Imagine two towns, not rivals but siblings, breathing the same Florida air. Welcome to Capulet and Montague, sister communities in Marion County. The names might ring some Shakespearean bells, but don’t let that fool ya—it’s not a tale of feuding families.
Local historian Sybil Browne Bray’s 1985 publication gave us a peek into the origins of these towns. The names were gifted by S.S. Savage, a man who deeply admired Shakespeare. Savage’s grandson, Charles Savage Jr., revealed that these names stuck around thanks to his grandfather’s love for the bard.
Now, while Charles Savage III was sure his father was born in Capulet, he couldn’t crack the code on why his grandfather picked those particular names. It’s another layer to this captivating little mystery in Florida’s past. Perhaps it was just a whimsical nod to literature; perhaps there’s more to it. History can be pretty quirky like that.
The Enigmatic Remnants of Capulet
Capulet had a simplicity worth imagining: a church and a school, but strangely, there was no post office. It’s an odd setup, right? Residents had to stroll over to Montague, which was about a mile away, to collect their mail. Interesting twist: Montague was mostly a Black settlement, a rich part of the story that often goes overlooked.
Now, you won’t find Capulet on any maps. Its whereabouts are more of a mystery than an exact science. But the Capulet Cemetery gives us some vital clues. Tucked near State Road 464 and Baseline Road, it’s like the ghost town’s only breadcrumb.
In 1928, a tornado ripped through the area and took a church for a wild ride. Eyewitnesses claimed that while the church was hurled hundreds of feet, the pews, and the Bible on the pulpit stayed mysteriously intact. Talk about a wild story!
These bits and pieces make Capulet feel like a place lost in time. You can’t help but wonder who lived there and what life was like. It’s the charm of ghost towns—they leave you with just enough to keep your curiosity alive.
For more details on Capulet and Montague ghost towns, please watch my video below:
A Forgotten Chapter of Florida’s History
Walking through the Capulet Cemetery, you can’t help but feel the weight of history. The cemetery sits quietly in the woods, a serene and slightly eerie spot. There’s this illusion that it’s larger than it seems, mainly because most graves are unmarked.
It raises questions: How many unmarked graves lie beneath the soil? Where exactly did the old church stand? Was Capulet really no bigger than a city block? These mysteries sprinkle a bit of intrigue into what seems like an ordinary place.
The cemetery has experienced some rough times—sections of the fence have been knocked down, probably by storms or fallen branches. Nature has had its way with many graves, some covered by decades of growth. Yet, you also find newer graves and those of veterans, blending past with present.
Sifting through all of this, it’s a bit sad. Capulet feels like a nearly forgotten chapter in Florida’s history, with the cemetery as one of the few witnesses left. It’s a sobering reminder of how easily a place can slip through the cracks of time. So, as you walk the grounds, take a moment to honor those who came before, even if they’re little more than a name on a stone. It’s a small chance to connect with Florida’s past, almost lost to the tides of time.
To see all of the pictures I took in Capulet, click here.
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