|
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
 |
|
|||
 |
 |
 |
 |
|
Morningside dates back to Miami's pioneer days, when the family of John Saunders, a Bahama-born, Keys-reared entrepreneur, became squatters in 1886 in what was to become known as Lemon City. It, along with Coconut Grove to the south, became the focal points of life on the swamp's frontier, far more populous than Miami, with merchants, a library and a school. The community grew from a curve in the shoreline at Northeast 61st Street (Lemon Avenue) and Biscayne Bay (on the northern edge of today's Morningside boundaries), which formed a bight and made 61st Street one of the few spots accessible through the dense mangroves that protected the fragile South Florida peninsula from violent storms. Saunders filed for homestead rights on 148 acres on Sept. 17th, 1883. His fee? $13.75. He worked as a sailor, farmer and laborer in a starch mill until October 1889, when he began to sell portions of his property. By the early 1920's, imbued with the spirit of Henry Flagler bringing the railroad to Miami, James Deering building Vizcaya, the automobile fueling Miami's growth and George Merrick carving Coral Gables out of oolitic limestone, entrepreneurs began to plat a development called Bay Shore between Northeast 55th Terrace and 60th Street, east of Flagler's railroad tracks (and today, 50 blocks north of downtown's high rises). James H. Nunnally, a candy baron who founded the Bay Shore Investment Co., envisioned the neighborhood as a carefully conceived community that would include every modern convenience available. While so many other Miami subdivisions were being marketed undeveloped and unimproved, Bay Shore would have natural gas lines, sewer hookups, fresh water flowing from pipes from the company's own water pumping station, elegant street lights (lost to Hurricanes Betsy in 1965) fueled by underground conduits, lush foliage (4,000 trees were planted before the first house was sold0, wide medians, sidewalk, curbed parkways and streets bearing names such as Kennesaw, Hibiscus, Coconut and Toxaway Drive. A 1925 map reveals 27 houses already constructed east of Flagler's railroad tracks; several were spec houses, and seven ere west of what would become, in the next three decades, the motel-laden U.S. 1. Combining the west portion today a stone's throw from Morningside, one sees sturdy, restorable houses, but only remnants of what Nunnally. Nunnally's vision was to guarantee, through deed restrictions, an exceptional community for the prominent and influential. Rock, stucco and brick were the only building materials allowed; no construction could begin until plans were approved by the developer; duplexes, apartments and hotels were prohibited. The minimum price for the most inland homes was $7,000, bay front homes $13,000. Irregular lot lines assured each home the cooling breezes from Biscayne Bay. Among the people who would ultimately build or buy were Miami mayor Perine Palmer, early mayor and city manager Frank Wharton, the co-founder of Wometco, Sidney Meyer, Hialeah thoroughbred owner Tilyou Christopher , the parents of Cushman School founder Laura Cushman and many churches, which built their structures as parsonages. Approximately 41 houses were built from 1922-1926, during which Miami's population roughly doubled. Land prices could double or triple in 24 hours. William jennings Bryan was paid $100,000 a year, half in cash and half in land, to hawk property for the Gables Merrick. In 1925-26 alone, landmarks such as Miami's Freedom Tower and Trinity Cathedral, the Gables Biltmore Hotel, Palm Beach's Breakers Hotel, Hialeah Race Track & the University of Miami opened. Today, Morningside stands as a sentinel to sturdy craftsmanship, distinctive architecture and a true "neighborhood," where knowing your neighborhood is rule rather than the exception. We are eternally grateful for the sternly monitored building practices imposed by James Nunnally in 1922 when the neighborhood was first platted. On Aug. 24th, when Hurricane Andrew brought South Florida another Category 4 catastrophe, we lost lots of trees (our park, which lost 91 trees to Hurricane Cleo in 1964, was decimated yet again), but our roofs, tongue-and-groove construction and masonry walls held tight. ( read more information ) |
 |
 Home |
|
[ Home
| Company
| Search
| Sales
| Rentals
| Developments
| Mortgage
| Selling
| Area
info | Sales
Request Form | Rental
Request Form | Site Map
]
|
 |
| Terms & Conditions | Copyright©
Exquisite Properties 2006 All Rights Reserved Contact Web Master |