Local History
The Gang’s All Here
Over the years, while Vero Beach has been become home to thousands of solid citizens, it appears that it was also home to a few bad apples of the gangster variety also walked our streets decades ago. “Entrepreneurs” John J. Williams and Harry Roberts leased what would later become the Ocean Grill, but they hailed from the Chicago nightclub scene and its organized crime-affiliated gambling establishments.
Growing Champions
The National Register of Champion Trees, a program that began in 1940, recognizes extraordinary trees for what they are: champions. Four trees have been recognized locally, two at McKee Botanical Garden and two inside the city limits in Vero Beach, and Nanette Haynes, the city’s ground maintenance manager, wants you to look for more.
Outlining the Inlet
It's hard to imagine a time when the Sebastian Inlet didn't connect the Indian River Lagoon to the Atlantic Ocean. Today's peaceful waters belie the inlet's storied past.
Love Links Two Legacies
The MacWilliam-Sexton union is one of those “happily ever after” tales that began a century ago when their great-grandfathers, Waldo Sexton and Alex MacWilliam Sr., put down roots in Indian River County.
Watchmen, SEALs and Gardens
Naval Air Station Vero Beach prepared pilots for the Pacific theater.
Sartorial Sisters
Melinda started Cooper & Co. 33 years ago, and Nancie bought Sigrid’s of Vero — without inventory — 27 years ago and made it her own.
The Lost Tribe of Indian River
At their peak, the Ais people fished and hunted, made pottery and tools, and even salvaged treasure — all in what is today the Vero Beach area.
The Power of Potential
“We realize this is where people live and work, and they want it to be part of their home. That’s what we want for this project.”
Living History
I arrived in Vero Beach with my parents, Kit and Sis Johnson, at age 3 in 1936.
Hitting Home
It can take the better part of a lifetime to fully embrace your legacy, especially such a storied one as Sharon Robinson’s.
Yamato’s Legacy
Today, there appears to be no trace of either the beaverboard camel or its antlers. Nevertheless, without either one, Boca Raton has become a thriving, vital community in one of the most developed population centers of the state.