A Tampa Story Hiding in Plain Sight
You want to know something remarkable about Tampa history that many people walk past every day without ever knowing. A woman who was born enslaved went on to become a landowner along the Hillsborough River, right in the heart of what we now call downtown Tampa. Her name was Madame Fortune Taylor, and her story deserves more than a passing mention on a sign. She was born into slavery in South Carolina around 1825 and was later brought to Florida with Benjamin Taylor. After emancipation, they began building a life together in Tampa as free people. On May 5, 1866, Fortune and Benjamin became the second Black couple legally married in Hillsborough County. That fact alone tells you something about the time they were living in and the ground they were breaking. But marriage was only one part of their story, because this couple would also become landholders and farmers in a city that was still trying to find its identity. Their history was sitting right there beside the Hillsborough River, but like so much Black history, much of it faded from public memory. Once I started reading about Fortune Taylor, I understood why this was a rabbit hole worth going down.
Thirty-Three Acres Along the Hillsborough River
In 1868, Benjamin Taylor filed a homestead claim for approximately 33 acres on the east side of the Hillsborough River. Fortune and Benjamin worked that land together, growing oranges, guavas, peaches, and other crops. Hillsborough County describes them as being among Tampa’s early citrus farmers, which adds another important chapter to the city’s agricultural history. Think about that for a minute, because we are talking about two formerly enslaved Black people building something of their own during Reconstruction. This was not empty land somewhere far outside the city where nobody ever went. Their property stretched along an area that today includes part of the Tampa Riverwalk and northern downtown Tampa. Historical accounts also place present-day landmarks such as the Barrymore Hotel and areas near the Straz Center on or near land once connected to Fortune Taylor’s property. So when folks walk that stretch of Tampa today, they are walking through territory connected to the life of a formerly enslaved Black woman who became a property owner. Benjamin died in 1869, leaving Fortune to continue moving forward in a world that gave Black women very little room to stand. In 1875, Fortune received legal title to the homestead herself. That is the part of history I want folks to sit with, because ownership meant something mighty different for a Black woman who had once been considered property herself.
From Enslaved Woman to Landowner
There is something powerful about the transformation in Fortune Taylor’s life. She came into the world under slavery, where the law gave her virtually no control over her labor, movement, or future. Yet after freedom, she found herself holding legal title to valuable land in a growing Southern city. That was not a small achievement during Reconstruction, especially for a Black woman. Fortune also became known locally as a businesswoman, and accounts describe her selling agricultural products and other goods in the Tampa community. Some stories surrounding her life have become part of local tradition, so we have to distinguish between documented records and the stories handed down over generations. What is firmly documented is that she owned the property, worked the land, and became a respected figure in early Tampa. She eventually sold much of the acreage as the city expanded around her. But selling the land did not erase the mark she had already made upon the landscape. A street running through the property eventually carried her name. That street became Fortune Street, and before long her name would become connected to something even larger. A bridge would carry it across the Hillsborough River.
The Fortune Street Bridge
In 1892, construction began on a bridge connecting the eastern side of Tampa with the growing community that would become West Tampa. The bridge connected Fortune Street on the east side of the Hillsborough River with Arch Street on the west. It became known as the Fortune Street Bridge, carrying forward the name associated with Madame Fortune Taylor. The bridge was important because it helped improve transportation between Tampa and the developing cigar-manufacturing district of West Tampa. Hillsborough County records say the bridge helped encourage the growth of the cigar industry and the development of West Tampa. That means Fortune Taylor’s name became attached to a crossing that helped shape the economic development of the city. Think about the significance of that during an era when Black women were routinely written out of official histories. A woman who had once been enslaved had her name attached to one of Tampa’s important transportation connections. The original bridge did not survive forever, and another bridge was later constructed in the same general location. Over time, street changes and development caused people to begin referring to the crossing as the Laurel Street Bridge. Little by little, Fortune Taylor’s name slipped away from the landmark. And when the name disappeared, a piece of her story disappeared with it.
How a Name Gets Lost
History does not always disappear because somebody tears a page out of a book. Sometimes it disappears because a street gets renamed, a neighborhood gets redeveloped, or a new generation never learns who came before them. That appears to be what happened with Fortune Taylor. As Tampa expanded and roads were realigned, the bridge became commonly known by another street name. Historical accounts connect the change particularly to urban development and highway construction during the twentieth century. Folks could drive over the river and never know that the crossing had once carried the name of a formerly enslaved Black woman. They could walk beside the river and never understand that some of the land around them had once belonged to her. A city can preserve buildings and still lose memories. It can preserve roads and bridges while forgetting the human stories beneath them. That is one reason local Black history matters so much to me. We cannot understand what a place really is if we only tell the stories of the people whose names were easiest to preserve. Fortune Taylor had already earned her place in Tampa history. The real question was whether Tampa would remember her.
Her Name Comes Back
In 2017, Tampa City Council acted to restore Fortune Taylor’s name to the bridge. Hillsborough County now recognizes the crossing as the Fortune Taylor Bridge, and the City of Tampa lists it among the movable bridges it maintains over the Hillsborough River. A historical marker was also erected in 2018 near West Laurel Street and Doyle Carlton Drive describing Fortune and Benjamin Taylor’s story. Restoring the name did more than change lettering on a sign. It restored a connection between the physical landscape and the Black woman whose life helped shape that landscape. Fortune Taylor died in 1906, long before Tampa became the modern city we know today. She could not have imagined the Riverwalk, the hotels, the performing arts center, the highways, and the towers that would rise around the ground she once knew. Yet pieces of her story remained underneath all that development. Her land became city blocks, her street became part of Tampa’s transportation history, and her name became attached once again to the river crossing. Sometimes restoring history begins with something as simple and powerful as putting somebody’s name back where it belongs.
Summary
Madame Fortune Taylor was born enslaved and lived long enough to become a free woman, farmer, businesswoman, and Tampa landowner. She and Benjamin Taylor became the second Black couple legally married in Hillsborough County in 1866. Together they worked approximately 33 acres along the Hillsborough River. Their property covered land connected to what is now downtown Tampa and portions of today’s Riverwalk. A street through the area was named Fortune Street in her honor. The bridge that connected the area to West Tampa became known as the Fortune Street Bridge. That crossing helped support transportation and the growth of Tampa’s cigar industry. Over the decades, Fortune Taylor’s name faded from the bridge as streets and neighborhoods changed. Tampa restored her name to the bridge in 2017. Today, her story stands as a reminder that Black history is often lying right underneath the places we think we already know.
Conclusion
The next time somebody walks Tampa’s Riverwalk or crosses the Fortune Taylor Bridge, I hope they stop and think about the woman behind that name. She had once lived in a country where she herself could be treated as property, yet she survived to own property of her own. She planted crops on land beside the Hillsborough River and built a life after slavery. She lived through emancipation, Reconstruction, widowhood, business, and tremendous change. Her name became part of Tampa, disappeared from public view, and eventually found its way home again. That is not just Black history. That is Tampa history. It is American history. And it is exactly the kind of history that can be hiding in plain sight while thousands of people walk right past it every day. Sometimes all we have to do is look a little closer.