Good afternoon Hawkshaw! If you get a few minutes please read a little excerpt about the history of the tan yards and the areas around Aragon Court. The idea that waterfront property is valuable is a relatively recent phenomenon. Advances in construction and engineering have only recently improved the chances that a waterfront home will survive a devastating storm. Residents of Pensacola in the first half of the 1900s were well aware of the devastation of hurricanes and saw the damage firsthand on several occasions. The more well-to-do lived out of the flood zone in North and East Hill. It was the lower- to middle-working class of Pensacola who worked and lived in the neighborhoods on the waterfront. The Tan-Yards was one of those working-class neighborhoods. One of Pensacolas oldest historic Creole and racially mixed neighborhoods, the Tan-Yards was located along the waterfront until most of the land was bought out to build government buildings over the past few decades. At the height of Jim Crows rule over Pensacola, the Tan-Yards were a strange anomaly of racial relations in the Deep South. Blacks, Creoles and whites lived side by side, went to the same church, and played together—at least while they were in the Tan-Yards. Though integrated, it was not entirely protected from the storm of racism that blew across the South, says Diane Gaines Jackson in the book Images in Black, edited by Ora Wills. White children and black children did not acknowledge one another when they came in contact outside the Tan-yard. In spite of the fact that this was an unspoken code of conduct generally accepted by both groups, black youngsters deeply resented what we saw as two-faced behavior on the part of our white neighbors. Gaines writes that there were courageous exceptions to this double-standard, but those that made the exception were rare. Yet, in the segregated South, it was indeed a rarity to live in a mixed-race neighborhood. At the center of this multi-ethnic community was St Josephs Catholic Church. The church was founded by Mercedes Sunday Ruby during the Reconstruction Era on land donated by John Sunday, an African-American veteran of the Civil War. St Josephs was built as a church for anyone living in the neighborhood, regardless of race—a rare event even by todays standards. And the Tan-Yards were some of the most diverse, cosmopolitan and international city blocks in Pensacola. A large section of the immigrant community, especially Irish, German and Italian Catholics, lived side by side with Pensacolas black, Creole and white citizens. Many of these same people who lived in the neighborhood and worked in the sea-going trades attended St Josephs. The churchs role in the lives of the people working off the docks and at sea went deep. In St Josephs cemetery, an obelisk is dedicated to sailors lost at sea and bears the names of the parishioners whose bodies were never recovered etched on its side. Beside the obelisk are the graves of sailors from around the world who died in our waters and were known by the people of St Josephs. Martin Lewis, author of a history of the church, says that one of the early missions of St. Josephs was to take care of the seafarers and wayfarers. In fact, the Lumbermans Stevedore Association and the Shipworkers Benevolent Association were consistent donors to many of the churchs social functions. St Joseph became the beacon of light for people in the Tan-Yards, Lewis says. Immigrants, Italians, Irish, Creoles, Black Catholics and longshoremen alike. For the children of the area, (St. Josephs) became their light. It became the center of the world for the Creole and black Catholics. It was the center. Throughout the years, the church would remain active in the care of its parishioners and those in need of help. St. Josephs was a mainstay at protests in the Civil Rights era, and currently operates a free clinic that helps a great deal of the areas needy. Environmental problems, too, have long been an issue for people living on the water. Since colonial times, regulations have been made, and often broken, concerning the dumping of waste into Pensacolas waters. Ernie Rivers of Emerald Coastkeepers and Bream Fishermans Association, two local environmental organizations, describes what the bay looked like from memories of his youth: White sandy bottom, the water, everything was so clear then. You could see hundreds of porpoises swimming in the bay. Bald eagles. It was very pristine back then. Not so much these days. Companies like Gulf Power, Monsanto and Escambia Chemicals were some of the main culprits of this pollution. The Main Street sewage facility and the Naval Air Station were also guilty parties. What started in the 1940s went on for decades unchecked until knowledge of the devastating effects of this pollution became known. It was around the 1960s that the waters off of the coast of Pensacola had one of the largest fish kills anywhere in the world. It was said to go for seven miles. That damage will be with us for a long time to come. Probably much longer than either you or I will be alive, says Rivers, who became involved in the fight to save the bay then and has been involved ever since.
Posted on: Tue, 03 Dec 2013 18:21:10 +0000