DON DAVID ARGO
Don Argo is the retired Head of the department of Mathematics at Brevard Community College in Cocoa, Florida. A founding member of the Spacecoast Writers' Guild, he has been active in assisting and publicizing the efforts of hundreds of authors in the Brevard County area. Canaveral Light is his first book.
Canaveral Light is a historical novel that centers around Florida pioneers in the era of the Seminole Wars and deals with ethnic conflicts, including the question of slave-master relationships. Canaveral Light won the Patrick D. Smith Award and is a continuing best seller.
Don David Argo is available for talks and autographing sessions. Contact him directly at dondargo@earthlink.net
READ THIS REVIEW OF CANAVERAL LIGHT--
Robert Fulton, Jr.
"The River Geezer"
w/c 661
History is about people, and not necessarily about great events, says Argo in the acknowledgments section of his earthy and very readable novel, CANAVERAL LIGHT. His “people” are alive and believable in this rendition, giving historical characters flesh, He stood for a drawn moment . . . . then scalped them, savagely ripping the locks from their heads. He threw the bloody wads of hair onto the coals of the fire, muttering “Go bald into your next life, you bastards” — page 27. Now, how can you not like a main character like this? What keeps Dummett credible, is his cruelty and compassion.
The author’s women are both fearful and brave, The Indians put a fright in me coming around all the time . . . . And the noises at night — the bears and panthers. When you’re gone I can’t sleep at night without riding off on a nightmare — page 122. And we’re concerned if an armadillo digs in the daisies?
Because I grew up in south Florida and often write about it, I’m particularly hard on those who write about the state. Especially when the genre is historical fiction. I’m heavy on the “historical” part. The ten years Argo spent doing research and writing about the turbulent forty years from the 1830’s through the 1870’s has paid off in a tight tale that is loaded with well-researched historical information. Sure, I’d always heard of the “Haulover Canal,” but I thought it was named after some early pioneer. Now I know the canal replaced the figurative haul over from Mosquito Lagoon to the Indian River.
Those of us who spend time in natural Florida as opposed to . . . well, that garish place north of Orlando, can appreciate Argo’s images, Long legged ibis stalked like white wraiths in the deep shadows of live oaks — page 6. And, His enchantment with the Cape grew deeper from daily seeing the natural spectacles of this strange land . . . . his eyes were blessed by sunrises saturated with . . . . unimaginable hues — page 178.
In this exchange between Dummett the Florida Veteran and Burnham the neophyte, one learns about life before OFF: Through clenched teeth, Burnham gasped, “How come I have them (ticks) and you don’t?”
“Oh, maybe you’re just too clean . . . . ” Dummett answered cheerfully while sizzling another tick. “Or maybe it’s what I eat: garlic and onions. And the water I drink. I don’t know, but you live here long enough and they’ll avoid you like the plague. Mosquitoes too.” — page 35.
Argo treats slaves and Seminoles with respect, yet doesn’t avoid the difficult relationships and inevitable conflicts inherent in the social strata of the South in the 1800’s. The character of the half-breed beauty, Leandra, and her effect on the white community is especially well done, Certainly Burnham had seen women with a beauty to rival Leandra’s, but . . . . he could not remember when . . . . The light coloration, the emerald brilliance of her eyes, the soft Spanish accent and the . . . . attitude she seemed to hold in check — all were traits in contradiction to his experience with Negroes — page 55.
There are some minor flaws: the author and I disagree as to the efficacy of a black powder musket that has been dropped in the water. In one sequence there are enough “hell’s” used to compete with an 1800’s era fire-and-brimstone Presbyterian preacher.
In a land of incredible beauty and severity, the Cape Canaveral light is the one constant, and the author demonstrates an appreciation for and a knowledge of its heart, . . . . they carefully wiped and polished the glass lens prisms with spirits of wine . . . . cranked the windlass, tightening the coil spring that turned the lens pedestal. Engaging the pawl that drove the ratchet gear, they used a pocket watch to time the turning rate of the lens . . . . The fixed beams would now sweep the horizon in an exact time sequence. Any ship’s captain seeing the flashes would know he was seeing the Cape Canaveral lighthouse and no other — page 176.
I recommend CANAVERAL LIGHT to any reader interested in the history of natural Florida and the nature of its inhabitants.
