The Peter Anderson Story: In Key West: I was 37 and I was home

In Key West: I was 37 and I was home

Peter Anderson: My Life

As told to Mark Howel

Continuing with Part 3 of 3 parts of the biography of Peter Anderson, who came up with the slogans and policies that identified the Conch Republic as a “Sovereign State of Mind,” seeking only to bring more “humor, warmth and respect to a world in sore need of all three.” This year’s Conch Republic Celebration is April 18-27.

Chapter 6

I arrived in Key West from New York, driving a 1972 Cadillac El Dorado with red leather seats and $2,000 in my pocket. The first thing I saw was the Sunset Celebration with its buskers, lovely ambiance and sunset itself.

I found an A-frame for rent, with outdoor decks and outdoor shower on Seminary Street, near Leon. It was gorgeous. The $1,000-a-month rent included all utilities and, of course, I fell in love with the place.

Within days I had set up a construction company with an answering service that said, “No job too large or too small.” I felt like a long-lost son who’d come home. I’d traveled all over but I never felt so at home so instantly as in those first 48 hours in Key West.

As a builder I soon met the Strunk family, I even met City Commissioner Jose Balbontin, my first connections in the construction business. I also met Tim Wegman, who owned the herb garden health food store (now the Mangia Mangia restaurant).

The hippies and the dreamers who came to Key West in the 1970s brought the lifestyle of the Beats and the gays had brought culture to this amazing town. I was 37 years old and I was home.

I was only on the island about two weeks when I first heard about Conch Republic Days, which intrigued the hell out of me. The second celebration was in 1984. The big event was the Grand Ambassador Ball at the Havana Docks Bar at the Pier House; $25 to get in. I didn’t really have the money, but I went there anyway and there was nobody at the door. So, I strolled into the room filled with the most eclectic characters I had ever seen — and I’d been in San Francisco for the Grateful Dead’s concerts. That went on for days. This party in Key West took the cake. People strolled about with sashes proclaiming themselves as the minister of this and the secretary of that, plus Navy brass in full uniform. A fellow came up to me wearing a cut-off Levi vest and a sash across his chest identifying him as the minister of propaganda. He said to me, “You want to dance?” I had never danced with a man in my life before, never even thought about it but what the heck? It turned out that he could truly cut the rug and so could I. At the end of our performance, he put his hand on my shoulder and said, “I want you to know that it takes a real man to do what you just did.” This was Jim Tucci, the editor of The Key West Citizen. I had made a friend for life and he published every letter I sent to The Citizen.

It wasn’t long before I became politically involved on this island, meeting up with George Halloran and working on Captain Tony Tarracino’s mayoral campaign. I even extended my influence by a starting a half-hour TV show every Wednesday on TCI Channel 5, run by Joe Dietrich, on which Halloran and I had an open phone line to take viewers’ calls. It became so popular and controversial that I started another show on Thursdays, “Eye on the Keys,” on which I discussed current affairs with such good souls as Richard Hatch and Elliott Baron. I got to know people like Bill Westray, Jim McClernan, Jerry Montgomery of Island Life and Sam Moses, founder of Last Stand.

I got myself a house boat (Casa del Sol y Luna) on what was known as Houseboat Row, off South Roosevelt Boulevard, salvaged from a vessel that had sunk off Fleming Key. I married Judith and our daughter Mikaela was born in March 1988. She was Key West’s second water-birth baby.

 

Chapter 7

After a serious waterskiing accident, I was forced to retire from the building trade and went to New York City to try and sell some of my writings but was unsuccessful.

It was in January 1990 that I met with Finbar Gittleman, Admiral of the Conch Republic Navy’s flagship, the Schooner Wolf. Finbar had become very upset when the tourist industry in Key West decided to drop the Conch Republic Days, which celebrated the secession of the Keys from the mainland on April 23, 1982, following the Border Patrol’s blockade and car searches on U.S. 1.

Immediately following the formation of the Conch Republic, the Conch Navy was set up and Wilhelmina Harvey was appointed Admiral and First Sea Lord of the Conch Republic. She in turn appointed Captain Finbar to serve as Fleet Commander, Rear Admiral and Second Sea Lord.

There had been no celebration in 1986 because the Tourist Development Council claimed the event was not putting enough heads in beds.

In August 1990, Key West’s Mayor, Captain Tony, acknowledged under the seal of the city our efforts to save the identity of the Conch Republic from oblivion and I was appointed its first Secretary General. Mayor Dennis Wardlow was appointed its Prime Minister.

Finbar approached me and Paul and Evalena Worthington of the fledgling Schooner Wharf Bar, with a plea that the anniversary would not go uncelebrated. Our first meeting took place at Finbar’s home on Fleming Street where the four of us came up with what we called the New Conch Republic Independence Celebration. I proceeded to put together a three-day party whose signature event would be called Last Tango on Tank Island. Bill Blue and the Nervous Guys and the Survivors provided the music, Alan and Linda Merrill of the Hukilau brought grills and food. Three hundred boats arrived at a makeshift dock on the north side of the island and 2,000 people turned up on the beach. There were also the Great Conch Republic Fashion Show and Caribbean buffet at the fledgling Blue Heaven Restaurant. In addition, Captain Finbar decided it was time to revive the Great Sea Battle with the support of the Coast Guard Group Key West, the Office of the Secretary General and Schooner Wharf Bar.

What I actually knew about putting on a festival would have fit in a thimble but by the end of the day we managed to lose only about $6,000 when all was said and done. I called all the people to whom we owed money with the bad news and the good news; the bad news was that we owed money that I didn’t have, but the good news was that I was not leaving town.

For the next annual celebration, we came up with a 10-day festival including the world’s longest parade down Duval Street, with 4,000 people attending, and the collaboration of others who created a Pirate Party, a Pig Roast and much else besides.

Because of ever-increasing liability matters, it was decided by Finbar and the Worthingtons that I would become the sole proprietor of the Conch Republic Festival.

In succeeding years, the Bed Race was added and the whole affair became the longest standing AIDS Help benefit. And so we all began “growing old disgracefully,” without taking a dime from the TDC after all these years.

 

[livemarket market_name="KONK Life LiveMarket" limit=3 category=“” show_signup=0 show_more=0]