The Davis puzzle
Davis Islands' founder died early and mysteriously. Now family members and a historian are filling in blanks.
By SHERRI DAY
Published April 1, 2005
DAVIS ISLANDS - Somewhere on Davis Islands, perhaps at this very moment, the descendants of the islands' namesake are exploring their grandfather's creation.
They have come in search of their family history, to plug holes in what for them are rarely recounted tales of the Davis story. They plan to walk streets that real estate mogul D.P. Davis had sauntered in 1924, when he sold the first plots of land to eager home buyers.
To visit the park named after his beloved first wife, Marjorie. And to study the community that Davis envisioned but would not live to see completed.
The history seekers, the Davis Islands version of a royal family, are finally home.
"You wouldn't believe the enthusiasm I've heard from people," said Lee Medart, publisher of the Davis Islands Community News. "People on the island are just so enthralled with the history. We just love having them."
The family's quest to uncover their heritage started last summer, improbably, in a northern California bookstore.
Nancy and Greg Davis, the grandson of D.P. Davis, stumbled upon a Florida history book there and took the first steps of their genealogical adventure.
In reading A History of Florida by Charlton W. Tebeau, the couple learned the name of the ship that carried D.P. Davis when he went overboard and drowned in 1926. Dubbed the Majestic, the luxury liner was sister to the legendary Titanic.
Davis, then 36 and known for his love of adventure and the 1920s high life, was en route to Europe, a mistress at his side. The whereabouts of his latest wife and young children were unknown.
Upon discovering the ship's moniker, Nancy Davis was hooked. She began searching for clues about her famous in-laws' history.
Her husband, a 51-year-old director of operations for a food company, left the sleuthing to his wife because his bicoastal job responsibilities often kept him away from home. Nancy, a school bus driver, learned a great deal about the Majestic. But she uncovered little about the life of D.P. Davis.
Last fall, she decided to dig deeper. The family scheduled a trip to Davis Islands.
There were public records to request, libraries to visit and people to interview.
"Greg grew up not knowing a grandmother and grandfather on his father's side," Nancy, 52, said of her husband.
"It was a very intriguing thing and a mysterious and tragic family history. In the back of my mind, it had always been something that I thought we should explore. Suddenly, we were at an age where we can take time."
The couple made airline reservations for late March.
By December, Nancy was sleuthing again. With their Tampa trip approaching, she wanted to find lodging on the islands.
Instead she found a Web site for the Davis Islands Neighborhood Planning Task Force. She e-mailed Medart about lodging.
Medart found a spot at Hudson Manor. She also began to put together a schedule of events to introduce the Davises to the islands, and the islanders to living history.
What started as a quiet fact-finding trip quickly turned into a whirlwind tour with a packed itinerary. There would be a presentation at Marjorie Park, an appearance before Tampa's City Council and a photo op with the mayor.
Medart also arranged for the family to tour the islands with Rodney Kite-Powell, curator of the Tampa Bay History Center.
Soon Kite-Powell and Nancy Davis were furiously trading e-mails. Kite-Powell, who spent two years researching D.P. Davis at the University of South Florida and later published his graduate thesis on the real estate mogul, needed help finding the missing pieces to Davis' story. Nancy could provide some information, but she, too, was curious.
What could Kite-Powell possibly know that her family did not?
Unwittingly, the California Davises had discovered a treasure trove.
"When Rodney told us he had written his master's thesis on D.P. Davis, it was just so very clear that he knew more than anybody else in the family," she said. "We came to realize that Rodney was the expert on D.P. Davis. If Rodney didn't know it, it would never be known."
For his part, Kite-Powell never dreamed he would actually meet Davis' descendants. But after corresponding with Nancy, he learned that Davis' sons were still alive and lived in California.
The eldest, George, just 10 when his father died, is now 88. Davis' youngest son and namesake, D.P. Davis Jr., is 83.
Both had scrapbooks filled with black and white photographs and family history. The books provided clues to the boys' early lives, before both parents died and after they moved to California to be raised by their mother's sisters.
Kite-Powell could provide answers to many of the questions the Davis family had about their ancestors. But he needed the sons' help too. There were mysteries he had long given up trying to solve.
The two parties, historian and family members, should meet, Nancy suggested.
Kite-Powell was a little overwhelmed with the prospect of coming face to face with living history. But he did not dare turn down the opportunity.
In mid March, Kite-Powell traveled to California. Armed with his research, camera and tape recorder, he wanted to capture all he could.
D.P. Davis Jr. fretted that he would not remember enough to be of service. He was 5 when his father died. But Davis had a baby book filled with pictures, and he provided details of what the boys' lives in California had been like after their father's death. Davis had pictures of his mother, Marjorie, a woman Kite-Powell had never seen before. By studying photos and numerous newspaper announcements of the Davis' nuptials, Kite-Powell deduced that D.P. Davis Sr. had married up.
The family also helped Kite-Powell solve the mystery of what happened to D.P. Davis' mother, Gertrude. She disappeared from public records about 1903, and Kite-Powell had long given up trying to trace her roots.
But the family knew that their grandmother had become a grass widow, leaving her husband after their children were grown. She returned to her family in Jacksonville, where D.P. Davis would later meet and marry Marjorie.
"It's something that probably four people on the face of the entire world care about," Kite-Powell said. "But it was a nagging thing I was happy to find out about."
And George remembered plenty. He was aboard the Majestic when his father went overboard. He had been asleep and recalled being roused and told that the ship's captain had been unable to find his father.
When the ship finally docked in France, George said his father's mistress, a B-movie star, took him sightseeing around Paris. The pair's destinations included the Moulin Rouge, where the boy saw his first topless show.
George also had a picture of his younger brother in his mother's arms, dressed as if ready to go about town. That photograph disputed a long-held theory that Marjorie Davis died during childbirth.
For Kite-Powell, the meetings represented a new beginning with a subject he thought he had fully explored.
"It kind of completes things," he said. "It gives an ending to this."
With the new information, Kite-Powell now ponders writing D.P. Davis' biography.
Still, the biggest mystery surrounding D.P. Davis remains unsolved. Even George did not know if his father had been pushed from a porthole on the Majestic, had leaped to his death or had fallen victim to a wild adventure gone fatally awry.
Given his father's love of adventure - the family had pictures of Davis swinging at a golf ball atop Glacier Point at Yosemite National Park - his death could have been accidental, the outcome of another outrageous prank, George Davis said. Or, as many historians believe, D.P. Davis might have succumbed to professional pressures and committed suicide. After he successfully developed Davis Islands, projects in St. Augustine proved to be money-losing ventures.
In recent weeks, Nancy Davis has busied herself with preparations for the family's visit to Tampa.
Of strong minds but increasingly frail health, D.P. Davis' sons would not attempt to make the trip. But the elder Davises instructed Nancy to document everything and to take plenty of pictures.
Looking over the family's itinerary, Nancy fretted about what to wear. She also worried that today's islanders would be underwhelmed by her family.
According to Medart, that is not likely. She has put together a memory book from 15 people recounting what Davis Islands means to them.
Recently, Nancy got a telephone call from her father-in-law, D.P. Davis Jr., that put her efforts into perspective.
He was pleased with her research, he said, happy to see that she had found Kite-Powell and excited about the family's upcoming visit.
When she hung up the phone, her husband told her that she had done a good thing.
"It wasn't something that I set out to do," she said, her voice quivering. "It just sort of happened along the way."
Sherri Day can be reached at 226-3405 or sday@sptimes.com