A Glorious Church

A Glorious Church, built c.1926, drawing in graphite, 2013 

Before I packed my bags and headed back to my homeland of Philadelphia I decided that I would use the time that I had (It seemed so abundant!) to draw some places in Florida and write about their history. I did this for two reasons. Reason A is purely selfish: I love to draw and after 4 years of art school where conceptual art became a daily mental chore, I yearned for the time when I could just go outside and sketch. Reason B is that drawing really does help me think. Observing a place for an extended period of time is a good way to contemplate the function of a place in the past and present.

Well, I did not finish the number of drawings I wished, but I did finish one. It is an abandoned church currently known as "A Glorious Church," words that are remnants still posted above the entrance. Located in Tarpon Springs, this building was constructed c. 1926 by the First Baptist Church congregation right on the bayou. The congregation has long since moved, the church being taken over and its insides altered in a failed attempt to repurpose the structure. In trying to figure out what role this place plays in the history of the area I went on something of a tangent, namely, how a place's ‘image’ is built.

Tarpon Springs is a city known for the sponge industry and the Greek population that primarily ran the sponge industry. As a student at Tarpon Springs Middle School I never, ever heard any history of the city that did not begin with Greek immigrants. Typically the history of the city I received goes something like this, ‘Well, there were people here before the Greeks, but they were mostly northerners with summer homes. The city only boomed once the Greeks got here and built up the sponge industry.’ This is partly true, the city did boom after the Greeks came. Yet, there is much more to the city than the image projected by the cities tourism district. “A Glorious Church” does not fit into the city’s history as it is commonly told. And it has been abandoned with not much of a foreseeable future.

While this is sad it makes me think of all the other places that have been left behind. Tarpon Springs is home to the oldest African American cemetery in Pinellas County. Rose Cemetery, a place that was never mentioned in my schooling days, was established before the Greek population arrived. Now in Philadelphia surrounded by places that have been abandoned and repurposed, I find myself asking the same questions on a much larger scale. 

These websites need some serious love, but for small, local establishments, they do their best.

Tarpon Springs Area Historical Society 

Rose Cemetery Website 

The Story of the Flying Ship

“For it happened that the Tzar of that country sent out messengers along the highroads and the rivers, even to huts in the forest like ours, to say that he would give his daughter, the Princess, in marriage to any one who could bring him a flying ship—ay, a ship with wings, that should sail this way and that through the blue sky, like a ship sailing on the sea.”

-Arthur Ransome, “The Fool of the World and the Flying Ship” in Old Peter’s Russian Tales, 1916.

This old story tells the tale of a young man who in all outward appearances is nothing but a fool. While his two brothers are encouraged to find this flying ship and are given rich provisions and ample support from their parents, the fool is laughed at and sent on his way with nothing but a stale loaf of black bread. On the road the fool comes across an old, frail man with whom he shares the only morsel of food in his satchel. Like other mysterious fairy land elders, the old man then imparts wisdom on the young:

“Off with you into the forest. Go up to the first big tree you see. Make the sacred sign of the cross three times before it. Strike it a blow with your hatchet. Fall backwards on the ground, and lie there, full length on your back, until somebody wakes you up. Then you will find the ship made, all ready to fly.”

Needless to say this advice proves true. Moreover, because of his trusting, nonjudgmental nature (and after a few more adventures involving leaps of faith) the fool wins the hand and heart of the princess, turning out to be not much of a fool after all.

Ever since reading “The Fool of the World and the Flying Ship” I have been drawn to it. Maybe it’s that I feel entering graduate school in the liberal arts is similar to hitting a tree and falling to the ground with nothing to do but pray my career will one day actually be a career. Or maybe it’s that flying ships are cool (which they are). Largely though, it is because the journey involves trusting ones decisions and taking those leaps of faith into the unknown with very little assurance of what is to come, regardless of outcomes predicted by conventional logic. It is a comforting story on a personal level. It is also the first story that came to mind when I made the decision to pursue an MA in Public History at Temple, or more accurately, immediately before said decision was made.

Decision process being over the concept of the flying ship- an impossible vehicle in which one must have faith for the purpose of reaching a seemingly unattainable goal- remains pertinent. I tend to view the study of the past as a journey on the mythical flying ship. Due to the underdevelopment of time machine technology we are responsible for interpreting history from whatever materials exist. We are responsible for choosing what materials to use and how trustworthy those materials are. We are also responsible for understanding to the best of our abilities the effects of said interpretations on society today. All of these things involve making decisions and a large amount of faith. I only hope that I will learn something along the way.

The version of “The Fool of the World and the Flying Ship” I have quoted was published in 1916 in Arthur Ransome’s folk tale collection Old Peter’s Russian Tales, which was also the text used in the Uri Shulevitz illustrated 1969 Caldecott winning picture book of the same name. The first English version of the story was published as “The Flying Ship” in The Yellow Fairy Book edited by Andrew Lang in 1894. (Yay! Project Gutenberg) According to these source the tale comes from Russia in the loosest geographical sense.