As has been reported in most local news channels, a grass roots task force has begun meeting informally to gather information and stimulate interest in replacing the John Mathews Bridge, which connects downtown with the Arlington Expressway. At 73 years old, the Mathews Bridge remains structurally sound and certainly qualifies as historic, and it helps tell an important story about Jacksonville’s postwar growth surge. Like the Arlington Expressway, the bridge continues to carry cars, trucks and buses, serving local as well as transient motorists. Both are also instantly recognizable as artifacts of the late 1940s and early 1950s, when both the bridge and the expressway were conceived and designed. Indeed, the late State Senator, and later Florida Supreme Court Justice, John E. Mathews (1892-1955) began advocating for the present bridge as early as 1938.

As was the case then, a new bridge connecting Jacksonville’s downtown to Arlington and points east will be a generational project. The cost is unknowable, and even if it were, no funding sources for it exist. But all of those things were true in 1938, and yet the community lined up alongside determined leadership and carried the day. The lesson of history for us to draw in the 21^st century is this: when we recognize ambitious things that need and deserve to be done, we should be undeterred by their difficulty. Instead, we should be persistent, audacious, organized and farsighted.

A different historic bridge in downtown Jacksonville is now going through the process of being listed on the National Register of Historic Places, to call attention to its significant past and its role as the most prominent public icon of Jacksonville’s identity. The Main Street Bridge, opened in 1941, was the second vehicular bridge to span the St. Johns River at Jacksonville, Florida. Its four travel lanes carry thousands of cars and trucks each day on U.S. Highway 1, as well as pedestrians crossing between downtown’s north and south banks. Its intricate, blue-painted steel trusses and gently arched profile, together with its distinctive vertical lift mechanism, make it the most instantly recognizable shape on the River City’s skyline. Named in honor of John T. Alsop, Jr. (1874-1958), Jacksonville’s longest-serving mayor, the Main Street Bridge is the oldest automotive bridge still in service on the entire 310-mile length of the St. Johns River.

Comparing these two historic bridges is to try comparing apples and oranges. The Mathews Bridge carries far more vehicles every day, but is dangerous for pedestrians. Its narrow traffic lanes are over 7000 feet in length, with no breakdown lanes. At its maximum height of 152 feet above the river, an accident or stalled vehicle can back traffic up well into downtown or Arlington, preventing first responders from reaching the scene. Motorists forced to exit their cars on the bridge have no safe refuge. On September 26, 2013, a ship struck the center span of the Mathews Bridge, damaging it sufficiently to require a total shutdown for over a month while emergency repairs took place, with enormous impacts on motor traffic.

Preserving anything historic only makes economic sense if it can be adapted to the present and the future. The Mathews Bridge in 2026 is sturdy and functional, much as it was when it opened in 1953. But in 2026 we would design and build an entirely different structure to connect the east and west banks of the St. Johns River at this crucial point. History teaches us that we must adapt to change, which is constant in the life of a city and its people. Taking lessons from the past, making sense of them in the present and putting them into the service of the future is why Jacksonville’s history matters. That’s why there is a Jacksonville History Center.

Alan J. Bliss, Ph.D. | CEO, Jacksonville History Center

Our newsletter is one of the key ways we connect with the community—sharing reflections from Dr. Alan Bliss, insights from our staff, and updates on programs, events, stewardship of our collections, and progress on the new museum. Together, these efforts advance our mission to preserve Jacksonville’s history and share its stories.

Support from community partners like Haskell helps make this work possible. Their sponsorship strengthens our ability to communicate consistently with members, donors, and friends while continuing to steward the places, collections, and stories that define Jacksonville’s past and shape its future.

We are grateful for Haskell’s investment in the Jacksonville History Center and in the importance of understanding where we’ve been as a city—so we can better understand where we’re going. Partnerships like this allow us to remain a trusted convener, educator, and advocate for Jacksonville’s history.

We invite you to learn more about Haskell at www.haskell.com, and we thank them for supporting our work and our community.

The former Florida Casket Company building, constructed in 1920, provided ample space for visitors with mobility issues and families with strollers, giving everyone sufficient elbow room to study each display. The space also accommodated 23 themed trees and half a dozen wreaths, plus a spacious gift shop. The crowd favorite holiday tree was “Origami” with decorations created by the Episcopal School of Jacksonville’s Chinese World Language and Geometry students, and decorated by the Junior League of Jacksonville’s Sustainers.

One of the favorite things to do at the annual Gingerbread Extravaganza is voting for the 2025 People’s Choice Award. This year the “fan favorite” display was “Santa’s Last Stop: The Waffle House” by Tracy and David Duncan, participating for the sixth year. This couple also won the People’s Choice in 2023 with a beautiful airplane titled “Santa’s Enchanted Airline.”

The contest judges spent over two hours reviewing each of the 38 displays before awarding the 2025 Best in Show to “Special Delivery” by Sara Aicher, an 11-year builder, and also winner of the 2024 Best in Show and People’s Choice Awards. Except for the wood base, the display was made of 100% edible materials.

Please click on the thumbnails below to scroll through the full-sized images.

World War II had begun in 1939, and to the people of Jacksonville, as to most Americans, it was then a distant abstraction. For over two years, the armies and navies of the Axis Powers were locked in mortal combat in Europe, North Africa and in Asia. Far at sea in the Atlantic, ships torpedoed by German U-boats made national news. But the war’s effects on Americans were mainly economic, and in that sense, they were good. Southern seaport cities like Jacksonville had the capacity to build seagoing ships, and this city and others across the U.S. had been enjoying a wartime boom without the actual war.

On December 7, 1941, all that changed with a surprise attack by the Japanese Navy on the U.S. Naval base at Pearl Harbor, in the Territory of Hawaii. The United States immediately shifted all its economic resources to war production. Beginning in 1942 in Jacksonville, that meant a radical increase in shipbuilding, a labor-intensive business that resulted in massive in-migration from rural areas, population growth and a housing shortage. The St. Johns River Shipbuilding Company, established by local shipbuilder Merrill-Stevens Company, would launch 82 Liberty ships from Jacksonville in less than 3-1/2 years.

On the night of April 10, 1942, the war came vividly home to Jacksonville, when the German submarine U-123 torpedoed and sank the tanker SS Gulfamerica within easy sight of Jacksonville Beach. The federal government was already rushing to completion two new local naval bases, Naval Air Station Jacksonville, and Naval Station Mayport, as well as a network of smaller nearby naval aviation training fields at places such as Whitehouse, Keystone Heights, Green Cove Springs and DeLand. That wartime construction boom boosted the fortunes of local firms such as Duval Engineering and Contracting, headed by George H. Hodges, Sr., and Alexander Brest, and the Auchter Company, a multi-generation firm that would for decades afterward be associated with major projects throughout the region.

Authors trying to find significant threads in the past to help explain the present will often choose a certain year that they consider pivotal and describe the lasting consequences of its event. Some titles are obvious, such as David McCullough’s 1776, Jay Winik’s 1861, Paul Ham’s 1914, or Andrew Ross Sorkin’s recently published 1929. Others make for more provocative historical arguments, such as Mark Kurlansky’s 1968: The Year That Rocked the World, especially when considered in close juxtaposition with Rob Kirkpatrick’s somewhat breathlessly titled 1969: The Year Everything Changed. The bestselling novelist Stephen King even broke from his typical genre to craft a time-traveling exploration of the consequences of one specific day, in his simply titled 11/22-63: A Novel.

Did the events of certain years make lasting impacts on Jacksonville, to the extent that they shaped the way we experience it in 2025? An obvious example is 1901, the year of the city’s Great Fire. A different case can be made for 1967, when voters approved the consolidation of city and county governments.

Neither Jacksonville nor Florida appear in the index to Fritzsche’s new study of 1942, but I would argue that the events of that globally disruptive and tragic year did indeed rewrite the story of this subtropical riverfront city for the decades that followed. World War II reinvented the American South and helped create what we now call the Sunbelt. The years of the war particularly shaped what became modern Florida, which had until then been a hot, steamy, sparsely populated place whose economy still depended heavily on agriculture – cattle, timber, citrus and sugar. That included Jacksonville, but 1942 marked the beginning of our city’s rebirth as an industrial place, a major seaport and a Navy town.

History is a lot more than merely a list of things that happened, or of people who lived and died. It’s how we unpack and evaluate the consequences of what happened, and make sense of the past. It is the practice of understanding how we reached our present place in the arc of humanity. Knowing that illuminates the way ahead, which is why history matters, and it’s why there is a Jacksonville History Center.

Alan J. Bliss, Ph.D. | CEO, Jacksonville History Center

Twenty years ago, more than 100 members of the Jacksonville History Society and descendants of the Merrill family attended a ceremony on November 17, 2005, to celebrate the restoration of the James E. Merrill House Museum. At the celebration, 90-year-old Ann Merrill Gillette, the granddaughter born in the house in 1914, was given the key to open the front door on the night of the opening.

The house was originally built in 1879 by James E. Merrill and was located at the corner of Monroe and Lafayette Street, approximately where the arena parking garage is located today. In 1886, the house was enlarged and designed as an Eastlake Victorian house. From his bedroom on the second floor, Mr. Merrill could see the shipyards, located two blocks away.

After being sold to the second owner in 1920, the house was occupied by the Leach family and then sold but was left vacant. While in that state, a tree fell on the roof and grew to be part of the house. Water damage from the tree ruined part of the hardwood floors, constructed primarily of heart of pine and cypress. Much of the original wood was used when restoring, and any wood left over was used to make something useful for the house. The original shutters are on the tower, which is on the south side of the house, facing Old St. Andrew’s Church.

When the house was moved to its present location at the corner of Duval Street and A. Philip Randolph Blvd., and before the restoration, someone pulled up to the house, put a chain around a post on the front porch, and pulled away with the front porch. Fortunately, three spindles were left in the yard, making it possible to recreate the porch.

Because James E. Merrill formed Merrill-Stevens Shipbuilding with his brother Alexander and partner Arthur Stevens, it seems likely that some of his crews were used in building some areas of the house. The evidence of this is shown in the structural elements and finishing touches that were not part of the period. It was noted that all the interior doors were thinner than standard lumber, which is common on ships because thinner doors meant less weight.

When restoring the house, great effort was taken to portray the house as if the family was still living there. The restoration crew worked hard to ensure nothing looked brand new.

Over the past 20 years, many families and groups have visited the house. School groups are informed as to what life was like in 1903. The Merrills had four children, and items in the house reflect the clothing, toys, and way of life for the Merrill offspring.

It is so important for the citizens of Jacksonville to understand the history of the Merrill House so they can feel connected to the house and the city of Jacksonville. During tours, for anyone not able to use the staircase, there is a place for them to sit and peruse a book of photos of all the rooms and special items located upstairs.

If you would like to learn about the Merrill House, but are unable to visit, I am happy to come and talk to your group about the family and the history of the Merrill house. Once you hear their story and see photographs of the family, the house, and the ships, I hope this will encourage you to come and visit in person. This lovely, decorated Victorian house was restored for the citizens of Jacksonville to learn about the contributions of the Merrill family and the ships built to support World War I and World War II. Happy 20^th Anniversary to the restored Merrill House.

Contact our office at 904.665.0064 or email merrillhouse@jaxhistory.org for a tour of the house.

Nancy Gandy | Merrill House Museum Coordinator

In 2025, U.S. immigration policy is a subject for hot debate. So it was in 1925, after Congress passed the Immigration Act of 1924. That law placed a new limit on the number of people allowed to immigrate to the United States, based on the number of people of each nationality who had been counted in the census of 1890. The ratio was two percent, so the total number of people of each nationality in the United States, as of the 1890 national census, was the deciding factor in how many new immigrants could be allowed to enter. Under the new law, Asian immigrants were completely excluded.

In 2025, suppressing the production and illegal importation of substances such as fentanyl have accounted for new laws and increasing law enforcement efforts. In the 1920s, local, state and federal law enforcement were engaged in a war on alcohol, owing to the Volstead Act of 1919. The Act was the federal law that implemented the 18^th Amendment to the U.S. Constitution. Nicknamed “Prohibition,” the law prohibited intoxicating beverages, and gave rise to endlessly creative underground breweries and distilleries, and swashbuckling smugglers known as “rumrunners,” famously characterized by Florida boat captain Bill McCoy. In the 1920s, the fleet of U.S. Coast Guard cutters grew rapidly, in what ultimately proved to be a deeply unpopular effort to stop the production and sale of alcoholic beverages.

This month we are counting the days until the end of our current, violent hurricane season. By contrast, the 1925 season was one of the quietest on record, with just four systems that reached tropical storm force. The impacts on Florida were minimal, which encouraged speculators to make bigger and bigger bets on the state’s real estate boom. That boom was already shaky, however, owing to risky lending practices by Florida’s banks and dangerously overleveraged borrowing. In September 1926, a massive storm now known as the Great Miami Hurricane left 372 persons dead and thousands more injured and put an end to the 1920s Florida real estate boom. In 1928, worse was to come.

New technologies were disrupting the lives of ordinary citizens who sometimes feared their effects on culture and traditions. Automobiles and trucks made roads dangerous for livestock and pedestrians, and began to drive railroads and steamboats out of business. Airplanes frightened people and animals, and crashed with dismaying frequency, usually killing their pilots and passengers in dramatic fashion. Radio broadcasting spread news and entertainment faster and further than ever before, and stimulated the rise of charismatic politicians and religious evangelists.

Modernism fueled deep resistance to change. As an example, membership in white supremacist organizations such as the Ku Klux Klan grew, and the number of racial lynchings soared nationwide, including here in Duval County. Resistance also appeared in education, with the tensions between science and religion perhaps best captured in the story of the 1925 Scopes “Monkey Trial.” In September of that year, Tennessee high school teacher John Scopes was convicted of teaching evolution. The trial was the first to be broadcast over American radios and drew international attention. In the 21^st century, emerging scientific knowledge continues to attract cultural and sometimes legal resistance.

 As conflicted and divided as daily life in the 21^st century sometimes seems, it is helpful to know that we as a society have been through this before. The events of the past do not foretell what’s yet to come, but knowing about the past explains a lot about the present, and understanding the present helps us prepare for the future. That’s the work of history and that is why history matters.

Alan J. Bliss, Ph.D. | CEO, Jacksonville History Center

Can’t make the class? Click here for videos by Sara Aicher on how to build an awesome gingerbread display.

Need a starter house? Tiny Town kits are available for $20. Each kit includes an 8″ x 8″ wood base and a paper template for a tiny house, plus recipes for gingerbread and Royal Icing. There are 30 houses available; act now if you would like to purchase one. Email info@jaxhistory.org and arrange to pick up your kit.

Left: House built using Tiny Town template, base and recipes.

Build Your Own Gingerbread Display

Size limits: Maximum base 24”x24”
Materials: Your display must be 85% edible (and that includes bird seed and pet food).
Theme Categories: Traditional; Fantasy; Religious; Historical Structure / Landmark; Tiny Town House
Prizes in each category plus Best in Show! Gingerbread Extravaganza is a family-friendly event, so please refrain from displays that may be frightening to others.
Age Categories: Youth (up to age12); Young Adult (13-21); Adult (22-60); Senior (60+)
Lighting Guidelines: Lighting your display is not required, but let us know if you will need an outlet or if you will supply battery pack and extra batteries.
Registration Form: There is no fee to enter a display; sign up here.

Schedule of Events

Show Dates: December 13-27 (closed Dec. 14, 23-25), 11 a.m. to 4 p.m.
Location: Jacksonville History Center, 318 Palmetto Street; onsite parking, lot entrance from Monroe Street (behind Maxwell House Coffee).
Display Delivery and Pickup Dates: Delivery begins November 24, ends December 1. Contact info@jaxhistory.org to arrange date/time. If you want to keep your display after the show ends on Dec. 27, contact us to arrange pick-up date/time.

We observed the date because the story of the El Faro helps explain something important but often overlooked about Jacksonville. This is a seafaring city. The ship was a familiar sight along the St. Johns River, leaving and returning every week with cars, trucks, containers and cargo. Its Jacksonville crewmembers were licensed commercial mariners who worked at that profession while maintaining homes and families among us. Jacksonville’s maritime community is more than just the docks, cranes and assorted companies which occupy the waterfront. It includes ordinary people who shop alongside us, live in our neighborhoods, educate their children with ours, and travel the same streets the rest of us do. But the work they have chosen takes them away from land-bound society to vast places where catastrophe can strike and help is beyond reach.

The El Faro was a U.S.-built ship, registered in this country and crewed by American nationals. That was critical because of a century-old federal law, the Jones Act, that requires commercial vessels trading between U.S. ports to be American built, owned and operated. That’s why, to the 14 of our fellow Jacksonvillians who sought employment aboard the El Faro and ships like her, it was possible to be a commercial mariner and yet be able to depend on being at home every week – a rare thing for the men and women who crew seagoing ships. But 10 years ago, instead of coming home, they became part of the story of the worst U.S. maritime disaster in decades – since the 1980 loss of the SS Marine Electric, which was at least survived by three of its crew.

The events that resulted in the sinking of the El Faro were years in the making. As is always the case in such accidents, it resulted from a sequence of decisions and circumstances, the absence of any one of which might have prevented the tragedy. Four interesting, engaging, well-researched books have been published so far on the topic, each with its own perspective. All draw on the results of two major accident investigations into the loss of the ship, one by the National Transportation Safety Board and the other by the United States Coast Guard. We now know a great deal about what happened during the El Faro’s final, fatal voyage because, almost a full year later, a Voyage Data Recorder (VDR) was found and retrieved from the wreck, 15,000 feet under water. The voice transcript from the VDR then became critical to the investigators’ understanding of, not just what happened, but why.

Here in Jacksonville, a memorial to all 33 sailors aboard the El Faro stands in a small, quiet, park on the bank of the St. Johns River. Thirty-three authentic bollards, like those along the nearby wharf from which the El Faro sailed, represent each sailor. A visit reveals that the friends and loved ones of those lost continue to cherish their memories and keep their story alive. The Jacksonville History Center does so, too, because their stories are among this city’s many stories – some magic and some, like that of the El Faro, hard to surpass for tragedy. Remembering them makes us more thoughtful about our lives in the present, and about the future of the seaport city from which men and women continue to sail. That is why Jacksonville’s history matters, and that is why there is a Jacksonville History Center.

Alan J. Bliss, Ph.D. | CEO, Jacksonville History Center

Photos by Alan J. Bliss