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By Vickie Oldham, Newtown Alive
5
22 ratings
The podcast currently has 18 episodes available.
Sheila Sanders has a sweet smile but
don’t mistake it for weakness. She organized a boycott of the Sarasota Federal
Bank as a third grader at Booker Elementary School. At that time, her class
learned money management by filling out savings deposit slips for their
pennies, dimes and nickels, but the students could not take tours of the bank
as children from other schools did. Sanders persuaded her classmates to send
deposits to Palmer Bank where they could tour. Her actions foreshadowed
future activism. The teenager proactively participated in the NAACP
accompanying leaders John Rivers and Maxine Mays to local and state meetings. In
high school, Sanders learned about the political process by reviewing the agenda
of school board meetings and attended the meetings by taking the city bus.
“Some things won’t be said just because you’re sitting there.”
Sanders, William “Flick” Jackson and
John Rivers joined Dr. Edward E. James II as plaintiffs in a lawsuit against
the City of Sarasota. They successfully pushed for single member district
voting that opened the way for African American representation on the Sarasota
City Commission.
The memory of Sarasota Mayor Willie
Charles Shaw is razor sharp.
He was reared in “Black
Bottom,” a swampy land in Newtown near Maple, Palmadelia and Goodrich Avenues.
There were no streetlights or curbside mail delivery. Overtown had its own
neighborhood with the same name because of its rich black soil. Shaw can
quickly rattle off the locations of community landmarks, dirt paths, swimming
holes, citrus trees and bus routes; and the names of neighbors. Newtown’s dusty
roads were paved in 1968, but the first paved streets followed the route of the
city transit bus. His grandmother and family members owned land along Orange
Avenue and 31st Street. When there was a death in the neighborhood, Mrs.
Herring, Fannie McDugle, and Mrs. James formed an unofficial neighborhood
association with Mrs. Viola Sanders at the helm. The women collected food and
flowers for grieving families. Shaw’s mother sewed a heart or a ribbon on the
right sleeve of the bereaved.
The retired letter carrier attended
the Booker schools with teachers Barbara Wiggins, Mrs. McGreen, Prevell Carner
Barber, Aravia Bennet Johnson, Foster Paulk, Esther Dailey, Coach Dailey, Janie
Poe, and Turner Covington. “I would have to say that the entire learning
experience at Booker groomed me into a leader. We were taught that you always
had to be better, do better. You had to.”
Shaw was among the African American
students who traveled on a bus across the Skyway Bridge to attend Gibbs Junior
College. He served in the U.S. Air Force, then became a letter carrier
following in the footsteps of Jerome Stephens, the first African American in
Sarasota hired by the postal service.
At age eight, Mary’s family moved to
unit #10 in a public housing complex in Newtown. The differences between
conditions in Overtown where they lived before, and the new complex were like
night and day.
The new apartment had a
bathroom, electricity, a yard with grass, and sidewalks. Before that, their
shotgun house had no running water. They pumped water for bathing, washing
dishes and laundry. There were three tubs to wash, rinse garments, and
rinse again. Before Clorox, a boil pot whitened clothes. An outhouse 15 feet
from the house was used. A portable oil stove was the major kitchen appliance
and kerosene lamps provided light. An imaginary boundary line kept
community children from veering past 10th Street. Simmons only ventured across
the line to grocery shop with her grandmother. “We would walk down Main Street
and smell peanuts in the five-and-dime store. I remember asking, ‘Granny can I
have an ice cream cone.’ She said, ‘sit here.’ I sat on the curb. I never
forgot the place, Oleander’s. Granny went in, got it, and brought it outside. I
looked at her, looked at the cone, looked at the people sitting inside. But you
didn’t ask adults questions. You just did as you were told.”
Sheila Sanders has a sweet smile but
don’t mistake it for weakness. She organized a boycott of the Sarasota Federal
Bank as a third grader at Booker Elementary School. At that time, her class
learned money management by filling out savings deposit slips for their
pennies, dimes and nickels, but the students could not take tours of the bank
as children from other schools did. Sanders persuaded her classmates to send
deposits to Palmer Bank where they could tour. Her actions foreshadowed
future activism. The teenager proactively participated in the NAACP
accompanying leaders John Rivers and Maxine Mays to local and state meetings. In
high school, Sanders learned about the political process by reviewing the agenda
of school board meetings and attended the meetings by taking the city bus.
“Some things won’t be said just because you’re sitting there.”
Sanders, William “Flick” Jackson and
John Rivers joined Dr. Edward E. James II as plaintiffs in a lawsuit against
the City of Sarasota. They successfully pushed for single member district
voting that opened the way for African American representation on the Sarasota
City Commission.
As an African American public health
nurse, the late Gwendolyn Atkins spent a lifetime healing bruises in the
community.
For nearly three decades, retired
nurse Gwen Atkins walked door to door in Newtown neighborhoods, public housing
areas and in migrant camps teaching young mothers about childcare, treating
childhood diseases, monitoring the health of aging residents and making sure
seasonal workers received medical services. She set up a makeshift clinic in
the garage of Stephens Funeral Home. “We’d treat impetigo and ring worms. She
became extended family members of their patients.
The line between work and play often
blurred. Nursing and being on call, accessible and always available was a way
of life. “If I had to do it all over again, I would choose public health
nursing and I would choose serving my community. That’s what I love more than
anything else,” Atkins said.
Estella Moore-Thomas owned Moore's Grocers when Black residents couldn’t shop at Publix and Winn Dixie. The Newtown business that still bears the family’s name supplied the community with groceries and fresh produce. Before Moore’s, Thomas rented a store in the building once occupied by Eddy’s Fruit Stand. Harriet D. Moore, her daughter, helped operate the store. “We were one of the few stores that gave credit to people,” Harriet chimed.
Moore grew up in Sidell, Florida located 50 miles east of Sarasota in a turpentine camp. The home remedies used to treat illnesses consisted of turpentine, Epsom salt, castor oil and cobwebs. “When I came here, we didn’t have electricity. I opened the door of the refrigerator and the lamp fell and broke. Right there, just cut it to the bone. They filled it up with cobwebs. No stitches or nothing. No doctors, but I lived through it.”
The elder Moore didn't finish high school because the responsibility of helping at home as a teenager stood in the way, but she made sure her children received the best education. Harriet earned a doctorate degree and was the Sarasota County School district's Director of Innovation and Equity. “The way that it used to be, I miss rallying around people who didn’t have and making sure that nobody went hungry around here.”
The late Elder Willie Mayes was
proud of the family church that began in his parent’s home with six members. He
began pastoring New Zion Primitive Baptist Church in 1984 and operated a cement
finishing business for 45 years.
The company is among the
oldest Black owned enterprises in Sarasota. At age 14, he stopped attending
school to help his family make ends meet financially. Mayes earned meager wages
doing farm work in Fruitville near where the family lived. Children in the
settlement of approximately 50 residents attended school in a little church. The
people walked a quarter of a mile to pump water for daily use. In 1944, the
family moved to Newtown where Mango Avenue is situated between Highway 301 and
the railroad tracks near the city dump. “The smoke bothered us for years. We
stayed in the house most of the time to escape that smoke.,” Mayes said. His
sister Rosa Lee Thomas believes their neighbors on Mango died as a result of
the fumes. She keeps a record of their names as a memorial. An unforgettable
moment in Thomas’ life was being chosen the 10th grade attendant of Miss Booker
High School with another attendant Willie Mae (Blake) Sheffield.
The late Dr. Thomas Clyburn remembered
hearing the sound of his patent leather loafers on the floor of a Blue Bird bus
while stepping out of his seat and walking down the aisle to the front, then
down the steps on the first day of school in 11th grade. The setting was unfamiliar.
Earlier that day, Clyburn showed up
for class at Booker High School where he was an honors student. He was asked to
wait outside, near the main office and didn’t know why. A bus pulled up. “Are
you Thomas Clyburn?” driver Robert Graham asked. “Yes, I am,” the teenager
replied. “I’m here to take you to school, not here.” The driver and passenger
took the route from Myrtle Avenue to North Washington Boulevard to Sarasota
High School. Students were everywhere. “Good luck. I’ll come back to pick you
up.” The bus driver dropped him off in front of the gothic style building. When
he stepped off the bus, the world in front of him froze.
“Everyone was looking at me. My
pulse rate in my throat went to the roof.” He
walked to the administration office. “It was really, really, really quiet.
The principal [Gene Pilot] introduced himself. He asked a few questions.” Then
a teacher escorted him to homeroom. Some students were silent. Some whispered.
“That was my first day. It was a challenge. You would think those days would
get better over time, but in many ways they got worse.”
Clyburn, no longer in Booker’s
cocoon of nurturing teachers and classmates was chosen for a pilot program to
integrate Sarasota County schools in 1963. “I was sitting in homeroom looking
out of the window. A kid with a big German shepherd walked toward the building.
I heard a loud pop. Six men racing toward me said ‘get in the center. Don’t say
anything. Follow us.’ We went to the principal’s office. They locked down the
school to look for the student.” Willemina Thomas, a BHS classmate was also
selected to participate in the SHS pilot program, but their paths never
crossed. Clyburn, a behavioral psychologist was university director of learner
affairs at Capella University.
School integration caused trauma and
fear for Carolyn Mason and rightly so.
She lived in Overtown’s “Black
Bottom” located at the corner of 8th Street and Central Avenue in segregated
Sarasota. There was a dividing line at 3rd Street or present day Fruitville
Road. “I call it the Mason-Dixon line. North of Fruitville was the Black
community; and south was downtown for the more affluent community.” The
communities did not mix. “My senior year in high school should have been my
best year, but it was full of apprehension. I couldn’t think past the fear of
being around people I had never been around before. I didn’t know what I was
afraid of, but I was afraid. Somebody should have talked to the children – all
of the children – about what to expect. Somebody should have said, ‘You don’t
have anything to worry about.’”
Mason began a career in public
service after viewing a theater production in Sarasota that lacked a diverse
cast. Frustrated, she became the go between for talented African American
artists and arts organizations. “I offered myself as a bridge. I was probably
on the board at one time of every arts organization in Sarasota County.” She
was elected to the Sarasota City Commission and served from 1999 to 2003. She
was Mayor of Sarasota from 2001 to 2003. Mason is the first African American
elected to the Sarasota County Commission in 2008 and served as chair in 2013
and 2015. Social issues are the focus of her work. Carolyn Mason’s oral
history was provided by interviewer Hope Black.
Betty Jean Johnson is a voracious
reader who loves traveling to faraway places through books.
Her teacher Prevell Barber stoked an
appreciation for the written word. “I always had to read something in her class
or around her. The fact of it is when I read, I travel. We didn’t have TV until
later.” Johnson thought her college education would lead to a career in social
work.
Instead, a high school class in
“library procedures” changed her trajectory after graduating from Gibbs Junior
College in St. Petersburg. Back then, Manatee Community College, now known as
State College of Florida was off limits to African Americans. Mary Emma Jones,
a well-respected entrepreneur and community leader orchestrated the hiring of
Mary Thomas at the Sarasota Public Library.
Thomas helped Johnson land a job
there. The facility was not a welcoming place for African American patrons.
Johnson understood what Newtown residents encountered. “For a book report, I
had to go to that library for a book because we didn’t have it at the Booker
library. There were ‘closed stacks’ closed to Blacks. The lady at the desk had
to go to the stacks to get the book. When I started working there, those same
people were there.” For years, a perplexing question dogged Johnson. “What can
I do to get more Blacks to use the library?” A solution to the conundrum came
while preparing to work a split shift. She would ask the boss for use of an old
book mobile the library was about to replace. Instead, administrators provided
an outreach van that made books accessible to African American children.
From a van to a storefront library
operating on a shoestring budget, Johnson and supporters kept pushing, even
though for years their efforts seemed fruitless. Finally, the North Sarasota
Public Library opened as a result of the seed of an idea that Johnson planted.
The facility is named after her.
Alberta Brown is known in the
Newtown community for her sumptuous southern-style Sunday throw downs – a big
roast seasoned to the bone, a large pot of collards, long pans of buttery yams,
melt in your mouth mac-n-cheese and moist cornbread with crispy edges.
It is as if a small army of
people are dinner guests. Extended family members, church friends and drop-ins
are part of the platoon stopping in for a plate. Brown’s family members were
sharecroppers from Alachua County. They moved to Palmetto and found work
picking tomatoes and green beans. Brown later worked as a live-in on Siesta Key
for a physician’s family. She took care of the couple’s little girl. When help
was no longer needed, she followed in her sister’s footsteps, training to
become a cook. The position at her next job evolved into more. Jane Bancroft
Cook, heir to the Dow Jones & Company family enterprise was looking for a
cook. Through a recommendation from a previous employer, Cook met a tall,
soft-spoken woman and hired her on the spot. Brown recalls the interview that
day. “She looked at me and said, ‘oh, you’re beautiful.’” What followed was a
friendship with Cook until her death in 2002 and a lifelong kinship with the
family that remains today.
The podcast currently has 18 episodes available.