Fred Lowdermilk
Naples first full-time city manager
There are monuments to Fred Lowdermilk all over Naples. If you've ever admired the gorgeous, flamboyant Royal Poincianas or the spectacular Shower of Gold trees along our streets and avenues, say thank you to Fred Lowdermilk.
Lowdermilk was the first full-time city manager of Naples, from 1949 until his retirement in 1961. He was one of the most fascinating and colorful leaders in Naples, and his legacy will remain forever.
He came to Florida from Indiana in 1924 and settled in Fort Myers. For several years, he was in the construction business and was responsible for 11 subdivisions there. He also became a homesteader until the hurricane of 1926 wiped him out.
His wife, Bertha, was as colorful and flamboyant a character as her husband. The couple had many adventures in Fort Myers, Everglades and Naples. In Everglades, Fred took a job building the railroad from north of Carnestown into Everglades City. The mosquitoes were fierce and plentiful in those days, even in downtown Everglades City. The Lowdermilks used to tell about the residents of the town surviving by tying palm fronds around their heads and another around their feet to try to keep the insects off.
Bertha Lowdermilk was a superb cook and often told me about the wonderful wild game she prepared. The Indians would bring in wild turkey which they sold for $2 each, the same price as a quarter of venison. There was no refrigeration then and all perishables were stored at the Dupont Ice Plant where communal storage was provided.
The couple lived through several hurricanes and the depth of the Depression but recalled those days as happy and challenging. They often spoke of the abundance of wildlife in the region, especially around Royal Palm Hammock where they often saw black panthers and 11 wildcats attempting to catch fish along the road.
Fred Lowdermilk was a great hunter, and his favorite companion was Louis Thorpe, the second sheriff of the county. The pair brought in venison, wild turkeys, squirrels and other game in great abundance. Lowdermilk liked to tell about Louis Thorpe skinning a deer with his bare hands. One ofBertha Lowdermilk's favorite game was wild boar, and she fixed it for family and friends on special occasions.
After Thomas Edison's death in 1947, his heirs gave his home to the City of Fort Myers, and Fred Lowdermilk was hired to rebuild and restore the house. However, when Naples beckoned with the city manage's job, Lowdermilk quickly accepted.
He and Bertha moved to Naples to find a town with no building code, no inspections of new construction, few paved streets and few city employees. It was Fred Lowdermilk who introduced the first building regulations by presenting the Southern Building Code. The new city manager was also the tax assessor, and when the city engineer, William Cambier, went to Louisiana in the summer, Fred also became the engineer.
After the Naples Civic Association was formed, the group
donated two spraying machines to eradicate the
mosquitoes. Cale Jones, the Chief of Police, was given
the task of operating it on alternate nights. He shared
this job with Leroy Echols. Fred Lowdermilk would
frequently take on the job as well, arising at three
o'clock so he could spray at four, which had been deemed
the best time to eliminate the pests.
There are still those in Naples who recall with humor and
admiration Fred Lowdermilk's practical approach to
serious environmental problems. One year, the storm
sewers were clogged and overloaded. Instead of spending
thousands of dollars to clean them, Lowdermilk borrowed
several alligators from the Everglades Wonder Gardens in
Bonita Springs. The alligators were placed in the sewers
and eventually ate through all the vegetation.
Fred also attacked the problem of mosquitoes with common
sense and a modicum of imagination. He had read about
someone who raised dragonflies (also known as mosquito
hawks), and one summer when Naples was infested with
millions of mosquitoes, he ordered a shipment of the
insects. Within weeks, the town was full of hungry
dragonflies, which devoured the pests with relish and
great effectiveness.
Shortly after Lowdermilk's arrival, the Naples Plan was
instigated. The plan enabled large tax payers to deduct
up to 90 percent of gifts given to the city from their
income taxes. Almost immediately $380,000 was raised for
public works, including building sidewalks, paving
streets and eventually for constructing the hospital.
The city manager's greatest pride was the nursery he
established in Cambier Park. When he arrived, there were
few trees and plants to enhance the landscape. Lowdermilk
encouraged people to plant flowering trees on their
property by giving them flowering trees, palms and
shrubs. For many years, each householder received a new
tree every spring. They live on, a glorious tribute to
one manes vision!
Bertha Lowdermilk took to Naples with enthusiasm and
zeal. She and Fred were a colorful pair. Fred was the
marshal at the Swamp Buggy Parades, riding astride a
spirited horse. Both appeared in vibrant authentic
Seminole Indian garb; he in a tunic, she in Indian skirt
and top and her hair garlanded with flowers. I seldom saw
her without hibiscus blossoms in her hair.
During the late 1950s and early 1960s, I had a daily
radio show on which I interviewed guests. When Hurricane
Donna seemed likely to strike Naples, I asked Bertha to
appear on my show to tell residents about the hurricanes
she had survived. For almost an hour, Bertha assured
everyone in Naples that hurricanes were not to be feared.
She talked about the parties she'd attended during such
storms and advised everyone to relax and not get
disturbed.
Weeks after that devastating storm, Bertha was still
apologizing. She even came back on the air to comfort
those who had discovered much to their dismay that
hurricanes, indeed, are one of natures most destructive
forces.
Bertha Lowdermilk loved to entertain and to cook the
traditional dishes of her youth. Her bridge parties were
legendary, invitations to her dinners coveted and her
company eagerly shared by those lucky enough to know her.
