Let’s call the place the Place

Last month, the city of Key West began working on improvements to the public area bounded by Front, Greene and Whitehead streets in front of the Custom House, one of our grandest and most important public buildings (and now an excellent museum run by the Key West Art & Historical Society). Today, the Citizen ran a photo by Rob O’Neal showing the area scraped clean, the obelisk at the center wrapped up.

I’m very glad this historically important area is getting attention - especially the obelisk, which was erected by the Key West Navy Club in 1866, dedicated to Union soldiers and sailors who died here during the Civil War (almost all of them of yellow fever). More on that below.

But here’s the thing - all the city releases and press coverage and I’m afraid to think of how many official documents refer to this area as Clinton Square. But that’s not its name. It’s Clinton Place.

If you doubt me, I refer you to “Key West: The Old And The New” by Jefferson B. Browne, the 1912 book considered Key West’s first comprehensive history. On page 52, he details how different streets and sites were named, including “‘Clinton Place’ after DeWitt Clinton of New York.” Referring to the dedication of the obelisk on page 62, he refers to it as “Clinton Place, the small triangular plot at the intersection of Front, Whitehead and Greene Streets… ”

Today In Keys history column, produced by the Monroe County Public Library’s Florida Keys History Center, as it appeared in the Key West Citizen on July 25, 2024.

“Triangular” is the key word here. Besides not being its actual name, “Clinton Square” is an embarrassing error of basic kindergarten-level geometry. When the state acquired the Custom House in the early 1990s and the Art & Historical Society took on the restoration, then-Executive Director Susan Olsen pointed this out to me: It’s not a square. It’s a triangle.

This may seem like a small nitpick, but facts matter. This is true in journalism and it’s true in history. We are a place that purportedly cares a lot about our history and for good reason. For a small island with a relatively small population, a lot of interesting stuff has gone down here. Our small size and geographic isolation helped keep a lot of the historic fabric intact and now it’s a major component of our multi-billion-dollar tourism and real estate economies. It matters on many levels.

And Clinton Place is, perhaps, the best examplar of Key West’s strange and interesting history when it comes to the Civil War and how it’s memorialized. We’re in Florida, the third state to secede, and the island was home to many enslavers (including U.S. Senator-turned-Confederate Naval Secretary Stephen Mallory, whose mother’s boarding house was also in that neighborhood - but who was not, it turns out, the person for whom Mallory Square was named). Key West stayed in Union hands because an enterprising Army captain occupied still-under-construction Fort Taylor soon after secession but there were a lot of Confederate sympathizers in the local population. And in the 1920s, at the height of Jim Crow, when many notable citizens were in the Klan, the United Daughters of the Confederacy put up a pavilion in Bayview Park, with full honors from the mayor and local dignitaries.

In the 1930s, the state of New York donated a memorial nearby, to honor the dozens of soldiers who were stationed here and died of aforesaid yellow fever. That pavilion has recently been renamed with the city’s official motto, One Human Family. And in 2016, the city added a statue honoring the Black Union soldiers recruited here, right in front of the pavilion.

Clinton Place in 2015. Photo by Nancy Klingener

Clinton Place might have the most interesting memorial evidence of all, though. That obelisk, memorializing the Union troops who died here is surrounded by a low fence with a plaque proudly claiming that it was “ERECTED BY J.V. HARRIS, CONFEDERATE VETERAN.”

Just as the Stephen Mallory Chapter of the United Daughters of the Confederacy is still engraved at the base of the One Human Family pavilion at Bayview Park, I hope that fence and its plaque also remain through the improvements to Clinton Place.

Just like Clinton Place’s real name, the real history of Key West’s role in the Union victory - and the backlash afterwards - is part of our island’s history and our residents and visitors deserve to know the truth.

Here are a couple more images of Clinton Place from the Florida Keys History Center’s photo archive, just because they’re cool.

Clinton Place in front of Custom House ca. 1918. The Heritage House Collection, donated by the Campbell, Poirier and Pound families. Monroe County Public Library, Florida Keys History Center.

Custom House on postcard by Frank Johnson, Key West. The DeWolfe and Wood Collection. Monroe County Public Library, Florida Keys History Center.

Podcast of the week: 99% Invisible

After last week's old school recommendation -- a compilation of BBC World Service reporting -- this week we're going to turn to one of the hottest new podcasts on the interwebs. 99% Invisible is a model for the new mode of podcast production. It isn't distributed as a radio show, though stations are more than welcome to buy episodes and air them. It has been supported and expanded by several Kickstarter campaigns. And it uses nontraditional editing and sound design to tell its stories, while keeping them immensely appealing and comprehensible.

The show describes itself as being "about design, architecture and the 99% invisible activity that shapes our world." In practice, this has hugely broad interpretations. So it's not a show about people who draw, say, buildings or chairs (though those certainly qualify) -- it's a show about how humans interact with and shape our environments. History comes into it a lot -- host Roman Mars has a special affinity for plaques, which I love. The most recent episode, Good Bread, tells the story of Wonder Bread and white bread in general ... revealing a lot about American social history in the 20th century. Some other episodes I particularly enjoyed: Castle on the Park, about a former cancer hospital in a grand building right on Central Park, and Monumental Dilemma, where I learned the story of Hannah Duston, a Haverhill woman who was captured by Native Americans and escaped ... after killing her captors.

99% Invisible is the flagship show for a PRX initiative called Radiotopia -- which is currently conducting a Kickstarter campaign that has already exceeded its goal ... but is worth supporting anyway, even with a tiny contribution, just to show the breadth of support for the radio revolution.

If you don't already listen to podcasts, the easiest way to do so is via a podcast app on your smartphone. If you don't have a smartphone or don't want to do that, you can subscribe via iTunes or Soundcloud -- or just go to an individual podcast's website and listen there.

Previous recommendations:

 

 

Getting ready for 09

The 20King Philip, or Metacom, as engraved by Paul Revere09 Key West Literary Seminar is looking back -- specifically at historical fiction with some history thrown in. One of the historians we've invited is Jill Lepore and I just finished reading her book The Name of War, about King Philip's War and how it has been recorded and interpreted in American history. Sadly, I managed to grow up and receive an alleged education in New England and still had no clear idea what King Philip's War was until I read "Mayflower" by Nathaniel Philbrick last year. I thought it was one of the French and Indian Wars, since they're named after royalty. Oops.

Philbrick's book takes King Philip's War as a kind of coda to the initial landing and establishment of the Plymouth Colony (it was Philip's father, Massasoit, who made the initial contact and alliance with the English settlers, to the Native Americans' later regret and dismay). It's popular history, written with the layperson in mind. Lepore's is more academic but still very accessible. And it's really interesting on the whole issue of who controls the narrative of history, from the English settlers who initially wrote vivid accounts of the carnage -- to help justify sending Native Americans to slavery and death -- to the early 19th century Americans who staged an overwrought play called "Metamora," starring Philip as a sort of proto-Revolutionary American.

Interesting stuff. And since I'm finally about to return this book to the Monroe County Library, others can check it out.