'Have we got a deal for you,' Spain told the United States. And were they ever right.
A little over 200 years ago, a very young America snapped up an opportunity to expand its territory. And the rest, as they say, is history
As a native Floridian, I’m intrigued by the history of my home state, especially how it was settled.
In researching my most recent column for Florida Weekly, I stumbled across this bit of Gunshine State trivia that I thought I would share. It deals with one of the greatest real estate deals of all time.
It was Feb. 22, 1819, and Spain had decided to put the entire state of Florida on the market. Ever alert to good business deals, the United States of America snapped it up. The price tag: $5 million. That’s less than you’d pay for a beachfront home in most places these days.
It is unknown who among the more than 200,000 real estate agents in Florida got the commission for that sale. Oh, wait, they weren’t here yet. But they would flock down soon enough once word got out about the great bargains to be had on swampland.
What many people may not realize is that Florida, not Plymouth Rock, was the first part of the United States to be settled by Europeans. Those early pioneers were enjoying our beaches and hurricanes long before the Mayflower landed.
But they weren’t the first actual human beings to arrive. Paleo-Indians began trekking to this peninsula 14,000 years ago. They were here long before the Egyptian pyramids were built, thousands of years earlier than the birth of Christ, and certainly before Juan Ponce de Leon showed up in 1513 in search of the Fountain of Youth.
It was Ponce who gave the state its name. He arrived during the Easter holiday and named it after the season’s Festival of Flowers, Pascua Florida.
(The indigenous people of Florida, the Calusas, weren’t consulted. Annoyed, they rewarded Ponce de Leon by fatally shooting him with a poisoned arrow.)
By the early 19th century, Americans — the first snowbirds — were migrating here, so the Spaniards figured it was time to sell while demand was high. And it wasn’t long thereafter before the landscape became littered with roadside motels and tourist traps selling seashells, shark teeth and baby gator heads.
As I noted in my column, one of those early tourists, historians imagine, spotted a pond full of alligators, and decided to swim across.
“Hold my beer,” he told his friend.
Thus, was born the legend of Florida Man.
And it all began two centuries ago this week.
There are many other events to be celebrated in the week ahead including National Margaria Day, National Pink Shirt Day, and the ever-popular Hoodie Hoo Day. I’ve got details on all that and more in this week’s column. As a subscriber, you get early notice as the newspaper rolls off the presses, and you can see the column in its entirety here:
J.C. Bruce is a journalist and author of The Strange Files series of mysterious novels (available on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, other online booksellers, and at selected libraries). He holds dual citizenship in the United States of America and Florida. His latest novel, Strange Timing, was recently named Book of the Year in the Royal Palm Literary Awards where it also won Gold Medals in the Sci-Fi and Thriller categories. When he’s not writing, he’s in training for the World Underwater Ping-Pong Championships.
Sponsored by TROPIC PRESS, publisher of The Strange Files Series of Mysterious Adventures.
