of a sudden without warning Fay was picked up by the impetuous, rampant wind and dropped several feet away. Les grabbed her, threw her to the ground and fell on top of her, holding her immovable.<br /> “Les looked up while holding Fay and saw huge pieces of trailer flying over his head.”<br /> The Library Ladies are cataloging the photos that capture that destruction, including one of the Jordans’ lawn mower hanging atop a power pole.<br /> “I’ve never been through a hurricane,” said Gross, pondering that lawn mower, “so these are kind of scary.”<br /> Nearby, Atlee spoke up.<br /> “My grandparents bought here in 1958,” she said, “so my mother visited here when she was pregnant with me. I was coming to Briny before I was born. It’s important to preserve this.”<br /> And so, for four or five hours every Friday afternoon, the Library Ladies gather to do that.<br /> So far, they’ve gone through 11 of those 35 fading and bug-infested scrapbooks from the days of colorful sports coats, white gloves and furs.<br /> “We’ve made peace with the fact that we may not be done this summer,” Clarke said.”</p></div>Clues in the Crumbling Albumhttps://thecoastalstar.com/profiles/blogs/clues-in-the-crumbling-album2014-07-30T15:30:00.000Z2014-07-30T15:30:00.000ZMary Kate Leminghttps://thecoastalstar.com/members/MaryKateLeming769<div><p style="text-align:center;"><strong><a href="{{#staticFileLink}}7960522867,original{{/staticFileLink}}"><img class="align-center" src="{{#staticFileLink}}7960522867,original{{/staticFileLink}}" width="450" alt="7960522867?profile=original" /></a></strong><a href="{{#staticFileLink}}7960523452,original{{/staticFileLink}}"><img class="align-center" src="{{#staticFileLink}}7960523452,original{{/staticFileLink}}" width="534" alt="7960523452?profile=original" /></a>Researcher Janet DeVries channels her inner Nancy Drew to unearth the roots of a photo collection that portrays a Florida lost to time. <strong>Photos by Tim Stepien/The Coastal Star</strong></p>
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<p><strong>By Mary Thurwachter</strong><br /> <br /> In her search to learn the provenance of a century-old photo album, Janet DeVries uncovered stories of shipwrecks, sailors, suicide and a whole lot of coconut palm trees.<br /> DeVries — a historical researcher, author and president of the Boynton Beach Historical Society — calls her latest project “Clues in the Crumbling Album,” a takeoff of an old Nancy Drew title. <br /> Indeed, she found several clues on the fragile pages of the old photo book she discovered on eBay. The photographs were taken between Palm Beach and the Hillsboro Inlet and most were shot in Manalapan. <br /> “Since the images were most interesting, I hoped to learn more about the provenance,” she said. “The album is truly a gem and seems to be one of the earliest and most compelling illustrative accounts of coastal central Palm Beach County. The images portray a Florida lost to time and development and provide a glimpse into the flora and fauna of coastal Palm Beach County pre-1926 and 1928 hurricanes.” <br /> The book came to her wrapped in tissue.<br /> “It is literally falling apart,” she said. Each time she turns a page to look at a picture, paper fragments fall into her hand. She already has scanned each photo for preservation. <br /> Texas archaeologist Bob Wishoff, who grew up in Florida and sold the album to DeVries, found the photographs at an estate auction in Texas several years ago.<br /> “I realized they were pretty historically relevant and I wanted to find out who the people were,” he said. “I didn’t think I would be able to find out myself and it was important to me to sell them to someone who would appreciate their value.”</p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><a href="{{#staticFileLink}}7960523478,original{{/staticFileLink}}"><img class="align-center" src="{{#staticFileLink}}7960523478,original{{/staticFileLink}}" width="538" alt="7960523478?profile=original" /></a><em>This photo is one of two known images of the old Boynton Beach Hotel cottages. <strong>Photos courtesy of Janet DeVries</strong></em></p>
<p><br /> What initially piqued DeVries’ interest in Wishoff’s find was an image of the old Boynton Beach Hotel. That photograph, which actually was of some cottages connected to the hotel, was part of another, smaller album. While talking with Wishoff about those pages, she learned of a larger “crumbling” album and another collection of old pictures taken in Florida and other states. <br /> “The Boynton Beach Historical Society does not purchase artifacts,” she said. “The organization relies on donations. Occasionally, I purchase postcards and other ephemera with my own money to share with our (Historic Boynton Beach) Facebook fans. I like to think of it as ‘bringing these items home.’ ”<br /> The purchase was a splurge for her ($150), but her friend and fellow researcher, Ginger Pederson, encouraged DeVries to buy the book as a birthday gift to herself.<br /> “When the artifact was delivered and I touched the delicate paper, I could barely bring myself to open it,” DeVries said. <br /> “What I found inside delighted and amazed me,” she said. “Not only does it illustrate the tropical beauty of coastal Palm Beach County prior to development, it portrays aviation pioneer Glenn Curtiss in Palm Beach with his seaplane. (He would come to Florida every winter and give those who could afford it plane rides to Cuba, Bimini or just for a short trip into the wild blue yonder). There also are references to President Theodore Roosevelt and World War I.” <br /> By sharing images on Facebook, DeVries has been helped by viewers familiar with some of the locations portrayed. Eventually, she plans to donate the book to the Historical Society of Palm Beach County.</p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><a href="{{#staticFileLink}}7960522901,original{{/staticFileLink}}"><img class="align-center" src="{{#staticFileLink}}7960522901,original{{/staticFileLink}}" width="490" alt="7960522901?profile=original" /></a><em>Aviation pioneer Glenn Curtiss would fly people to Bimini and beyond in his seaplane.</em></p>
<p style="text-align:left;"><br /> <strong>What the clues revealed</strong><br /> But who are the people in the pictures? Who were the crumbling album’s original owners?<br /> DeVries, a researcher at Palm Beach State College who is working on a master’s degree in library science from Florida State University, called upon her sleuth skills to find answers.<br /> “I’ve always liked solving mysteries,” she said. “I read all the Nancy Drew books growing up. I guess it’s in my blood, too, because my great-great-grandfather was the house detective for the biggest hotel in Cleveland in the 1880s.” <br /> She has written five local history books.<br /> In the course of her research, DeVries searched historical databases and land records and spent countless hours online. She made trips to the Palm Beach County Historical Society headquarters in West Palm Beach and tapped into community knowledge via Facebook. <br /> Her initial clue was on the four pages of the first of three albums, she said. It included a photo labeled Boynton Beach Hotel Cottages. <br /> “This piqued my interest,” she said, “because I’ve only seen one other image of the cottages at the Boynton Hotel in all my time as archivist for the city of Boynton Beach and as president of the Boynton Beach Historical Society and in all my research and collecting. The hotel was torn down in 1925, though some of the cottages remained.”<br /> Other images labeled “Manalapan” followed by notations such as “walk to dock” and “boat house” and “lake side view” led her to believe the home was located between the ocean and Lake Worth, which now is part of the Intracoastal Waterway. <br /> A few images — labeled “Hillsboro Light,” “Canal to Delray” and “Dinner Stop at Lake Worth” — convinced her these were local images and that the people in the pictures lived here.<br /> The names appearing on the pages were unusual — Madeleine, Romey and Leila, DeVries said.<br /> “This combined with the term Manalapan cemented the deal that the family was the Piersons, and the home pictured within the crumbling albums was the 1894 structure built by Elnathan T. Field of Manalapan, N.J.” <br /> She noted pictures of a coconut grove and read about pioneer George Charter (one of the barefoot mailmen) planting the coconuts. <br /> “The story really became enchanting,” she said.</p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><a href="{{#staticFileLink}}7960523091,original{{/staticFileLink}}"><img class="align-center" src="{{#staticFileLink}}7960523091,original{{/staticFileLink}}" width="517" alt="7960523091?profile=original" /></a><em>The Pierson family bought this house north of Boynton Inlet in Manalapan in 1912. It was torn down by developers in 2000.</em></p>
<p style="text-align:left;"><br /> “Some of the images were mystifying,” DeVries said, “especially the one of the house with what appeared to be a cistern. <br /> “Fans of our Facebook page, Historic Boynton Beach, provided additional clues as I posted images. Several people said the water tower in the picture was along A1A north of the inlet. This confirmed what I already suspected. With each photo I posted, more fans chimed in with memories of the old A1A (mostly washed out in 1947) and even the stretch of the beach that is north of the Boynton Inlet.”<br /> DeVries tracked down the entire line of Pierson descendants, including granddaughter Nancy Pierson Sands Tilton, who died around 2000. There is a great-grandson living in Texas.</p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><a href="{{#staticFileLink}}7960523680,original{{/staticFileLink}}"><img class="align-center" src="{{#staticFileLink}}7960523680,original{{/staticFileLink}}" width="210" alt="7960523680?profile=original" /></a><em>A woman, likely Leila Pierson, leans against a coconut palm in this photograph from the album Janet DeVries purchased.</em></p>
<p style="text-align:left;"><br /> <strong>Shipwrecks, sailors</strong> <br /> <strong>and suicide</strong><br /> The Piersons, of New York and New Jersey, bought the house at 1780 S. Ocean Ave. in Manalapan in 1912, according to a 1933 story in which Leila Pierson was interviewed in <em>The Palm Beach Post</em>.<br /> There were two known owners before them. One of them was George Charter, a barefoot mailman. He and his brother built a hunting shack on the property, then 126 acres along 2 1/2 miles of ocean ridge in what now is Manalapan), with timber — the remains of a shipwreck — they scavenged on the beach.<br /> “Charter planted all those (several thousand) coconuts after the wreck of the Providencia,” DeVries said.</p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><a href="{{#staticFileLink}}7960524083,original{{/staticFileLink}}"><img class="align-center" src="{{#staticFileLink}}7960524083,original{{/staticFileLink}}" width="202" alt="7960524083?profile=original" /></a><em>Palms were planted from coconuts that spilled from the wreck of the Providencia.</em></p>
<p style="text-align:left;"><br /> But besides coconuts, the bodies of two sailors washed ashore from the wreck. The Charters buried them beside the sea, according to Leila Pierson’s account. <br /> Between Charter and the Piersons, the property belonged to Elnathan T. Field, who built the house on a bluff 15-25 feet above the ocean. Field came from Manalapan, N.J., and named the house on stilts “Manalapan Cottage” after a New Jersey Indian tribe. Manalapan is an Indian word for “pleasant waters.”<br /> The Piersons weren’t immune to tragedy.<br /> “A. Romeyn Pierson Sr. and his daughter, Dorothy, both died of the deadly 1918-19 fever,” DeVries found. “And the son, A. Romeyn Pierson, died of alcoholism in 1929.” The Piersons left the property to their granddaughter, Nancy Tilton, who sold it off gradually. In 2000, after Tilton’s death, a developer razed the house.<br /> But while Mrs. Tilton was still living in the house, one of her houseguests made headlines when, in 1977, he killed himself with a 20-gauge shotgun. The man, a Russian-born French teacher, was an associate of Lee Harvey Oswald and a crucial witness in the congressional investigation of the assassination of President John F. Kennedy.</p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><a href="{{#staticFileLink}}7960524097,original{{/staticFileLink}}"><img class="align-center" src="{{#staticFileLink}}7960524097,original{{/staticFileLink}}" width="213" alt="7960524097?profile=original" /></a><em>State Road A1A ran directly along the beach in the early part of the 20th century. It mostly washed out in 1947.</em></p>
<p style="text-align:left;"><br /> <strong>Every picture tells a story</strong><br /> “The discovery of this old album was a little like paradise found for me,” DeVries said. “I encourage people to keep or donate old photos rather than tossing them. Every picture tells a story.” <br /> DeVries, a newlywed who lives in Lantana, is still uncovering stories. That’s what happens when you’re a historical researcher, after all. The more you dig, the more you find. <br /> In this case, she found a historical treasure. ;<br /> <em> To reach DeVries, email boyntonhistory@gmail.com. Her history blog is found at <a href="http://www.boyntonhistory.org/author/jdevries/">www.boyntonhistory.org/author/jdevries/</a>.</em></p></div>Along the Coast: Guides to the past move on into new futureshttps://thecoastalstar.com/profiles/blogs/along-the-coast-guides-to-the-past-move-on-into-new-futures2012-10-31T19:30:00.000Z2012-10-31T19:30:00.000ZMary Kate Leminghttps://thecoastalstar.com/members/MaryKateLeming769<div><p><strong>By Rich Pollack</strong><br /> <br /> Two women who have been instrumental in creating historical archives in Boynton Beach and Delray Beach are, or soon will be ... well, history themselves.</p>
<p><a href="{{#staticFileLink}}7960406894,original{{/staticFileLink}}"><img class="align-center" src="{{#staticFileLink}}7960406894,original{{/staticFileLink}}" width="290" alt="7960406894?profile=original" /></a></p>
<p style="text-align:center;">DeVries</p>
<p><br /> Last month, Boynton Beach’s historical archivist Janet DeVries left her job at the Boynton Beach City Library to become the archivist at Palm Beach State College’s Harold C. Manor library. And next month, Dottie Patterson, the Delray Beach Historical Society’s longtime archivist, will be retiring after more than two decades in the job.</p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><a href="{{#staticFileLink}}7960407856,original{{/staticFileLink}}"><img class="align-center" src="{{#staticFileLink}}7960407856,original{{/staticFileLink}}" width="538" alt="7960407856?profile=original" /></a> Patterson</p>
<p><br /> “They together and individually have done wonderful things for the promotion of local history and the scholarship of history in southern Palm Beach County,” said Susan Gillis, archivist for the Boca Raton Historical Society and a close associate of both Patterson and DeVries. “They were my go-to gals, and I will miss the ease of contacting them when I have a question that no one else can answer.”<br /> Both Patterson, who served as the historical archivist for 22 years, and DeVries, who held her job for 15 years, were instrumental in creating professional archives in their respective communities. <br /> Today, those archives serve as critical resources for everyone from journalists and architects to visitors or callers from out of state who want to learn more about a long-lost relative who lived and died in South Florida. <br /> Recognizing the importance of maintaining an easily accessible collection of historical information and artifacts, both the Delray Beach Historical Society and the Boynton Beach Library have begun searching for replacements. <br /> The Delray Beach Historical Society has hopes of having someone on board by the end of the month to work with Patterson before she retires, according to Howard Ellingsworth, a member of the nonprofit organization’s board, who is helping to lead the search. <br /> Ellingsworth said the historical society’s goal is to find an archivist who will also be able to take on additional responsibilities and serve as the organization’s director as well. Due to financial constraints, the position would remain part-time. <br /> In Boynton Beach, Library Director Craig Clark says plans are in the works to fill the archivist position by early next year. One of the priorities for the new archivist, he said, will be to follow through on DeVries’ efforts to electronically categorize artifacts so they’ll be easier to locate.<br /> “The archivist is a very unique position for our library,” Clark said. “We’ve been fortunate enough to have a position to preserve and care for our artifacts.”<br /> But that position didn’t always exist.<br /> When DeVries was first hired by the library, the archive was little more than a small, dank space just a little bigger than a closet, called the Florida room.<br /> “You could easily trip over boxes on the floor,” she said.<br /> Sorting through the old papers and unidentified objects took her some time, but eventually the archives at the library were transformed into a three-room professional environment with photographs and important papers carefully stored in plastic sleeves and binders. <br /> “The archive is a fabulous resource for the community,” said DeVries, who remains active in the Boynton Beach Historical Society. The author of five books on the history of the city, DeVries says she plans to continue using the archives for her research. <br /> Like DeVries, Patterson is a history detective of sorts who enjoys combing through old books and photos and helping others find information they’re searching for. <br /> And like her counterpart in Boynton, whose nomination letter helped her win Florida archivist of the year in 2009, Patterson is passionate about history and about making sure it is preserved for future generations. <br /> “The reason I’ve stayed so long is I love working here,” she said.<br /> Over the years, Patterson has seen the archives grow from a walk-in closet to filling a rescued house on Swinton Avenue and Northeast First Street, now known as the Ethel Williams Archives. <br /> She has been on hand to open several rediscovered time capsules, including one dating back to 1924, and has been around to help everyone from city officials to reporters find information they need. <br /> “Dottie has been the epitome of someone whose heart and soul is into what she’s doing,” Ellingsworth said. “She has been a real godsend to the Delray Beach Historical Society.” <br /> DeVries said both she and Patterson were “lone rangers,” often working independently, who were fueled by their desire to share the pasts of their respective towns with those who wanted to know more. <br /> “One of our jobs is to lead people to treasures,” DeVries said. “We act as tour guides and educators.” <br /> <br /></p></div>Boynton Beach: Hidden history of city’s founding brought to lighthttps://thecoastalstar.com/profiles/blogs/boynton-beach-hidden-history-of-city-s-founding-brought-to-light2012-10-31T18:00:00.000Z2012-10-31T18:00:00.000ZDeborah Hartz-Seeleyhttps://thecoastalstar.com/members/DeborahHartzSeeley<div><p><span><b> </b></span></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><a href="{{#staticFileLink}}7960410076,original{{/staticFileLink}}"><img src="{{#staticFileLink}}7960410076,original{{/staticFileLink}}" class="align-center" width="360" alt="7960410076?profile=original" /></a>Janet DeVries (left) and Ginger L. Pedersen hold a copy<br /> of the book they wrote, <i>Pioneering Palm Beach</i>. </p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><span><b>Tim Stepien/The Coastal Star</b></span></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><span><b> </b></span></p>
<p><span><b>By Ron Hayes</b></span></p>
<p></p>
<p>How does “Birdie Beach” sound to you?</p>
<p>Welcome to the city of Birdie Beach, Gateway to the Gulf Stream.</p>
<p>Call up the official Boynton Beach website and you’ll learn that “Major Nathan S. Boynton, a native of Michigan who distinguished himself in the Civil War, founded the city … Boynton directed the construction of the Boynton Beach Hotel from 1895 to 1897. He and his workmen, recruited from Michigan, brought their families and settled in the new town of Boynton. With other settlers …” And so on.</p>
<p>Among those early settlers were Frederick and Lillie Pierce Voss, whose great-grandson, Harvey Oyer III, knows the story well. Boynton Beach history is also Oyer family history.</p>
<p>“So went the story I grew up hearing and, like others, have passed along ever since,” Oyer writes in the foreword to <i>Pioneering Palm Beach</i>, by Ginger L. Pedersen and Janet DeVries.</p>
<p>“However, there was a problem with this story. It was not entirely correct. Major Boynton was not the person who platted the little town that today bears his name.”</p>
<p>Before Boynton, there was Birdie.</p>
<p>The 160 acres of land that grew to become Boynton Beach was first owned and platted by a pioneering journalist, short-story writer, environmentalist and intrepid land speculator from Nicholasville, Ky., named Byrd Spilman Dewey.</p>
<p><span class="Apple-tab-span"><a href="{{#staticFileLink}}7960410271,original{{/staticFileLink}}"><img src="{{#staticFileLink}}7960410271,original{{/staticFileLink}}" class="align-center" width="245" alt="7960410271?profile=original" /></a></span>Plug that name into the city’s online search engine and you won’t find her. But local historians Pedersen and DeVries have.</p>
<p>“In May 2011, I was at the county courthouse, trying to figure out exactly where Major Boynton’s hotel had been,” recalled Pedersen, the dean of curriculum and educational technology at Palm Beach State College. “I pulled the tract for area 27-28, which is Federal Highway east, and when I looked at the properties, all I saw was the name Dewey, over and over. Birdie Dewey.”</p>
<p>Pedersen emailed her friend, historian and former Boynton Beach City Library archivist Janet DeVries.</p>
<p>“Who the heck is Birdie Dewey?”</p>
<p>DeVries had heard the name.</p>
<p>“She wrote children’s books.”</p>
<p>“That’s interesting,” Pedersen said. And so began a search that took them to Miami and St. Augustine, Eustis, Jacksonville and the National Archives in Washington, D.C.</p>
<p><a href="{{#staticFileLink}}7960410284,original{{/staticFileLink}}"><img width="281" src="{{#staticFileLink}}7960410284,original{{/staticFileLink}}" class="align-center" alt="7960410284?profile=original" /></a></p>
<p style="text-align:center;">Birdie Spilman Dewey wrote children’s books and<br /> was an early pioneer of Boynton Beach. <b>Photo provided</b></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><b> </b></p>
<p>Along the way, they found Birdie.</p>
<p>“Her only child, Elizabeth, died in infancy,” says DeVries, “so it’s hidden history that’s been buried for a hundred years.”</p>
<p>Born Feb. 16, 1856, Birdie Spilman was a grandniece of President Zachary Taylor.</p>
<p>Her husband, Fred Dewey, was a cousin of Adm. George Dewey.</p>
<p>In 1881, the Deweys left their Salem, Ill., home and came by train to Zellwood, northwest of Orlando, where they built a home on 20 acres. Later, they moved to Eustis, where Dewey Street still recalls the site of their cottage. In Jacksonville, they lived on Monroe and Mattie streets. And then, in 1887, the couple came south and left their footprints all over this area.</p>
<p>In 1892, Birdie Dewey bought 160 acres in what is now Boynton Beach — 40 in the original town site and another 80 along the Intracoastal Waterway. Three years later, she sold 120 of those acres to William Linton for $6,000.</p>
<p>Linton then sold 40 of his acres to Maj. Boynton. But he had paid only $100 down. Linton had a contract, but no deed. He defaulted, Birdie foreclosed, and in 1897 the land was hers again.</p>
<p>The next year, she platted the land.</p>
<p>“If you read the early accounts,” Pedersen noted, “they always say the town was named after Major Boynton, not founded by him.”</p>
<p>When she wasn’t buying Florida by the acre, Birdie Dewey was writing about it.</p>
<p>In 1899, her novel <i>Bruno</i> was published, based on the couple’s first year in Eustis as seen through the eyes of their dog. It stayed in print for more than 20 years and sold 100,000 copies.</p>
<p>In 1909, she fictionalized her time in West Palm Beach in <i>From Pine Woods To Palm Groves</i>, serialized in the <i>Florida Review</i>. Pedersen and DeVries found a rare copy in the Jacksonville Public Library.</p>
<p>She wrote for <i>The Tropical Sun</i>, West Palm’s first newspaper, and national magazines such as <i>Good Housekeeping</i>.</p>
<p>The Deweys left Boynton for Palm Beach in 1911, but Birdie didn’t sell her last bit of Boynton real estate until 1925, when she’d moved on to Winter Park and become the field secretary for the Florida Audubon Society.</p>
<p>Byrd Spilman Dewey died in Jacksonville on April 1, 1942. She was 86, and lived in a little cottage on Home Street.</p>
<p>“It’s ironic,” Pedersen said, “because in her writings, she always capitalized the word <i>home</i>, as if it were her concept of heaven or something.”</p>
<p>In her will, she asked to be cremated and her ashes scattered from the pier of The Breakers hotel in Palm Beach.</p>
<p>Her surviving sister, Anna Louise Spilman, buried her in Jacksonville’s Greenlawn Cemetery, in an unmarked grave near her brother and infant daughter.</p>
<p>Earlier this year, Pedersen and DeVries had a gravestone placed on the spot.</p>
<p><i>BYRD SPILMAN DEWEY</i></p>
<p><i>1856-1942</i></p>
<p><i>I am HOME</i></p>
<p>This year, on Feb. 16, the 156th anniversary of her birth, they burned a copy of one of her stories and scattered the ashes from the beach behind The Breakers hotel. <span>Ú</span></p>
<p></p>
<p>Pioneering Palm Beach: The Deweys and the South Florida Frontier <i>is available at Barnes & Noble bookstores and amazon.com. For more information, visit <a href="http://www.byrdspilmandewey.com">www.byrdspilmandewey.com</a>.</i></p>
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