Remaking Place and Asserting Space: The Land Trust Experience in Winter Park, 1991-2010 _ Ep 4: Further Reflection on Planning

In 1902, seeking to explain the importance of city planning, Daniel H. Burnham, the foremost architect and planner in the United States wrote, In the American there is developing, a new instinct. This impulse he explained defied tradition, exploited opportunity, and strove to produce a new modern world. These attributes reflected, for many Americans, the United States place in the modern world. This new modernity framed the emergence of the Progressive Era, a period in the early twentieth century when theories of social, political, and economic efficiency seemed to promise a better society. How did the ideas of city planning change urban development? What if any of those changes relate to the urbanism today?

Planners, who comprised an amalgamation of intellectuals, social reformers, business leaders, lawyers, doctors, and government officials were driven by a progressive belief that American society could be made better, not simply better in terms of aesthetics, but better in the sense of an environmental determinism that addressed the ills of urban society. This period marks the formulation of city planning theories that allowed planning advocates to define what city planning could and should accomplish. Identified by their commitment to safeguard social unity and political cohesion that characterized the American social system, planners pursued different avenues in their search for stability. They articulated ideologies of efficiency, social welfare, and beautification in their search for the proper formula for development.

At some basic level, city planning represented a professionalization of urban development practice driven by the rise of an educated white middle-class who feared disruption rooted in the city. The push for professionalization provided this managerial oriented middle-class a tool to establish civic prominence by displacing the traditional power structure by arguing their understanding of the "new science" of city planning positioned them to make better decisions for society. Thus, from its inception, city planning established a link between middle-class social belief and regulatory standard for housing and development. The origins of the contemporary suburban experience can be traced to this period. Historian Dolores Hayden writes that the source of United States postwar housing policy grew from the need to fulfill ideas of family and work more applicable to the nineteenth century idea of home and work rapid developing in the Twentieth century.

Our research on the Hannibal Square Community Land Trust links directly to this ongoing debate in American planning literature. As we talk to people and explore the history of the organization, one clear barrier to the success of the HSCLT is the traditional desire to own a home. Let me explain. The CLT in Winter Park like CLT around the country operate by holding land in trust and selling the home. CLTs prevent market forces from raising prices and keeps homes within reach of families who could not traditional participate in the housing market.

This process however runs counter to what Americans believe should happen when they buy a home. CLT homeowners own the home and leases the land. This is not the traditional owner model and while the CLT provides a unique opportunity to buy homes, many people who may qualify resist participating. For African-American especially, the thought they will not own the land, an idea deeply rooted in the psyche as a symbol of citizenship, is troubling. I would argue that one obstacle for the HSCLT to overcome is the belief, born in the aftermath of the Civil War, that African-American must acquire and hold land to be secure in the United States. This belief, best summed up with the phrase "40 acres and a Mule" grew from the action of William T. Sherman, who issues Special Field Order No. 15 in 1865 grant land to former slaves in Georgia. The special order was rescinded by President Andrew Johnson within a year and the hopes for African-American land ownership were caught in the politics of Reconstruction. Regardless, the ideas remains a reference point for African-Americans. In the aftermath of slavery sleeking and holding land was one mechanism to demonstrate freedom.

As I have noted in earlier episodes, Winter Park was planned with African-American property owners as a goal. In the years since the town's founding, African-Americans have maintained ownership, but the value of their land has not matched their white counterparts--a clear legacy of racism. At the same time, development pressure have increasingly focused on Hannibal Square, in part because the area east of the railroad track is too expensive for new development. For African-Americans struggling to hold on land that has been in their families for generation, the pattern of recent development tells a story of African-American displacement driven by white land speculators, white businesses, and new white residents. How can those African-American residents support the HSCLT? For them the HSCLT provides homes without land, a model that counters both the history and desire promoted in the American experience.

The HSCLT can be one way to stabilize the housing market in this traditional African-American neighborhood and provide an opportunity for a new generation of low to moderate income homeowners to live in Hannibal Square, yet to achieve that goal, a new narrative of home ownership will need to be created and nurtured within the community.

Remaking Place and Asserting Space: The Land Trust Experience in Winter Park, 1991-2010__Ep 3: The Making of a Theortical Framework

Photos by Kelsey Von Wormer












The Plan for Winter Park








Allison England and I continue our efforts to understand the CLT experience in Winter Park. We can say firmly--there is a complex story related to housing policy and local story. We continue to deepen our understanding of local story. Recently, we took a walking tour around Hannibal Square. As the images can attest, the physical layout of the community tell a story about development on the "other side of the tracks." There are a number of possible avenue we can take to highlight, understand, and explain the Winter Park experience. Incorporating the established literature on race and housing, we can place the local African-American experience within a broader regional perspective. Recently Allison reviewed Andrew Wiese's work and noted the “domestic service employment suburb” that housed “shopkeepers, mechanics, industrial workers, and the servants who made it possible for white residents to "live comfortably in the palatial homes" within whites communities he identified in his research relates easily to the Winter Park experience. In addition, we have considered the work of Gwendolyn Wright and Dolores Hayden to understand the social implications associated with the home. Our analysis has established a strong culture of property ownership for African-Americans and the implications of that culture on perceptions about community continue to shape resident's perceptions, even as broader economic, social, and political changes have worked to marginalize Hannibal Square.

For me, as a historian of urban planning history, I can see how traditional tensions over race and class framed Winter Park's development. As we move forward I think our research will allow us to explore the link between community, policy, and the home. As we currently struggle over the effort to promote middle-class homeownership, the history of this type of policy offers important lessons. Key to this analysis in my opinion is how the assumptions about property and public policy practice at the turn of the century--social control, order, and modernity were refined in significant ways by municipalities throughout the twentieth century. In Florida, the importance of modernity, consumer consumption, and the socialization of space play a crucial part shaping perceptions of the lived experience. Winter Park's story can and will inform our understanding of the American housing experience.

Remaking Place and Asserting Space: The Land Trust Experience in Winter Park, 1991-2010__Ep 2: The Story Grows More Complex

Caption: Allison England working in the archive.
Photo by Julian Chambliss











Caption: Shady Park sit at the center of the Hannibal Square, the historic black community in Winter Park. Photo by Kelsey Von Wormer







Part of the value of working in the Rollins Student-Faculty Collaborative Research Program is the opportunity to pursue those ideas you don't have time to pursue during the regular academic year. Working with students to show them the reality of your discipline, getting into the archive, and making discoveries that reshape your thinking are all part of summer research. Allison England and I recently took a few days to burn through the Olin Library Archive and Special Collection vertical files on the Westside Winter Park. Some elements I knew, some I did not. Allison confessed, "It is a more complicate story than I thought." While you might rightly point out, she is new the material, in her defense, it was a more complicated story than what I thought also!


We have been doing some free writing, summarizing information and mapping out the story. Recently Allison wrote this:

Winter Park’s west side, Hannibal Square, was founded for African-American residents in 1881. By all accounts, West Winter Park was “a bustling, vibrant community that, in some ways, had more going for it than it does today.” It had a black-owned newspaper, The Advocate, catering to both blacks and whites, and two black men were twice elected as city aldermen. A negative image of West Winter Park has led to “a renaissance of sorts” by Winter Park, and a decision to revitalize and redevelop the community. The tracks running through Winter Park have historically stood as a dividing line between black and white, but this line has recently moved, causing some to wonder “if the rapid transformation of the area is a healthy boost or a destruction of culture.”

Everything she wrote is true, but that shift from "vibrant community" at its founding to "renaissance of sorts" is a complicated story. It also happen way before the story we are suppose to be talking about. As we discuss our finding, I was struck by how much the origin story of Winter Park is tied to the idea of two worlds, one black and one white and the homes in those two worlds. While I thought of our story as being about the meaning of the home in the city and the historical implication of the struggle to have a home, I had not thought about that meaning as one long narrative present at the foundation of the community. In the beginning Oliver Chapman and Loring Chase purchased 600 acres bordering Lakes Maitland and Osceola with the goal of creating a beautiful winter residential community for wealthy northerners. Between 1881 and 1885, they developed and advertised the new town of Winter Park located just four miles from the county seat. Chase and Chapman relied on the area’s natural beauty to entice visitors and to support the image of a community as tourist destination. Between 1882 and 1886 Chase oversaw the construction of the Seminole Hotel. Reminiscent of the coastal luxury hotels owned by Henry Flagler, the Seminole was situated on Lake Osceola and offered two hundred guest rooms and amenities that included sailing, rowing, fishing, and two steam yachts for guests. The hotel and the agricultural business developing in Central Florida required labor and African-Americans were crucial for the hotel and the groves in the area. When plotting the original town, Chase and Chapman set aside plats to the west of the rail tracks to be sold to African-Americans at a low price with the restriction that they must erect a home on the lot. Thus, the African-American labor in Winter Park, like much of the South, allowed the community to function. Yet, the sale of land and the demand to build a home, also created a vibrant community of property holding African-Americans. Indeed, the town could not have been incorporated without the support of African-American residents in Hannibal Square. Hannibal Square was the heart of the black community and residents enjoyed relative economic stability and strong community organization at a time when southern Democrats moved to redeem the South after a decade long effort to reconstruct society. The growth of Hannibal Square coincided with the emergence of Eatonville, FL (the oldest incorporate African-American community in the United States) and the two communities shared cultural and educational links. In 1887,Gus C. Henderson, the African-American owner of local general printing and publishing company rallied African-American voters to support Loring Chase’s efforts to incorporate Winter Park. Henderson, a staunch Republican urged, the sixty-four registered African-American voters to support the measure. These votes were crucial; only forty-seven white voters were registered and the total year round African-American population outnumber the total year round white population!

The measure passed and the newly incorporated town included Hannibal Square. Reflecting the importance of the black community, the election of new aldermen included African-Americans Walter B. Simpson and Frank R. Israel representing West Winter Park. Yet, like much of the south, conflict between Democrats and Republicans and wider control of the region changed the political landscape. In 1893, William Comstock and several other residents petition the Florida legislature to detach Hannibal Square from the city. Like most African-Americans, Hannibal Square residents were Republicans and Hannibal Square represented a powerful counter to Democrats' control. The Florida Legislature voted to change the city boundary, despite local opposition. While the strong economic and social links between the black and white community continued, the political link temporary came to an end. In an ironic twist, in 1925 Winter Park once again annexed Hannibal Square when city officials realized they needed a greater population base to qualify for state funding for municipal projects. Once again, African-American property owners were needed in order for the state to designate the "Town of Winter Park" as the "City of Winter Park."

The link between the black homes and white homes in Winter Park was there at the beginning. Also at the beginning is a question of fairness, access, and power. Winter Park's one time slogan of "City of Homes" is full of meaning, as we learn more, that meaning is only become more and more complex.

Remaking Place and Asserting Space: The Land Trust Experience in Winter Park, 1991-2010_ Ep. 1

Photo: Kelsey Von Wormer

This summer I'm back working with the Rollins Student-Faculty Collaborative Research Program. My research collaborator is Allison England. Our project, as the blog title suggests is Remaking Place and Asserting Space: The Land Trust Experience in Winter Park, 1991-2010. The goal of this summer project is to create an integrated multimedia article that analyzes the history and impact of the Hannibal Square Community Land Trust (HSCLT) in terms of its own self identified goals and within the context of the affordable housing debate in the United States. Created by the Winter Park Community Redevelopment Agency (CRA) in 2004, the first HSCLT homes were completed with the assistance of the Homebuilders Association, the Orlando Chapter of the American Institute of Architects, Orange County Division of Housing and Community Development, SunTrust Bank, and technical assistance from Florida Community Partners to create affordable low incoming housing for Westside Winter Park residents.

The story of the land trust is however, more complex than the simple story of its formation. Housing represent one aspect of the American dream, perhaps the biggest visible aspect of what it means to be American. One long term consequence of the economic downturn is now Americans are questioning the validity of the American dream. Does every American, if they work hard and play right, end up with a home of their own? For some the answer is suppose to be yes and not being able to hold on to their dream home is a blow to their vision of America. This issue is at the core of the ongoing debate about the housing crisis. This is our first week doing research and believe it our not, we spent some time exploring the symbolic nature of the home in the American experience. Going back to colonial era and following the idea all the way to contemporary suburbia. The true is that the physical layout of the American home and the policy governing the American housing market are linked to old ideas about what the American experience is (or what we think it is suppose to be), but those ideas have been open to manipulation by forces as wide-ranging as the writings of Andrew Jackson Downing to the provision of WWII era G.I. Bill. On top of that gender, race, and environmental concerns play a part in the discussion. In discussing things with Allison, I pointed out we don't need to reinvent the wheel. Its a good thing, the wheel is big and its only the two of us to do the whole thing in eight weeks!

On the bright side, I realize I can refer to Andrew Jackson Downing as his era Martha Stewart and someone will instantly understand who he is...I gotta remember that one for class!

A Bit of a Historical Mystery

As a professional historian you always (95% of the time) end up going to a new place when you get a new job. For me, that new place was Winter Park. In many ways it was a lucky break for me. I grew up in Florida, I'm not in love with the cold (I could have ended up at a large land grant university in the middle of Idaho!) Instead, I got to stay in Florida. Moreover, as I looked around Winter Park I found interesting things for an urban historian to consider. The city's dedication to cultivating a "urban village" identity in a Central Florida region known for Disney and mass tourism is ripe for consideration. Struggles over planning and the dangers of sprawl are everywhere to see and the Hannibal Square neighborhood and Eatonville are centers of black history often ignored by the wider public. Hannibal Square, situated on the west side of the city, is a historic black community that served as home to black residents who worked in the groves, hotels, and homes of the white residents who came to Winter Park when life became too cold in the Northeast. Hannibal Square's story is the story of African-American experience in the 20th century in some ways, and a interesting contradiction in others. Recently Dr. Denise Cummings and I worked on a Florida Humanities Council grant examining the history of the Colony Theater on Park Avenue in Winter Park. The building's current incarnation as a Pottery Barn does nothing to distract from the bright vertical marquee that still bears the movie house's name. While researching the theater we discovered a black theater or to be precise, two black theaters. Oral interviews establish the existence of a theater called The Star. Archival research and newspaper accounts established the existence of a theater called The Famous. Now the big question (there are many) is which one came first (older black residents seem to remember The Star, but no one seems to recall The Famous). It is a mystery, if you know anything, let me know!!!