A man to remember: Ernest Coe, 'Forgotten Father of the Everglades'

COURTESY PHOTO / FLORIDA MEMORY STATE LIBRARY & ARCHIVES OF FLORIDA Ernest F. Coe, right, accepts a plaque in recognition of his efforts at the dedication of Everglades National Park, Dec. 6, 1947.

Marjory Stoneman Douglas, author of the enduring publication "The Everglades: River of Grass," was known for her humanitarian efforts before she lent her energies to the cause of protecting the swamp at the southern tip of Florida. In honor of the dedication of the Everglades National Park in 1947, Mrs. Douglas wrote a fitting tribute to the man to whom all Floridians owed a great debt of thanks: Ernest Francis Coe, the Forgotten Father of the Everglades.

Her tribute began with, "He was certainly the prophet, and unmistakenly the founder, but what more he was is hard to define. Ernest F. Coe, the 6-foot-tall, spare, courtly gentleman without whose startling vision, slow-burning passion, steely endurance, and indomitable will there would be no Everglades National Park today. And probably no Everglades. No one word can contain his complexity or equal his simplicity...."

'A white fire of revelation'

Mr. Coe, a Yale graduate who earned post education in landscape architecture in Japan and Europe, became one of New England's best and brightest in landscape design. When he landed in Miami in 1925, he was ready to position himself to the wealthy Palm Beach society, who would be in need of landscaping. This is where he met Harold Bailey, the organizer of a group of Miami intellectuals who were the interested in the Everglades.

He wanted to see these Glades firsthand, and upon that first gaze, a "white fire of revelation" took hold. From that moment on, until his death in 1951, he was her unyielding champion in words and deeds. She became his home away from home — a rare and misunderstood treasure he vowed to protect.

Mr. Coe would roam the Glades alone, with only a walking stick, and was reportedly able to sleep just about anywhere — on the beach, on a riverbank with the alligators nearby or on a bed of leaves in the hammock.

Even the scream of panthers never fazed him. As the story was told to the Saturday Evening Post, one night as he fell asleep a big cat sat next to his shoulder and he "enjoyed the friendliness of the wild thing."

The goal line — almost

Mr. Coe talked, petitioned and pleaded his case about the importance and value of protecting the Everglades for more than two decades, but wasn't until after WWII that his passion finally reached those who could make it happen.

After the war, John Pennekamp, the editor of the Miami Herald, who knew both Mrs. Douglas and Mr. Coe as conservation kindred spirits (Mrs. Douglas was also a

Herald columnist), revived the Everglades National Park Commission. Mr. Pennekamp learned that 900,000 acres belonged to the state and then convinced the publicspirited Barron Collier family to donate additional lands to comprise the park. It took five Florida governors, three U.S. presidents and $2 million dollars, but finally Everglades National Park became a reality under President Harry S. Truman.

In the know about Mr. Coe

My first awareness of Mr. Coe came on a field trip to Plantation Island a few months back to visit the 80-year-young folk artist Dick Jay, whose scrap metal creations of flowers found in the Everglades are so lifelike, you want to put them in water.

His trailer home on the banks of the Barron River is all you would expect a folk artist's home to be, capturing the character of a renaissance man who has found his peace and place in life. In hindsight, I realized, Mr. Jay was much like Mr. Coe in spirit and in his love for the Everglades.

While walking around his "tin can" studio/ museum, I spied a metal sculpture of a lady in pearls, wearing glasses and large brim hat. It was undoubtedly an image of Marjory Stoneman Douglas. Mr. Jay's carved wood replicas of Calusa masks sat along fanciful tin birds and flowers that were works in progress.

Then a shadow off to the side of this fascinating workshop caught my eye. It was another tin statue, this one of a tall, thin man with binoculars, hat and what looked like a "chaw of tabacky" in his left cheek.

"This is Ernest Coe," our host noted as he nodded reverently before moving on to other subjects. My companions and I shrugged sheepishly, which was Mr. Jay's cue to educate us ignorant souls on this almost forgotten man.

Fast-forward several weeks, to the preview of the PBS Untold Story of "Conservation Collier" on April 28. Mr. Coe was revealed as one of the key protagonists of the conservation movement. Because of my recent trip to Plantation Island and the education received from Mr. Jay, I could speak knowledgeably of Mr. Coe's efforts and amazed the guests around me, who were unaware that only a few weeks ago, I, too, did not know of our debt to this man.

Mr. Coe might have been "forgotten" once, but the Everglades will always remember their champion. I hope we all do, too.

Lois Bolin is the co-founder of Naples Cultural Landscape, a fund at the Community Foundation of Collier County. Naples Backyard History is the fund's educational initiative. 

Visit the NBYH mini-museum at 1300 Third Street South, where an exhibit about Ernest F. Coe, Marjory Stoneman Douglas and the Everglades is currently on display.

Folk artist Dick Jay's life-size metal statues Mrs. Douglas and Mr. Coe are on loan to the mini-museum. Call 594-2978 or go to www.naplesbachyardhistory.org