Celebrate Englewood

Who are We?
Where are we now?
Who Takes Care of Us?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Our sole epitaph is a metal sign amongst the overgrowth and weeds that bear the true testament of the living to our forgotten souls.  Even the rotting wooden monuments intended as a remembrance to mark the passing of those that joined us after our stay became an eternity now slowly share that destiny.

Do you know who we were?
Do you know where we can be found?
Do you know who our caretaker is?

. . . do you care to know?
 

November's Clue:

Who am I?
Where Was I Built?

 

Where am I Now?
Who Painted my Portrait?

Ah, the RoaringTwenties – what a time we had.  The two gentlemen who built me must have wanted to continue the tradition of Englewood as a small drinking village with a fishing problem - even during the years of prohibition.  We had dining and dancing, a piano player and, on special occasions, an orchestra.

The music stopped along with the land boom and things were quiet for a while until a Mr. Anderson came along and traded in the bootleg whiskey and slot machines for fish, making me into what was known as the "Lemon Bay Fisheries" until 1936.

Mr. Pate and his two sons bought me and took me apart piece by piece and built me where I am today, and where you can come by and visit, if you can find where I am.  

Do you know who am I?
Do you know where I was first built?
Do you know where I am now?
Do you know who painted my portrait?

 

October's Clue 

Who am I?

 

Where am I now?
When was I Put Here?

For a time after the man from Sweden built me I sat empty – but since then I have played host to many people - everything from a group of nudists to poets, composers, and a sculptor.

 

 

 

 

 

We got our name not from some of the inhabitants that peek out from time to time from the dunes, but from Giles, who would have just as much preferred that no one came around.   But you can come and visit, maybe even stay awhile if you can find us.

Do you know who am I?
Do you know where I am?
Do you know when I was built – and when Otto bought the land next door and added it to our menagerie?

September's Clue

A lot of water has passed under the docks, so to speak, since when I first came to be here, and a lot has happened, like the time Sam added Chico, the African green monkey to his menagerie he always kept around this place.  If Chico liked you, she would stroke your hair.  If not, well, she let you know. 

On Sam’s 100th birthday I was honored to be placed on the National Register of Historic Places.  You can stop by and see why, and to visit the museum here where the Red Gill used to be, if you know what channel marker to follow to get here.

Do you know who am I?
Do you know where I am and how to get here by boat?
Do you know when I was built – and when Sam bought the land (and water) where I am now standing?

August's Clue: Who am I? Where am I now? When did I move here?

I am the sole survivor of a small group of my kind built during a time rich in history, when early settlers came to sell and transport fish in what is known in Spanish, then and now, as the "Peaceful Place".  Several families called me home.  I have also served as a school, a post office and an early church. 

My original location was merely a dot on the map until the "Cold, Hungry & Naked" Railroad built me over 101 years ago. 

To protect me from demolition, I was moved to my present location, where the railroad used to come through, and where you can come today and visit me, along with the other folks who walk past me every day, coming to celebrate our pioneer past.

July's Clue: Who am I? Where am I now? When did I move here?

No, I am not related to a gingerbread house and when I was first built in the 1920s we didn’t bake or cook anything much – although we had plenty of Bunsen burners if we wanted to fry up some of the fish and other things that were brought to me to study when I used to be in New Point Comfort. 

That was before we closed shop in 1934, when the man who built me in such an unusual way (which is how I got my name) passed away.   Now I have a different place I call home. 

You’re welcome to come by and visit if you know where I am.  If you do you can still see many of the things we use to study in my younger days, back in New Point Comfort.

Do you know who I am, where I am, and when I moved here?
 

June's Clue: Who am I? Where am I now? When did I move here?

They say the eyes are the windows of the soul.  These have seen quite a bit since I first started up here in Englewood over 93 years ago.  Much has changed since then.  I started out at a one-room schoolhouse that burned down, and then moved in with the nice ladies in the neighborhood ‘til some volunteers pitched in and built my new home – for just $1250.  

I had to move one last time to where I am now.

You’re welcome to come by and visit if you know where I am.  If you do I can tell you a lot more about Englewood.

Do you know who I am, where I am, and when I moved here?
 

May's Clue: Where am I?

She who left me here said she could see better now that she was blind.  But then again, rocks and trees used to talk to her, too, so what kind of sense does that make?  In fact, she thought the more trees the better, especially palm trees at 5 bucks each.

She is gone now, leaving behind Mr. and Mrs. Pine Tree, an apple tree and others from Tall Timbers scattered all over in places like the Metropolitan Museum of Art, and even the Smithsonian. 

But I am right here. 
Do you know who she was?                        
How about where I am?