Friday, April 03, 2026

Remembering the Holy Thursday Agreement for Historic Preservation, April 13, 2017


Mediator Terrence Edward Schmidt, a former U.S. Navy weapons officer, who helped Florida Bar disbar F. Lee Bailey..

Big victory in 2017.  

Faster than a speeding dump truck, what we know and love in St. Augustine and St, Johns County is being demolished,  I convinced our Historic Architectural Review Board to declare the 1880 Victorian a local historic landmark.  The City of St. Augustine City Commission affirmed it, 4-1 (Vice Mayor "Odd Todd" Neville, dissenting).  Then the applicant requested a 70.51 mediation.  The historic Victorian, Wisteria House, was saved, from demolition.  Yes we did.  Yes we can!

The 1880 Victorian home on Grenada Street, across from City Hall, was moved and saved.  It is now a restaurant (Lobstah on a Roll) and one or two apartments.  

We, the People triumphed over the formidable feculent fascist forces that seek to destroy our history and nature here in St. Augustine and St. Johns County.   

Longtime locals, including former County Commissioner Isaac Henry Dean, and me, call St. Johns County "God's country."

It takes a village.

I wrote on this blog that day:


Thursday, April 13, 2017

IT TAKES A VILLAGE TO SAVE A VILLAGE, AND ONE SPECIAL VICTORIAN

The lovely historic home at 32 Grenada Street will be preserved by mediated settlement, subject to City Commission approval. KUDOS to the participants in today's successful mediation before Terrance Edward Schmidt, including Lee Geanuleas, U.S.N. (Ret.), Melinda Rakoncay, Trey Asner, B.J. Kalaidi, St. Augustine City Manager John Patrick Regan, P.E., Assistant City Attorney Denise May, Planning and Building Director David Birchim, Historic Presevation Director Jenny Wolfe, 32 Grenada Street (now called WISTERIA HOUSE) building owner Louis John Arbizzani and lawyer Sidney Franklyn Ansbacher of Upchurch, Bailey & Upchurch.

The St. Augustine Record was not there. So much for its bragging Palm Sunday house ad, in which it claimed to cover the news in City Hall, while attacking blogs.

I was there, taking copious notes (almost half a legal pad) and helping our City secure the victory for historic preservation.

WISTERIA HOUSE, will be preserved and moved one lot to the south to a lot where the current building has an authorized demolition permit. There will eventually be town homes built on the adjacent lots. The City will not pay to move WISTERIA HOUSE.

The marathon seven hour session was anxiously awaited by local residents who say, "enough is enough" when it comes to preserving and protecting our history and nature in St. Augustine, Florida.

It takes a village to save what County Commission Vice Chair Henry Dean has called "our village."

Today we saved a building. 

Each of the 63+ public interest victories here since June 2005 represents a tribute to the character of our community, and the cooperation of people who love St. Augustine. Like any good diplomats, we will not take "no" as if it were an answer.

From this day forward, our City officials know they are empowered to declare buildings local landmarks, and halt the damn demolition derby perpetrated by the likes of FLAGLER COLLEGE, FLORIDA SCHOOL FOR THE DEAF AND BLIND, and assorted sordid "developers" (read: speculators).























From this blog, from April 20, 2017:


32 Grenada Street, forever declared a local landmark after LOUIS JOHN ARBIZZANI demanded demolition permit

Did you read interesting St. Augustine Record article, five (5) days after our successful mediation preserving 32 Grenada Street (Wisteria House)? Northern Ireland has its "Good Friday Agreement," making the peace among warring tribes of Catholics and Protestants. Will April 13, 2017 go down in history as St. Augustine's "Holy Thursday Agreement," freighted with meaning?  Will the Holy Thursday agreement mark the beginning of true historic preservation, stopping the wrecking crews and demolition derby of our historic homes, nature and culture in the Nation's Oldest City? 

Each of the 63+ public interest victories here since June 2005 represents a tribute to the character of our community, and the cooperation of people who love St. Augustine. Like any good diplomats, we will not take "no" as if it were an answer.

From this day forward, our citizens and City officials know they are empowered to declare buildings local landmarks, and halt the damn demolition derby perpetrated by the likes of FLAGLER COLLEGE, FLORIDA SCHOOL FOR THE DEAF AND BLIND, and assorted sordid "developers" (read: speculators).

What do you reckon?


Posted April 18, 2017 12:02 am
By SHELDON GARDNER sheldon.gardner@staugustine.com

Local landmark in St. Augustine to be restored under agreement


The house at 32 Granada St. in St. Augustine, recently named a local landmark, appears to have been saved from destruction.

Attorneys for both the city and John Arbizzani, property owner, met recently to resolve the building’s future. The plan now is for the building to be restored, said Denise May, assistant city attorney.

The main issue had been whether the late 19th century building is historically significant. Some have pointed to its Victorian style and former residents as reasons to keep it.

Arbizzani, whose team contested the building’s significance, wanted to demolish it so he could develop the property, but residents pushed back.

The Historic Architectural Review Board named the building a local landmark in September, which gave board members the option of denying demolition. The City Commission upheld the landmark designation in January.

After that, the city and Arbizzani went into dispute resolution, which avoids a potentially costly court battle.

“The city’s position was to save the structure,” May said. “That was our goal and we met that goal.”

May said complete details about the agreement will be available in a couple of weeks from the special magistrate who oversaw the case, but she shared some highlights. Once the language is fine-tuned, the agreement will go to the City Commission for a vote, she said.

Under the agreement, the house will not only be saved, but also will be restored, she said. The building will be moved to the lot just south so more parking can be developed. Arbizzani will pay for moving the house, May said.

The city plans to create and manage the added parking spaces and take in revenue to cover the cost, she said. The city already leases land from Arbizzani for the parking lot just north of 32 Granada St.

Arbizzani could develop 32 Granada St. into a commercial venture under its zoning of Commercial Low-One. Under the agreement, the city will also defer the cost of utility connection for 10 years, she said.

Spanish Colonial-style townhomes are another option discussed for the site, said Lee Geanuleas, a city resident who attended the dispute resolution meeting.

He voiced concern about the possibility of townhomes and their compatibility with that slice of town. And while he’s also worried about the stability of the house when it is moved, Geanuleas called the agreement a “reasonably good outcome.”

Neither Arbizzani nor his attorney responded to a request for comment.

Of the history that people touted when trying to save the building, artist Antonio Vedovelli was one of the main figures.

Vedovelli retired in St. Augustine and starting painting in the 1920s, developing “a highly personal folk style often described as primitive or naive,” according to a book on Florida paintings called “Reflections” by Garry Libby. His paintings include one of the Ponce de Leon Hotel (now Flagler College) in the 1940s.

An army sergeant who was on his honeymoon bought one of Vedovelli’s paintings, and that connection led Vedovelli to show his work at the Perls Galleries in New York, according to the book.

“Antonio Vedovelli’s reputation soared after the exhibition, allowing him to purchase a large house at 32 Granada Street in St. Augustine,” according to the book.

Melinda Rakoncay, a city resident who also went to the meeting, said she was happy to see the city stand up for the property and its status as a landmark.

“To see our city staff going to bat for [the property], that made me feel really good about the city,” she said.

Palm Sunday Was a Protest, Not a Procession. (Fr. Andrew Thayer, New York Times, April 13, 2025)

Good column by an Episcopal priest and M.Phil. candidate, Fr. Andrew Thayer:  


GUEST ESSAY

Palm Sunday Was a Protest, Not a Procession

An illustration of Jesus riding into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday, superimposed over the silhouettes of protesters holding signs.
Credit...Ricardo Tomás
Listen to this article · 7:12 min Learn more

On Sunday, in cities around the world, Christians begin Holy Week by celebrating Palm Sunday, when Jesus entered Jerusalem for the final time before his death and resurrection. To mark the day, Christians recreate Jesus’ procession, often starting outside churches and winding down sidewalks and city streets waving palm branches.

Celebrations like this often miss an uncomfortable truth about Jesus’ procession: At the time, it was a deliberate act of theological and political confrontation. It wasn’t just pageantry; it was protest.

On that first Palm Sunday, there was another procession entering Jerusalem. From the west came Pontius Pilate, the Roman governor, riding a warhorse and flanked by armed soldiers bedecked in the full pageantry of an oppressive empire. Every year during Passover, a Jewish festival celebrating liberation from Egyptian oppression and slavery, Pilate entered Jerusalem to suppress any unrest set off by that memory.

His arrival wasn’t ceremonial; it was tactical — a calculated show of force, what the Pentagon might now call “shock and awe.” It displayed not only Rome’s power but also Rome’s theology. Caesar was not just the emperor; he was deified and called “Son of a God” on coins and inscriptions. His rule was absolute, and the peace it promised came through coercion, domination and the threat of violence.

From the opposite direction, both literally and figuratively, came Jesus’ procession.

Jesus entered the city not on a warhorse but on a donkey, not with battalions but with beggars. His followers were peasants, fishermen, women and children — people without standing or status. They waved palm branches — symbols of Jewish resistance to occupation since the Maccabean revolt — and cried out “Hosanna!” which means “Save us.” Save us from a system of oppression disguised as order. Save us from those who tacitly endorse greed with pious language and prayers.

Jesus’ procession should be seen as a parody of imperial power: a deliberate mockery of Roman spectacle and a prophetic enactment of a kingdom not built on violence but on justice.

The next day, Jesus walked into the Temple, the heart of Jerusalem’s religious and economic life, and flipped the tables in the marketplace, which he described as “a den of robbers.” The Temple wasn’t just a house of prayer. It was a financial engine, operated by complicit leaders under the constraints and demands of the occupying empire. Jesus shuts it down. This is what gets him killed.

Jesus wasn’t killed for preaching love, or healing the sick, or discussing theology routinely debated in the Temple’s courtyards, or blasphemy (the punishment for which was stoning). Rome didn’t crucify philosophers or miracle workers. Rome crucified insurrectionists. The sign nailed above his head — “King of the Jews” — was a political indictment and public warning. Like with the killing of the prophets before him, the message sent with Jesus’s death was that those who demand justice will inevitably find themselves crushed.

Sound familiar?

We, too, live in the shadow of empire. Ours doesn’t speak Latin or wear togas, but its logic is familiar. Our economy prioritizes the 1 percent and puts corporate profits over worker dignity. Our laws enforce inequality in the criminal justice system, education and health care. Our military-industrial complex would be the envy of Rome. We extract, exploit, incarcerate, and we call it “law and order.”

And just like in Jesus’ day, political leaders defend this arrangement while religious leaders bless it. As the French writer Frédéric Bastiat warned, “When plunder becomes a way of life for a group of men in a society, over the course of time they create for themselves a legal system that authorizes it and a moral code that glorifies it.” That was true in first-century Jerusalem. It remains true today.

Since the 1980s, movements like the Moral Majority and the Christian Coalition, and more recently, the New Apostolic Reformation, have not challenged the empire but rather sought to commandeer it. The Seven Mountain Mandate urges Christians to seize control of key sectors of society, including government, business, education and media. This is not a movement seeking to interrogate or challenge the injustice of empire. Quite the opposite. It is an ideology — a hunger for power and dominion — cloaked in pious language and baptized in the logic of empire. This is Christian nationalism in a nutshell.

Remember, Rome did not begin as an empire; it began as a republic. But over time, it ceded power to the few, tolerating cruelty, corruption and the consolidation of control, so long as it came wrapped in the promise of peace and prosperity. The emperor became both ruler and redeemer, venerated not for moral clarity but for the illusion of restored national greatness.

The false promise offered to both Romans and the people they conquered was that Caesar was divine — a chosen one, a lord. Today, Donald Trump is often cast in eerily similar terms by Christian nationalists: not as a moral leader, but as a figure who will deliver prosperity, protection, and cultural dominance, at least for a select few. To defy him, in this worldview, is not just to reject a man, but to reject a kind of sacred order. That impulse is not new. It is as old as Pilate’s procession.

But Jesus never sought to replace Caesar with a Christian Caesar. He came to dismantle the very logic of Caesar: the belief that might makes right, peace comes through violence and politics is best wielded through fear, coercion and control. Instead, he inaugurated a counter-kingdom that aspires to loving kindness, radical welcome, mercy and justice — a kingdom where the vulnerable and the poor are lifted up, and the idols of empire are exposed as frauds.

Waving palms on Palm Sunday connects us to justice, public life, discourse and action. We cannot remain silent on behalf of those who genuinely cry out “Hosanna … Save us.” At some point, we have to make a choice about the Jesus we claim to follow. Either he didn’t care about the poor, the marginalized and the oppressed — in which case we’ve built our religion on a hollow figure. Or he did care, deeply, and we’ve chosen to ignore that part because it challenges our comfort, our politics and our priorities.

Scripture’s power isn’t in magic or miracle, but in its witness, of people who loved boldly, acted justly, spoke truth to power, resisted empire and hoped defiantly in the face of despair. It is deeply relevant to modern life. The Resurrection, which Christians celebrate one week from Sunday, is not the reversal of Christ’s crucifixion. It is its vindication. It declares that even when the empire kills truth, truth still rises. That even when justice is crucified, it does not stay buried. The Caesars among us don’t get the final word.

Andrew Thayer is a D.Phil. candidate in theology at the University of Oxford and an Episcopal priest who has served parishes in the United States and England for over 20 years.

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