How strong do you have to be to live on the water? That’s a question those early residents of Stiltsville must have asked themselves. Stiltsville. That’s what we call this curious cluster of houses perched on stilts out here in Biscayne Bay. Its story, much like its location, is a testament to the human spirit’s desire to live a little differently. Now, Stiltsville wasn’t always the colorful landmark it is today. Picture this: the 1930s, the tail end of the Prohibition era. A man named “Crawfish” Eddie Walker built the first shack here. He sold bait and beer. He even had a dish he called chilau – a crawfish chowder that would make your mouth water. But the real draw? The chance to gamble away from the watchful eyes on shore. It was a different time. Word got around, and soon Stiltsville was attracting more than just fishermen looking for a good time. From notorious clubs like the Quarterdeck, frequented by politicians and the Miami elite, to the scandalous Bikini Club, known for its, let’s say, relaxed dress code, Stiltsville became synonymous with a certain kind of carefree abandon. But it wasn’t all parties and illicit activities. Families built homes here, raising generations with the sun on their faces and the salt air in their lungs. These homes, passed down through families, became embodiments of a simpler time, a time before Stiltsville became part of Biscayne National Park. Today, only seven houses remain. Each one stands as a weathered sentinel, whispering tales of hurricane seasons survived and the echoes of laughter long faded. Gazing at them now, one can’t help but feel a sense of awe for the resilience of these structures and the spirit of those who called them home.
Glenn Hubert Library
What secrets lie hidden within the walls of a university library? Right here in North Miami, the Glenn Hubert Library