HARLEM HEIGHTS, Fla. — This Black History Month, Fox 4 will celebrate the achievements that have shaped communities across Southwest Florida.
In February, our community correspondents will connect with community trailblazers and changemakers. We'll share stories that honor Black influence, excellence and leadership.
In the late 1960s, when a house fire threatened to spread through the close-knit community of Harlem Heights in Fort Myers, people faced a harsh reality: help was too far away. The nearest fire department was miles down unpaved roads with no street signs, and by the time firefighters arrived, entire blocks of wooden homes could be lost.
Watch Fort Myers Community Correspondent Miyoshi Price's report:
But the Black migrant workers and families who called this farming community home refused to accept that fate. Instead, they did what they had always done – they came together to solve the problem themselves.
"It was one of the first real coming together as a community," said Carroll Stewart, whose father, Charles Stewart, was among the volunteer firefighters. "It kind of signified that, hey, we are a bonafide community now. We have our own volunteer fire department."
The all-Black volunteer fire department of Harlem Heights operated from the late 1960s through the mid-1970s, serving a community that had grown from a seasonal migrant worker camp into a permanent settlement. Today, only two of those brave volunteers are alive.
A community born from necessity
Harlem Heights began as a camp for migrant workers who came to Southwest Florida during farming season to work the vegetable fields that dominated the landscape. Over time, more families stayed year-round, creating a tight-knit community where "everybody knew everybody," according to Carroll Stewart.
The area was considered "the country" compared to Fort Myers, surrounded by farmland with dirt roads and wooden homes topped with tin roofs. When fires broke out, people had to rely on bucket brigades and garden hoses while waiting for help that might arrive too late.
"The homes were decades old, and they didn't have treated wood like they have now," Carroll explained. "It was just untreated wood, and it was dry. And if one home went up, it would have just went down the line."
The breaking point came when a house fire threatened to spread through the neighborhood. Neighbors threw buckets of water and used garden hoses, doing everything they could to prevent the flames from jumping to neighboring homes.
The solution takes shape
The idea for a volunteer fire department began in Joe Stewart's store, which served as the unofficial community center – much like the general store in the old TV show "Petticoat Junction," his nephew, Carroll Stewart, recalled.
Joe Stewart, Charles Stewart's brother, worked with community leader Duera Mae Everett and fire inspectors from Lee County to find a solution. Carroll Stewart said the county agreed to donate a used fire truck that needed repairs, and the community's mechanics volunteered to get it running.
"Joe got with fire inspectors, and we would have different people from Lee County coming through his store," Carroll Stewart said. "That's where it all started. That's where the idea started."
Joe Stewart donated both the land and building for the firehouse, telling county officials: "If you give us a fire engine, I'll donate the land, I'll donate the house to put it in."
Men who answered the call
When the call went out for volunteers, the men of Harlem Heights stepped forward. Charles Stewart joined alongside neighbors including Jack Jenkins, Thomas Jenkins, Paul Jenkins, H. "Yunk" Frederick, and others – about 10 or 11 volunteers in total.
"They were all family men," Carroll Stewart remembered. "It was a lot of families here in Harlem at the time. The fathers in the community did all that they could to make sure that they grew a community for their families, for their kids."
The volunteers underwent training with the county fire department, learning to operate the truck and basic firefighting techniques. When emergency calls came in, they would rush to the firehouse, slap a red light on top of their cars, and respond as quickly as any professional department.
"You could see the pride in the community," Carroll Stewart said. "You could sense that there was some sense of community, camaraderie and pride."
Chief Nehemiah Allen led the department – a tall, imposing man with a deep voice reminiscent of James Earl Jones, according to those who knew him.
A legacy of service
Opal Stewart, who was married to Charles Stewart for 65 years until his death in 2023, witnessed the pride these men brought to their community. She had lived in Harlem Heights her entire life, watching it transform from farmland to a established neighborhood.
"We had a lot of good black men in the community, good role models, worked hard, did everything that they could to support their family, support the dreams of their kids," Carroll Stewart said.
The volunteer fire department represented something larger than emergency response – it embodied the community's spirit of self-reliance and mutual support that had sustained them through the Jim Crow era.
"We didn't depend on the city. We didn't depend on others to do for us what we could do for ourselves," Carroll Stewart explained. "If you needed something, somebody within the community would help."
The end of an era
By the mid-1970s, the volunteer fire department's mission was largely complete. Habitat for Humanity had begun building concrete block homes to replace the old wooden structures. Streets were paved and properly marked. The county fire department had moved closer, reducing response times.
The aging fire truck became increasingly difficult to maintain as replacement parts grew scarce. The volunteers had served their purpose – they had protected their community during a critical transition period and helped it grow into a more established neighborhood.
Carroll said some of the volunteers joined the nearby Iona-McGregor Fire Department when the Harlem Heights department disbanded, continuing their service in a new capacity.
Preserving the legacy
Carroll said only Jack Jenkins and Hen Frederick are alive from the original group of volunteers. The firehouse that Joe Stewart donated now serves as the Gladiolus Food Pantry, continuing the tradition of community service.
For the Stewart family, preserving this history is crucial for future generations.
"Our history, our sense of who we are is in our history," Carroll said. "History helps us plan for the future. For kids now, understanding that history gives them a sense of who they are, where they belong, a sense of pride that, as a people, we overcame a lot."
The story of Harlem Heights' volunteer fire department represents more than emergency response – it's a testament to what communities can accomplish when neighbors come together to solve problems and care for one another.
"When there was something that needed to be done, we got together as a community to make sure that we took care of our community," Carroll reflected. "There was a sense that somebody in the community was there to help you. Somebody in the community cared."
This story was reported on-air by a journalist and has been converted to this platform with the assistance of AI. Our editorial team verifies all reporting on all platforms for fairness and accuracy.
