Although Pompano's volunteer fire department was in constant need of able-bodied men to respond to emergencies, it wouldn't accept just anyone who applied.

One of the requirements for volunteers was that they not be afraid of heights. To find out if they were, the tallest ladder the fire department had was raised into the air with four ropes tied to the top and held straight up by firemen holding the end of each rope. The volunteer had to climb to the top, cross over the top rung, and descend on the opposite side.

It was said that this weeded out a lot of prospective volunteers.

In the 1920s and 1930s (and for some time after that) Pompano's Fire Department was composed almost entirely of volunteers. There was a paid fire chief and assistant, at times, but the community had to rely on everyday citizens for fire fighting.

When a fire call came in, the siren on the city's water tank, which was located on NE 2nd Street, between 3rd and 4th Avenues, was used to alert volunteers as the approximate location of the fire. One blast meant volunteers should go to the northeast part of town, two blasts for the northwest, three for the south and four for the beach. All volunteers who were available and able would respond and travel to the designated area; they would then listen for the siren on the truck to locate the fire if it was not visible.

The Great Depression came to Florida earlier than it did the rest of the nation. By the time the 1929 stock market crash, Floridians had already experienced over two years of declining economic fortunes.

By 1928, tax revenues were down to the extent that the City of Pompano was forced to slash its budget. The Mayor's salary was reduced from $100 to $75 a month. Other municipal officials saw similar cuts including:

City Auditor (from $225 to $175)
City Clerk (from $175 to $125)
Chief of Police (from $175 to $135)
Patrolmen (from $150 to $125)
Fire Chief (from $200 to $125)

The commissioners eliminated a $100 monthly appropriation to the Chamber of Commerce, promising to restore the funds when times "became better."

One official escaped the cutbacks -- the City Attorney kept his $50 monthly payment.

Pompano's first packing house for locally-grown produce was established in the early 1900s by J. H. Chapman, Sr. He had been sent to Pompano by Sligh & Company of Pensacola to build and run the packing house.

Chapman was originally from California, but arrived in South Florida in the 1890s, gaining experience by working in a pineapple packing plant in Miami.

In 1904, he married Annabelle McNab and later acquired a large amount of acreage here for farming.

What do Jimmy Buffett, Jack Eckerd, Spessard Holland and James Van Fleet have in common?

All were among the people selected by the Lakeland Ledger as the "Top 50 Most Important Floridians of the 20th Century."

No one from Broward County made the list, although the county's namesake, Napoleon Bonaparte Broward, did.

It's hard to argue that any of the people selected have not made a significant contribution to the history and development of modern Florida, but even the newspaper's editor admitted that there were plenty of others whose accomplishments were great and could have easily been included.

In any case, it's an entertaining and informative read.

In 1913, both Pompano and the automobile were fairly new when the City Council passed an ordinance requiring local automobiles pay a small fee and be registered.

A little over a year later, the Council passed an assessment of $1.00, levied against "every able bodied male citizen," so as to create a fund for repair and maintenance of local streets.

Pompano Beach Highlands was developed by the Mackle Company of Miami in the mid 1950s. A 1958 advertisement indicates that there were four models of homes for sale: the Lime Beach for $9,550; the Orange Beach for $10,000; the Holiday Beach for $10,655; and the only three bedroom model, the Cypress Beach, costing $10,710.

Homebuyers could move in for as little as a $300 FHA down payment, and monthly payments of under $70.

In 1894, several years before the railroad opened up South Florida, Charles Richard Dodge wrote about his visit to the bottom of the Florida penensula. As part of his journey, he took a boat into the still largely unknown Everglades:

I had always associated with the term "Everglades," on the map of Florida, the picture of a low-lying, dank, dark, malarial swamp, the abode of venomous creeping things; a morass where the rank vegetation luxuriating in decay formed shadowy dells, on entering which one might leave hope behind.

But instead I found an inland lake, of drinkable water, lying high up in the sunshine, while stretching away toward sunset as far as eye could reach was only a vision of blue waters, green isles, and vast areas of sedge-grass or reeds, moving in the balmy breeze like ocean billows. . .

The water in many places is so shallow that if it could be drawn off for a depth of two feet, I fancy the Everglades would resemble a vast prairie filled with little lakes and winding streams.

Dodge's latter statement was a sentiment shared by many at the time, and was the impetus for Governor Napoleon B. Broward's Everglades drainage project little more than a decade later.

(Excerpt from Charles Richard Dodge, "Subtropical Florida," in Tales of Old Florida, edited by Frank Oppel and Tony Meisel, p. 25.)

In 1899, John Mortimer Murphy, an experienced hunter and author, wrote an article titled "Alligator Shooting in Florida." In it, he discusses the economics of commercial alligator hunting, which at that time was becoming a big business in South Florida:

The hide is, primarily, the most valuable part, then comes the teeth, which are made into watch guards, breast pins, earrings and other articles, which meet a ready sale at good prices. Teeth in the best condition are worth from one to five dollars per pound, and at retail sell for ten times that amount. The flesh is eagerly devoured by dogs, pigs and fowls, and the oil extracted from it is worth twelve to twenty-five cents a gallon. When the meat is deprived of its oily matter and smoked or dried, it makes an excellent food for some domestic animals. . .

I have been trying to obtain some accurate information as to the number of alligators destroyed every year, but have not succeeded thus far. I noticed that two firms in Jacksonville advertise steadily for 100,000 green salted hides; by allowing that each receives this quantity annually we have a basis of 200,000 to start on. Admit that tourists kill 2,000; that twice as many are slaughtered for sport by natives, and that 20,000 or 30,000 hides are sent directly to Northern and Western markets, and we have 246,000, or say, in round figures, 250,000 alligators destroyed each year in Florida.

One sought-after product that Murphy neglected to mention was alligator eggs.

(Excerpted from Tales of Old Florida, edited by Frank Oppel and Tony Meisel, pp. 363-364).

Hogs were brought to Florida by the Conquistadors. Supposedly, Hernando DeSoto introduced the first hogs into North America in 1542. By the time the early pioneers were arriving in South Florida, there were abundant numbers of the descendants of these Spanish swine in the area, and as the following account from 1891 makes clear, they were not beloved by the settlers.

Some portions of South Florida, particularly those regions adjoining the Everglades, are so overrun with wild hogs that even snakes and alligators have sought security in places to which the razorbacks have not yet penetrated.

It would naturally be supposed that the saurians would be only too glad to remain in regions where their prey is so abundant, but the fact is that, however palatable a single hog might be, alligators know that they cannot cope with a sounder of frenzied swine with any assurance of success.

It is even dangerous for armed men to pass through the haunts of the hogs, as the brutes seem to be always on guard and to have eyes, ears and nostrils educated to perfection for their purpose.

They are ready to fight with or without provocation, and being stupid, stubborn, daring and malignant, they would rather die in their tracks than yield an inch of ground to a foe.

(Excerpt from "Florida Razorbacks" by J. M. Murphy in Tales of Old Florida, Frank Oppel and Tony Meisel, editors, p. 469)

The Pompano Beach Centennial Celebration Committee will hold its monthly meeting on Wednesday, March 22nd, 6:30 PM at the Historical Society's Dick & Miriam Hood Center, 217 NE 4th Avenue.

All those interested in participating in the planning for Pompano Beach's 100th anniversary in 2008 are invited to attend.

In a related action, the Pompano Beach City Commission unanimously passed a resolution at its most recent meeting giving the Centennial Committee official standing as a City advisory committee. This will make possible greater coordination between the committee and municipal government.

As with many of Pompano Beach's churches, the Thomas Temple Church of God in Christ had very humble beginnings.

In the year of 1938, the late Elder Charlie Thomas, founder and father in the Lord of Thomas Temple, said the Lord told him to go across the Seaboard Railroad tracks and build a church. At that time the area was called Seaboard Highland. It was a vastly wooded area and there were only a few houses, but that did not discourage Elder Thomas. He obeyed the Lord's command and built the first church, which was a "Bush-Harbor" [also known as a brush arbor]. It was made of tin, paste-board and other objects that Elder Thomas could find. There was a sawdust floor and the seats were bean hampers. This little bush-harbor church looked so bad until the man that sold Elder Thomas the lot told him that he would have to tear it down because he was having a difficult time selling adjacent property. Elder Thomas did not let this stop him . . .

God began to send so many souls until this little bush-harbor became too small. Elder Thomas then did a magnificent thing. He went into the swamp by himself and hewed out limbs for the first foundation of the church and dragged them out by himself. Shortly afterwards, God sent him two wonderful helpers--the late Elder Talmadge McCloud and the late Elder Paul Hunter-- who financed and helped build the first church.

Today, the Thomas Temple Church of God in Christ is located at 516 NW 16th Avenue in Pompano Beach.

Pompano Beach's rapid growth in the decade following the Second World War can be seen in the number of students attending school in the city.

During the 1945-46 school year, there were a total of 1,166 students in Pompano schools. By 1955-56 the enrollment had climbed to 4,435.

Myrtle Darsey (1910 - 2003) was the valedictorian of Pompano High School's first graduating class in 1928. That first class was composed of eight students.

Today is the birthday of Uncle Sam -- he's 154 years old!

On this day back in 1852, the New York Lantern newspaper published an Uncle Sam cartoon for the first time. The drawing was the work of Frank Henry Bellew. Through the years, the caricature changed with Uncle Sam becoming symbolic of the U.S. being just like a favorite uncle. A prime example of this symbolism were U.S. Army posters that portrayed Uncle Sam pointing and saying, "I want you!"

Uncle Sam always wore a nifty suit of red, white and blue, a hat with stars and stripes down the trousers of both of his long legs. The origins of how he became known as Uncle Sam are varied, but include a dock worker wondering what the words "From U.S." meant on shipping crates. Reportedly, he was told jokingly, "Oh, this is from your Uncle Sam."

(from Those Were The Days)

When the first Seaboard Airline Railway train arrived in Pompano on January 8, 1927, there was a welcoming ceremony at which Mayor J. O. Cook presented SAL President S. Davies Warfield with a bouquet of green beans.

The oldest standing structure in Pompano Beach is, so far as we know, the 1910 Cap Campbell house. Now located at the corner of NE 3rd Street and 4th Avenue, it was moved there in the 1920s from its original location on NE 1st Avenue, between Atlantic Boulevard and NE 1st Street.

The Pompano Beach Historical Society's public meeting on Wednesday, March 15th, will feature David Blackard speaking on the history and art of South Florida's Seminole Indians.

Mr. Blackard is the museum director of the Seminole Tribe of Florida's Ah-Tah-Thi-Ki Museum, located on the Seminole Tribe's Big Cypress Reservation in the Florida Everglades. Much of the research and design of the museum's exhibits were his responsibility.

A recognized expert on the subject, Mr. Blackard authored the book, Patchwork and Palmettos: Seminole/Miccosukee Folk Art Since 1820. He is also a Pompano Beach resident and a graduate of Pompano Beach High School.

The free program will begin at 7:00 PM at the Dick & Miriam Hood Center (217 NE 4th Avenue, Pompano Beach).

How many people lived in Pompano when it was incorporated in 1908? About 250.

The 1910 census showed the town had 269 residents. Ten years later that number had more than doubled, to 639 people.

During the 1930s, Pompano's white population barely increased while its black residents more than doubled their numbers.

The 1930 census showed a total population of 2,614 for the city, of which 1,127 were white and 1,487 black.

In 1940, Pompano's population had grown to 4,427, but the white residents totaled only 1,388 -- an increase of 261. The census counted 3,039 black residents, an increase of 1,552 over the previous census.

Since the previous post, I have been contacted by several individuals who had been involved in farming, going back to the 1930s. Each one was skeptical, to say the least, that anyone would walk from Fort Lauderdale to the bean fields west of Pompano to work in those fields.

Their arguments are that it would take too long to get to and from the fields, that there were closer places to work, that most farmers would transport their worker to the fields, and that not every farmer was harvesting every day -- one would have to know where to go and on what day, and as one person put it "that information was not "conveyed via e-mail or even the telephone."

The book cites a source for the quotation - a videotape; I'll see if I can find and view it and see if the quote makes more sense in context.

Deborah Work's 2001 book, My Soul Is a Witness: A History of Black Fort Lauderdale, has an interesting quotation from Inez Stubbs Devoe, a woman who was born in Fort Lauderdale in 1915. Ms. Devoe remembers that for black children, the school year was cut short by the need to work in the bean fields.

But we enjoyed school . . . We had no complaints until the time came for us to go pick beans. And we had fun in the bean fields, anyway. It was difficult for our parents, who worked downtown or in someone's home, for us to have to quit school and go to the fields. They worried about us walking down Broward Boulevard to State Road 7, then to Hammondville Road, to the fields and then walk back home. We would get home about 9 p.m. at night. Then we'd be up early the next morning to cook our lunch and get back up Hammondville to the fields.

If Ms. Devoe's memory is correct, this means that she and her friends may have walked over 20 miles, roundtrip, each day!

Today, the distance from Broward Boulevard to Coconut Creek Parkway (née Hammondville Road) along State Road 7 is 8.6 miles.

The City of Margate was incorporated in 1955, but did not get its first local bank, the First National Bank of Margate, until 1963. Thus, in the early years Margate business owners had to travel to Pompano Beach or Fort Lauderdale to do their banking.

A solution of sorts was arrived at in the person of Mary Lou Beldin; she lived in Margate but worked for a Pompano Beach bank. As a favor to Margate businesses, she would carry their daily deposits with her on her commute to work.

Today she marvels at those simpler, more trusting times -- she was entrusted with what were often large sums of money, which she simply put in her purse and took to work with her!

(from William P. Cahill, "Margate, Florida: The First Quarter Century, 1955 - 1980" in Broward Legacy, Vol. 5 - No. 1, 2005-2006)

Jack Marqusee is rightly given credit as the developer of Margate, the first new town to be incorporated west of Pompano Beach. But one of the first individuals to visualize the residential development of these vast farmlands was Victor Semet, a transplanted New Jersey man who got into the real estate and development business after arriving in Florida.

In 1953, two years before Margate was incorporated as a town, Semet bought 1,900 acres of farmland, more than half of it from Hammon [Development Co.], and the rest was the Lyons Farm. That year he began work on the first Hammon Heights subdivision, and two years later, Semet sold most of the acreage he had acquired to Marqusee, whom he had met during the development of Melrose Park [in Fort Lauderdale]. Most of Semet's building was done on the east side of State Road 7, an area that was not originally part of the City of Margate when it was first incorporated.

(excerpt from William P. Cahill, "Margate, Florida: The First Quarter Century, 1955 - 1980" in Broward Legacy, Vol. 5 - No. 1, 2005-2006)