Last week, I introduced you to one of the main sources for Fred Week’s story, an excerpt that was published in 1950. I wanted to explore the game of telephone that this story underwent and how tracing that game has helped me start to unravel what actually happened. Below is the excerpt re-quoted and added to by one of the more trusted sources on Orlando history, Eve Bacon, in her 1975 Orlando: A Centennial History. This time, I have highlighted in red the parts of the story that I’ve been able to disprove and the parts that I’ve been able to verify in blue. You can see how some of the incorrect information has stuck around, but Bacon was able to add slightly more factual details to her story while also adding in some conjecture in her interpretation that is still repeated today. This version is the most pervasive of the tale, and you can see it popping up in many places. It was a particular favorite of former Greenwood Cemetery Sexton Don Price, so it’s also one that has appeared in many other ghost tours and books on Orlando’s paranormal scene.
One of the rib-tickling stories that has come down from 1910, concerns an Englishman, Fred S. Weeks, and a fraudulent real estate deal. Karl Abbott, in his book Open for the Season, describes it best: “There were a number of remittance men from England living in Orlando. One, who lived in our hotel, used to take me riding all over the country with a mule and buckboard. There were no bridges, and I had to hold my feet up crossing fords. Once we drove by a twenty-acre tract being cleared of underbrush. We couldn’t see the back half because so many brush fires were going and the smoke was thick. The owners, three “Johnny-come-latelies,” extolled the fertility of the soil and the beauty of the location and my friend bought the place. The next day he drove Father and me back to view his purchase. The fires were out and we could see that most of the back acres were useless swamp. The Englishman didn’t say a word. He just turned the mule around and drove home. A few days later he bought a lot at the entrance to the cemetery and set up a large tombstone which read: “There was a man who came down from Jericho and fell among thieves; their names were…” followed by the names of the real estate sharks who had sold him the land. The gale of merriment that swept Orlando forced the three to give the Englishman back his money, buy his cemetery lot, and take down the tombstone, without a shot being fired- an unusual proceeding in those days.” Fred Weeks carried on his vendetta by building an impressive mausoleum at Greenwood, on which was carved the same quotation from Luke 10:29. However, the names of the three men were obliterated. He died in 1918, and was placed in the mausoleum, which still stands in Greenwood Cemetery. Mrs. Weeks refused to be buried in the tomb that was the symbol of so much trouble, and her remains were taken back to her former home in Indiana.
Eve Bacon, Orlando: A Centennial History (Chuluota: Mickler House, 1975): 1, 246.
As you can see, there are many points to address in my tour entry. When I started this research, I thought that I would find the real story less interesting. However, I’ve not only been able to verify the most important parts of the story, but I’ve also uncovered more intrigue than the original!
Speaking of intrigue, I’ve moved on to working more on the only other mausoleum at Greenwood, that of the Wilmott family. I’m honestly surprised that this was not a major tour stop for previous tours of Greenwood because the stories of this family are truly stranger than fiction. Indeed, the more I research these former owners of the Tremont Hotel, the more drama I discover. I can’t wait to share what I’ve found for this tour stop because I have a feeling that the general public, especially the ghost hunters who report that locals have spotted a ghostly figure in an “old military uniform” near the Wilmott mausoleum, will be extremely interested in their story (Muncy 2009, 136; Cook 2013, 35).
In supervisory news, my intern has started working on perhaps the most difficult assignment that I’ve given him; July Perry and the Ocoee Massacre. The story of the Ocoee Massacre isn’t one that has been widely taught. In fact, I (having grown up in Central Florida) only learned about it on a moonlight walking tour of Greenwood Cemetery in 2018, so it’s no wonder that my intern, who isn’t originally from Florida, had never heard the story. Since there are already many well-done works on the event itself, we’ve decided to only offer a summary of the Ocoee Massacre and focus the research on July Perry. As such, I’ve obtained a membership for my intern so he can access paywalled records in Ancestry, Fold3, and newspapers.com. This week, I’ve asked him to build a tree for Perry and see what he can uncover. I would love to find out more about Perry's background before that fateful election day, a bit more about his legacy, and the part that Greenwood has played in the story through time.
During the next few weeks, I will be doing quite a bit of “boots on the ground” research in local archives to gather more on the stories I’ve been researching. In addition, I will be starting work on a poster to be presented at the Florida Historical Society Annual Meeting & Symposium in late October on the Greenwood project. I’m still developing my plan for the poster, but currently, I think it will involve mostly information about my methods in developing a tour and maybe a few historical highlights about the cemetery. I do need to discuss it with my supervisor in case she wants to keep the whole project under wraps until the launch.
That’s all for now! Back to work!
References:
Cook, Thomas. Orlando's Historic Haunts. Sarasota: Pineapple Press, 2013.
Muncy, Mark, and Kari Schultz. Creepy Florida. Charleston: The Historic Press, 2009.
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