I came to Key West in 1973. August to be specific. I had made several trips in the previous months from my Coral Gables home after being thoroughly and totally enamored with the charm, grace and faded elegance of Key West during this period. As it turns out, it was also fortuitous for it was the time when Key West probably went through its greatest changes from a small fishing community dependent upon navy payroll to one of the premier destinations in Florida.
The house that I moved to was located at 609 Frances Street. Buying it was one of the most singular experiences of my life. At the time it was owned by Mrs. Agnes Sawyer Reardon, whose father, John T. Sawyer, built the home circa 1887. She was much advanced in years but had lived a storied life. Her husband was Lcdr. William Reardon. I never got to meet the man for he passed away in 1955. Miss Sawyer had no children and apparently had to rely on taking in boarders in the grand house which, bathrooms included, contained 17 rooms.
I remember well the first time I went into the house when it was divided up into several living units, the lower of which Miss Reardon occupied herself. You would enter through the front door, turn right and be in a formal parlor room that was divided into the dining area by huge sliding doors that were very elegant and the hardware of which was very intricate and beautiful. The subsequent owners have removed this wall.
Mrs. Reardon, known in the neighborhood as ‘Miss Agnes’, was a very quiet, demure … and the only word I can think of is lady. Her people came out of Spanish Wells. Her hair was coiffed silver grey and she always wore a dress, looking like she was expecting the officers’ wives for tea at any moment. I look back on this time with great regret that I did not spend more time speaking with her about the history of her family and the house. When she left she could not take, and subsequently gave me, several pieces of original furniture.
The house itself was extraordinary in many ways. First of all, it was built by John T. Sawyer who was a carpenter architect who built many of the homes after the great fire of 1886. He apparently became fairly wealthy doing it, for his house was not the biggest on the island but certainly quite large and commodious. It was the home he built for himself and I felt honored to be the first family to live in it after his daughter, Miss Agnes, could no longer care for the house.
Several features of note regarding the house were that it had an original porch that extended out from the now existing porch. It reminded me of the curved ribs of a boat and extended out almost to the sidewalk. The sidewalk itself was alternating blocks of white and grey six-sided concrete tiles. These have subsequently been removed and replaced with brick. The fence contained the original pickets now there but were arranged so they made arches in between each of the posts. The entire house had a decided feature of leaning toward the center which was because there was an extraordinarily large safe under the stairwell painted with John Sawyer’s name on it. I used the safe myself for many years not thinking about the fact that the weight was pulling the house toward the center. I’m not sure if the safe still survives.
One of the most interesting features about the yard is the breadfruit tree in the northeast corner. This breadfruit tree, according to Miss Agnes, was smuggled in by her father. Breadfruit trees are grown from root sections and he, apparently, cut a root section in the Bahamas and used it as a walking stick which got by the Customs of the day.
Another interesting feature of the property was the privy and the woodshed. The privy was a three-holer, small, medium and large. This was attached to the woodshop of John Sawyer in which were many of his original tools including caulking hammers and other marine tool implements.
The bathroom had a tile floor, marble wash basin and claw and ball bathtub. Miss Agnes told me that these were salvaged from a shipwreck which I thoroughly believe.
Certainly the most stunning feature in the house are the cranberry glass entry doors and transom. They are, I have been told, made from a process of using gold for the red coloring. They were etched with a very typical mid-Victorian floral design. One of my greatest fears was that the newspaper boy would throw the newspaper and break them. It was quite indescribable how beautiful they were standing on the inside when the sun was setting in the west The entire entryway was flooded with red light.
On purchasing the house, we put in one of the very early swimming pools. There was a well on the property and, without thinking, I used it to fill the pool. It filled the entire pool without ever running dry. I remember the water was as sweet and delicious as any water I’ve had before or since.
The neighbors – Frances Street at that time was much different to what it is today. There were many families, both old and retired and young with children. On the corner of Southard and Frances Street was the home of Allen Cleare. It was my understanding that he was the county attorney. Later, the famous writer, Nancy Friday, moved into the house next to the Cleares on Southard. The house immediately next door at 611 Frances was split up into apartments and was the primary reason for our moving away for it was constantly inhabited by hippies and drunk shrimpers. The next house down at 613 is where Mary and her mother lived. Some people called her Crazy Mary for she was a very large, loud and somewhat erratic woman who at one time held off the police with a .45 pistol from her doorway. Her mother was a mail order bride. The family immediately behind the house were old conchs and I remember once when I was talking to the grandmother about the fact that my daughter had hiccups, she suggested I lick a small piece of brown paper bag and put it on my daughter’s forehead which would cure the malady. Believe it or not, it worked. She also told me the way to get rid of termites was to put a bare bulb in the middle of a room with a washtub full of water beneath it. The termites being attracted to the light would thus fall into the water. This worked, too … sort of. Across the street, Judge Lucien and Kathryn Proby bought a house and named it “Katie Did”. The retired judge served a stint as county attorney. Kathryn wrote several definitive works on John James Audubon.
The commercial structure across the street and on the corner which is now the Haitian Art Gallery was a ship chandlery that was owned by Mr. Sawyer. I have also heard he was one of the owners of the City of Key West, a ferry boat that operated in the late 19th century. I have never been able to confirm this.
Meeting Miss Agnes and moving into this glorious house was one of the most wonderful things of my life. It entailed meeting old conchs and hearing their stories and living in a home of extraordinary beauty and design. I will never forget my first night sleeping in the upstairs corner, large, seven-sided bedroom with the windows full open and being caressed to sleep by a gentle breeze scented with jasmine from the tree just below. As a more tangible way to say thank you, Piper and I restored the Sawyer mausoleum in the cemetery. It was, and I imagine is, a great house. I wish I still owned it. For now, my wife owns a cigar maker’s house two bocks up the street and that will do just fine.
