The Florida You Don't Know

Visiting the most Greek town in America

Alright, so where were we? A few posts ago I was demonstrating what a great dude I am by successfully living with my ex-wife for a week. I then followed that post with one about monsters and managed to not mention her sister so I feel like I’ve got some good karma coming.

But in all seriousness, part of my return trip home to Florida was about reconnecting with Florida itself. So when I wasn’t with my boys, I was with the lands and waters of my adopted home.

One of the frustrating things I hear when I talk about Florida goes something like this: “Florida? Ew? Why would you go there? Colorado is so much better.” Well, I happen to love Florida, and while I live on the Front Range, I am not ready to give up on the Sunshine State. It is where I had my first taste of freedom when I was a member of the Walt Disney World College Program in 1998 and where I moved permanently two years later. My son was born there. I wrote a dissertation on its early years. And yes, it’s where I met my true love: Cuban coffee.

So last Tuesday, I dropped off my fellas and hit the road to one of my favorite towns on the peninsula: Tarpon Springs. Now a lot of you may know that both Florida and Colorado have lots of towns with “Springs” in them: Tarpon Springs, Crystal Springs, Manitou Springs, Pagosa Springs, etc. And basically here’s the difference: Florida springs towns are filled with people from New York and New Jersey while Colorado springs towns are filled with people from California and Texas. Other than that, same idea.

But here’s a thing you might not know: Tarpon Springs is home to the most Greek community in the United States. This goes back to the turn of the twentieth century when numbers of Greek spongedivers arrived just north of Tampa to ply their trade. Sponges for a while were one of the economic drivers of the region and families continued to arrive from Dodecanese islands of Kalymnos, Symi and Halki.

Greek-American sponge diver John M. Ganatos, circa 1940. Courtesy Florida Memory.

In addition to the sponge diving itself, an entire tourist industry emerged around the town and the Anclote River, where visitors could see the culture firsthand.

Postcard circa 1931. Courtesy Florida Memory.

And as you can imagine, an entire food scene developed in Tarpon Springs, making it one of the best places to get real Greek food anywhere in America. There are a ton of great restaurants, especially on Dodecadense Blvd including Hella’s Restaurant and Bakery, The Greeks Taverna, Mykonos, Niko’s, Mama’s Greek Cuisine, and the Limani. There are even more but Substack has a word limit. Just trust me. Don’t worry about finding the “best” one; they’re all phenomenal. They wouldn’t survive given the competition if they weren’t.

Not eating all of this required willpower I didn’t know I had.

So it was with this in mind that I took off for Tarpon Springs, hoping to see some familiar sites and just be a tourist for a day. One small problem: in my zeal to return to the fair weather of Florida, I forgot that sometimes the weather isn’t all that fair. So for most of the morning I walked around town in shorts and flip flops in 50 degree weather. I was promised sunshine by the afternoon and eventually I did find it, but it took a while. In the meantime, I froze.

I think for me, one of the cool things about places like Tarpon Springs is a nostalgia for places and times I never experienced. You can walk around towns like Tarpon Springs and just feel the immigrant population coming in and making it this beautiful, special place. You can see the street signs in English and Greek and marvel and the blue and white buildings everywhere and smile when you see an Orthodox church because you know you are in a community made up of people who came here and built something.

I freaking love it. And I hope that small towns like this remain small. And wonderful.

So where did I eat? I didn’t get Greek at all, as it turns out. I live in Colorado, where the nearest seafood is courtesy of Long John Silver’s. So I headed to a place I love called Rusty Bellies, which has great local fare and most importantly, serves Coca-Cola.

Not pictured: tartar sauce. Keep that stuff as far away from me as possible. I hate mayonnaise more than Pepsi.

So this was a quick visit to one of the special places in Florida. And folks, there are so many of them. Florida is a magical place full of such diverse communities that will absolutely welcome you in. And I know that where you are, you’re probably thinking of places like that too. These are the places that are worth protecting. They’re worth fighting for.

More coming soon.

Jason

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