Exploring Florida: Castles in the Swamp

"A man’s home may be his castle” is a phrase that some interpret far more literally than others.

It wouldn’t be entirely accurate to say that America has no architectural tradition of castles. It may not have the same sort of imposing stone behemoths perched atop hills and mountains that you find throughout Europe, but it has instead a peculiar variation – what I’ll call DIY castles. These oddities dot the American landscape in often the most unexpected places, including here in Florida. They range in style and materials, constructed from concrete to coral to metal printing plates to just about any material at hand, but they are all related if by nothing more than the visions that drive their creators.

Solomon’s Castle

Sprouting up from the wilderness (which in central Florida translates to swampland) in Ona is a marvel and almost certainly the best know piece of functional artwork created by sculptor and stained glass artist Howard Solomon.

The “da Vinci of Debris” as he’s been called, began what evolved into a gleaming, three-story castle in 1974 when a local newspaper went under and threw out their old printing plates. It has since expanded to include a moat, a boat in the moat, and a lighthouse which was the last element of the castle to be completed before Solomon’s death in 2016.

The boat in the moat serves as a restaurant, which has surprisingly good food. When Jen and I went to visit, a local musician was performing in the seating/eating area, which added just the right touch to what was a happily quirky experience. The tour featured not only Solomon’s vast collection of artwork (ranging from wire sculptures to found object art to stained glass work), but also his wit and playfulness, as the staff continues to use his script. As a punster myself, I found this tremendously amusing (even as Jen groaned and rolled her eyes beside me).

What struck me most, beyond the scale of the endeavor, is that here stands a monument not only to chasing but to capturing and harnessing one’s childhood fantasy – playfully reshaping the world through a fusion of creativity and obsession into something whimsically otherworldly. See it if you have the chance.

Ed Leedskalnin’s Coral Castle

If Solomon’s Castle is forged out of scrap metal and childhood dreams, than Ed Leedskalnin’s creation is a contrast in terms of both material and motive. Constructed entirely from oolite limestone, Coral Castle is an epic monument to one man’s unrequited love.

The diminutive Latvian Leedskalnin was rejected by his love the day before they were to be wed. His bride, one Agnes Skuvst, was sixteen at the time (he refers to her as his “Sweet Sixteen” – which is also the title of the Billy Idol song and video later recorded at Coral Castle). After this, having apparently contracted tuberculosis, Leedskalnin moved to America and sought out the healing heat of Florida.

He built his first castle, “Ed’s Place,” in Florida City but relocated it in 1936 to the unincorporated territory of Miami-Dade County over property concerns. There he continued his work, which lasted 28 years.

The castle came to contain a number of unique structures, including the “Rock Gate” at the entrance, an accurate sundial, a Polaris telescope, multiple rocking chairs in the shape of crescent moons (a motif carried throughout the castle), a heart-shaped table, a throne and two 25 foot tall monoliths.

As outgoing as Solomon was, Leedskalnin was equally reclusive, bordering on paranoid, which only further fueled speculation as to how he was creating his castle. Some claimed that he used magic to levitate the blocks of coral. Others, based on the astronomical theme, assumed that he was using alien technology. None of this was true – all he utilized was basic construction equipment (levers and pulleys and such) with a degree of precision that would make any modern engineer proud.

Leedskalnin passed away in 1951 of a kidney infection, without his lost love ever having come to visit the world he carved for her and their imaginary children.

The tour at Coral Castle is also well worth the entrance fee (a bit more today than the 10 cents it cost when Ed lived there). There's fewer chuckles to this tour and to the castle as a whole, but it is not without a certain dry humor and, to be sure, no less amazement.

While Solomon caught his dream, Leedkalnin it seems, pursued his to the very end. Both, however, embody the sort of obsessive (arguably delusional) passion that drives a very few to erect castles in the swamp.

And they’re not alone – within Florida there’s also Castle Otttis (yes, that’s with three T’s) in St. Augustine. Beyond the state of Florida there’s Cano’s Castle in Colorado, The Junk Castle in Pullman Washington, The Houston Texas Beer Can House and a great many others. I’d venture that even as you read this, somewhere, someone, for reasons unknown to us, is this very moment sifting carefully through and sorting debris to load into a truck and bring back to the site where they will eventually break ground.