From the memoirs of Jane Garcia Rowland

Key West was always unique. I don’t think anyone today would be able to understand the culture I grew up in. People a lived goldfish bowl existence. You were surrounded with neighbors. The streets and yards were very large. My grandma used to say when we were talking too loud, “Shh, remember Mrs Jones is so close to us she can spit in our window!”  Next door neighbors entertained themselves by listening to the soap operas of other people’s lives. It was a good thing and a bad thing. 

You couldn’t have any secrets, but if you were very ill or you needed help a neighbor was there to help. You didn’t have to ask. According to my grandma and others, old Conchs used to mark the calendars when a young couple got married and then count the days until the first baby arrived to see if it was a 9 months baby.

I suppose in our culture and modern life people would wonder why these silly things were so important. Well, picture this, a very small island, no TV, no AC, windows wide open to try to catch a breath of air, nothing much going on, not even telephones for a long time. So what was left? People talked. They knew all about everyone else’s business so they talked. There was even a name given to the women of Key West, a label, Red Shawl Ladies. I guess after the red shawls a lot of the ladies wore as they were hanging their clothes out on clothes lines to dry. They would share stories or ‘gossip’ as some call it. 

The Red Shawl Society means something else in this present day (2025). Members of the National Susan B. Anthony Museum & House share Susan B. Anthony’s story with the world. The National Park Service marks one day per year, Red Shawl Day, which  “brings attention to the acts of violence committed against Indigenous peoples, particularly women and children. According to the Department of Justice, American Indian and Alaska Native women are missing and murdered at a rate of more than 10 times the national average. Throughout the week surrounding November 19, people are encouraged to wear red as a symbol of the loss of sacred lifeblood through violence. As part of this observance, you may see National Park Service staff wearing red shawls.” Learn more at: https://www.nps.gov/articles/000/red-shaw-day.htm

I also remember in the evening after supper dishes were done ( supper not dinner, we ate our dinner at noon) people would sit out on their front porches waiting for the house to cool down, so they could sleep. Most of these houses didn’t even have ceiling fans. Some people would go for a walk to cool off and you’d stop and visit with those sitting on the porches. You usually ended up sitting on someone’s porch for a visit, and you might get a glass of limeade or iced tea but sometimes just a glass of ice water.

913 Watson St built 1920’s. This is the house Jane lived in growing up.

I lived on Watson Street between Olivia Street and Truman Avenue and as a teen I spent a lot of evenings sitting on ___ Fernadez’s porch listening to the adults tell stories of yesteryear or the latest “ news.” I grew up with this, and to me it was normal, but when I took my two teenage daughters to visit Key West in March of 1982, we visited a lot of family and old friends and they heard a lot of stories. 

They finally asked me, “Mom, how can you stand to sit there and listen to those boring stories over and over and still act like you never heard them before?”  

Well, I had to explain we were raised #1 to never interrupt an elder, and #2 never ever interrupt a person when they were “sharing” a bit of news with you by saying, “Oh,  I’ve already heard that.”  You nod, listen  politely, and say, “Oh really,.”  then compare it to the 29 versions you’ve already heard!  As my grandma used to say “Just take it all with a grain of salt.”  

My girls shook their heads and said, “But Mom, how can you still look interested?” 

I just said, “Because  I am a Conch. Many people wouldn’t understand, but at least people communicated. And not like modern times where some people don’t even know their nextdoor neighbor, Conchs knew you, your mom, your dad, and your grandparents.”

My grandmother would sometimes say, “They better not put on any airs with me. I know where they came from. I know their grandpa.”  And you know they did; they knew your whole family.

Ed Woodson, Claude Freeman, Belle KNOWLES Freeman (Jane GARCIA Rowland’s aunt), Jane Ann HOPKINS Knowles, (Jane GARCIA Rowland’s grandmother) J.V. Woodson, Clarie Lariz (Jane GARCIA Rowland’s uncle).

I had my first boyfriend in 9th grade, and it was my first time not to have to take a final exam because I made an A.  Well, he and I made plans to meet back at the school in the afternoon and go to the beach. I went home, ate, and never told my mother I didn’t have to go back to school. He and I, holding hands, started to walk to the beach, which was just a few blocks from the school. 

Just a block away, a man at the bus stop hailed me, “Hey,  where do you think you’re going?” 

I said, “To the beach.” 

He said, “ Oh no, you’re not. You turn around and get yourself back to school or I will call your uncle.”

I said, “Yes, sir,” and turned myself around and went home. I didn’t know him, but I knew he knew my uncle, and I knew if I tried to explain it would have been interpreted as talking back, and being disrespectful to an elder. 

Yes, a goldfish bowl indeed, but one where a teenage girl could walk home from church at night and feel safe because people were there for you, minding your business.

Josephine Garcia Simmons (Jane’s sister), Jane Garcia Rowland, Karen Yvonne Hamilton (Jane’s niece). 2019 in Charleston, S.C.

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