We toured
the Flagler Museum on Palm Beach the other day as a treat for visiting family.
It was a treat for us, too.
The delight
of the Flagler isn’t just in the exhibits but in the place itself, a
magnificently restored, 75-room relic of the Gilded Age where a sea of gold
leaf shimmers in the glow of chandelier crystals as numerous and luminous as
Saturn’s moons.
Built just
after the turn of the 20th century, the building originally known as
Whitehall was the winter home of Henry Flagler, who may have been America’s
most brilliant inventor. He’s usually described as a railroad magnate and
founding partner of Standard Oil, but he’s best remembered here as the man who
invented Florida.
Of course, Florida
had been around for a few million years before Flagler arrived, although much
of it was under water most of that time. Eventually the waves receded enough to
make way for the folks we called Indians, who were followed by the Spanish.
Then along
came Andy Jackson, who single-handedly declared war on both in 1818. Jackson
won, and Florida became American territory before graduating to statehood in
1845.
All the
essential elements of America’s tropical paradise-to-be were in place—balmy
breezes, unrationed sunshine, sugar-white sand—but the place itself was so
remote and inaccessible that it might as well have been on the moon.
Flagler didn’t bring Florida closer to the rest of the country, he brought the country to
Florida. He built a series of hotels along the Atlantic Ocean and then built a
railroad that connected them to each other and to the rest of America.
Countless
millions have followed Flagler’s path in the past century. He is celebrated as
the father of pretty much every notable city on the state’s East Coast,
including Palm Beach and Miami. It was fitting that our visit to Flagler’s home
followed the news earlier in the week that Florida had officially passed New
York as the nation’s third most populous state.
Like other
ultra-wealthy overachievers, Flagler drew a few raspberries along with the
cheers. Ida Tarbell, one of America’s original muckraking journalists, revealed
that Standard Oil’s dominance resulted from secret deals that drove competitors
out of business. The company came to define monopoly and was broken up by the
federal government.
The rapid transformation
of Florida from lush wetlands to posh resorts led by Flagler’s efforts also
caused numerous problems, including long-term damage to the Everglades and
other environmental fallout that continues to bedevil the state.
But there’s
no question that Flagler was a man of extraordinary vision and equally extraordinary
determination. He came to Florida in his 50s, an age when most men of that era
were nearly done for, and lived to see his vision become reality.
He died
after he slipped and tumbled down Whitehall’s marble staircase at age 83 in
1913. We stood at the foot of those stairs on our visit, marveling at the grand
entry hall.
But we bypassed the stairs and took
the elevator up to the second floor. I may have followed Flagler’s footsteps to
Florida, but that’s as far as I was willing to go.