Ortona Mounds (Glades County, Florida)

History of the Ortona Mounds

Early Documentation and Surveys (19th – Early 20th Century)

The archaeological significance of the Ortona site was first noted in the 19th century. Early American surveyors in the early 1800s encountered the earthworks at Ortona and mistakenly believed they were Spanish colonial fortifications . By the 1880s, scholars had begun to recognize the indigenous origin of these features. A Smithsonian Institution report in 1882 described the extensive canals near Ortona, and one of the first published accounts of the mounds appeared in The American Antiquarian in 1887 . This brief 1887 notice (“Mounds in Florida”) documented large artificial embankments and canals in the Lake Okeechobee region, bringing Ortona to the attention of the nascent archaeological community.

In the early 20th century, several scientists visited and recorded the Ortona mounds. Physical anthropologist Aleš Hrdli?ka visited the site in 1918 and included a description in his The Anthropology of Florida (1922) . Hrdli?ka noted multiple earthworks and gave early measurements of the principal mound, describing it as approximately 160 by 130 feet at the base and 30 feet high . Botanist John Kunkel Small also traversed the Lake Okeechobee region in the 1910s–1920s, documenting sites like Ortona in his travel narratives. Small’s 1923 account remarks on the network of ancient canals and earthworks he observed cutting across the scrub and prairie, evidence of “a once extensive artificial landscape” in the Everglades region . By the 1930s, archaeologist Henry B. Collins of the Smithsonian had inspected Ortona as well, and in 1940 John W. Griffin (later Florida’s State Archaeologist) compiled surveys of the Ortona mounds and canals . These early descriptions, though brief, established the presence of a major prehistoric center at Ortona long before formal excavations took place.

John Mann Goggin of the University of Florida was the first to undertake archaeological excavations at Ortona. In 1952, Goggin and his students opened test trenches in one of the large mounds . He documented multiple mounds and assigned individual site numbers to components of the complex (e.g. 8GL4, 8GL5, etc.) in the state site file system . Goggin’s notes indicate that the site covered roughly 40–50 acres and included at least 20 mounds or earthwork features connected by linear ditches and canals. His 1952 excavations in the main mound (8GL5) revealed stratified sand deposits and artifacts suggesting a long occupation, though Goggin did not fully publish his findings at the time. Nonetheless, by the mid-20th century it was clear to archaeologists that Ortona was a prehistoric town of substantial size, featuring engineered canals and earthworks unique in North America .

Montague Tallant’s Excavations and the Ortona Gold Artifacts (1930s)

One of the most dramatic chapters in Ortona’s history came from the activities of Montague Tallant, an amateur archaeologist and collector active in the 1930s. Tallant, a Bradenton-based furniture dealer with a passion for Florida’s past, led excavations at Ortona around 1930. Using a hand-drawn map, Tallant recorded a striking zig-zag earthwork at the site that he interpreted as a massive “serpent mound”, consisting of three linear segments ending in a V-shaped “head.” At the terminus of this serpent-shaped embankment was a U-shaped burial mound about 5½ feet tall. Tallant excavated this U-shaped mound in his quest for artifacts, reportedly uncovering numerous grave goods before the mound was completely destroyed in the process . His 1930 sketch map – the first of its kind – shows features that later surveys sometimes missed, including the winding “serpent” embankment and associated mounds .

Most importantly, Montague Tallant’s diggings at Ortona yielded an extraordinary collection of prehistoric gold and metal artifacts. Among the items Tallant reportedly unearthed from Ortona’s mounds were finely crafted objects of gold, silver, copper, and an unusual gold-copper alloy known as tumbaga . Two artifacts in particular have become famous. The first is a small gold figurine – possibly depicting a panther or jaguar – with delicate features. Remarkably, the back of this animal figurine is decorated with a cross-in-circle motif, a symbol known from native Southeastern iconography . The second notable piece is a hollow gold/tumbaga pendant in the form of a bird (perhaps an owl) with three tiny bells dangling from it, described as a “turtle shell effigy” pendant . Both of these items are artistically sophisticated and unlike typical Florida artifacts. Tallant himself wondered about their origins, and through his friend Matthew Stirling (director of the Smithsonian’s Bureau of American Ethnology) he contacted Harvard archaeologist Samuel K. Lothrop for an opinion . In 1940 Lothrop compared Tallant’s finds to collections from Latin America and noted similarities to Pre-Columbian goldwork from Colombia and southern Mexico . Indeed, chemical analyses of the Ortona gold (initiated by Stirling in 1935) detected trace platinum, consistent with Colombian alluvial gold . One pendant was identified as virtually identical to Mixtec (Postclassic Maya) gold turtle-shell pendants from Oaxaca, further indicating a Mesoamerican origin . Rather than evidence of direct contact, archaeologists conclude these exotic treasures were obtained by Florida’s natives via Spanish shipwreck salvage or trade during the early contact era . The Florida Indians of the 16th century, likely the Calusa or their allies, apparently repurposed Old World gold and Pre-Columbian ornaments as heirlooms, sometimes cold-hammering them into new forms and other times preserving them unaltered if the object fit native symbolic systems . For example, the gold jaguar figurine’s cross-in-circle motif and the bird effigy pendant resonated with existing religious iconography in Florida (jaguar or panther motifs and bird symbols), so these items were kept intact as sacred objects .

Montague Tallant’s Ortona excavations, though crude by modern standards, thus recovered some of the most spectacular artifacts ever found in Florida. Realizing the significance of his trove, Tallant painstakingly catalogued his collection by site, noting provenience for many items . In the late 1930s, needing funds, Tallant sold his entire collection (containing artifacts from at least 169 sites across Florida) to the Bradenton Junior Chamber of Commerce, under the stipulation that it stay in the region . This assemblage became the foundation of the South Florida Museum (now the Bishop Museum of Science and Nature in Bradenton) when it opened in 1948 . To this day, the Bishop Museum’s “Montague Tallant Collection” preserves the Ortona gold figurine, pendant, and dozens of other items Tallant recovered from Ortona’s mounds . Ongoing research into this collection has continued to yield insights. For instance, archaeologist Jeffrey Mitchem (who has analyzed the Tallant Collection) noted that Ortona and a nearby site (Nicodemus mound, also in Glades Co.) contained the largest quantity of metal artifacts from any Florida sites – underscoring Ortona’s role as a repository of prestige goods in late prehistoric times . While Tallant never published formal reports, his correspondence and catalog have allowed scholars to integrate his discoveries into the broader picture of Ortona. In retrospect, Tallant’s finds demonstrated that South Florida aboriginal societies had far-reaching connections (albeit indirect) and that Ortona was a place where distant luxuries found their final resting place. The ethical context is sobering, however: Tallant’s digging destroyed archaeological context (e.g. the U-shaped burial mound was largely razed ), a loss of information impossible to recover. His legacy is a double-edged one – a remarkable collection obtained at the cost of site integrity. Fortunately, professional archaeologists soon followed, bringing modern methods to the study of Ortona’s features.

Archaeological Research and Excavations (1990s – 2000s)

After sporadic attention throughout the mid-20th century, Ortona became the focus of intensive archaeological research in the late 1980s and 1990s. In 1989, Glades County established the Ortona Indian Mound Park, protecting a 40-acre portion of the site and spurring new investigations . The Archaeological and Historical Conservancy (a non-profit based in Florida) under archaeologist Robert S. Carr launched a series of excavations and surveys in the early 1990s. Carr and colleagues conducted comprehensive mapping of the earthworks, dug test trenches, and obtained radiocarbon dates – work culminating in a landmark report published in 1995. In their article “Archaeological Investigations at the Ortona Earthworks and Mounds,” Carr, David Dickel and Marilyn Masson detailed the site’s layout and stratigraphy . They recorded multiple mound types: rectangular platform mounds, elongated “loaf-shaped” mounds, circular midden mounds, and linear embankments, as well as at least two engineered canals connecting the site to nearby waterways .

Notably, one large linear mound (Mound B or “Great Mound”) had been previously described as loaf-like and about 500 feet long, but was largely destroyed by mid-20th century mining . Carr’s team found only remnant sections of these features. Their stratigraphic excavations in Mound A (one of the best-preserved mounds, about 125 feet across and 8 feet tall) confirmed it was a habitation mound (midden), with dark organic soil, animal bones, and artifacts throughout . In contrast, Mound D – an enormous ridge measuring roughly 500 feet by 70 feet – appeared to be an engineered causeway or platform, with signs of ramps and possible paired “conical” terminus mounds at either end (seen in 1940s aerial photos) . Unfortunately, Mound D had been severely bulldozed by the 1990s, but Carr witnessed part of its destruction and noted that the upper 1 m contained dense organic sand and pottery, evidence of human activity or structures on the mound’s summit . These findings suggested that Ortona’s mounds served varied functions – some as refuse middens accumulated under villages, others as deliberate constructions for ceremony or residence. Radiocarbon dates obtained in the 1990s placed initial mound construction around A.D. 300–400, with major occupation phases between A.D. 500 and 800 , aligning with the Late Woodland period in Florida (often identified as the Belle Glade culture in this Lake Okeechobee region).

A key focus of 1990s work was the canal system at Ortona. The site lies about 3 miles north of the Caloosahatchee River (which, before modern dredging, was separated from Lake Okeechobee by a series of small lakes and rapids) . The prehistoric inhabitants excavated at least two long canals to link Ortona’s locale on a natural creek (Turkey Creek) southward to the Caloosahatchee and eastward toward Lake Okeechobee. Ryan J. Wheeler, then a State Archaeologist, studied the hydrology of these canals and published “The Ortona Canals: Aboriginal Canal Hydraulics and Engineering” in 1995 . Wheeler’s analysis showed the canals were broad (?20–30 ft across) but relatively shallow (?3–4 ft deep), and carefully graded to manage water flow . One canal ran east–west for ~4 miles, while a second ran north–south ~3 miles, together forming a triangle with the river as the base . At the apex of this triangle was Ortona’s main village area. These canals allowed dugout canoes to bypass the rapids of the Caloosahatchee, effectively creating a cross-Florida inland waterway . In the mid-1990s, Carr’s team dug trenches across one canal segment to gather dating evidence. Logs and organic matter from the canal’s base yielded radiocarbon dates centering around A.D. 250 . This extraordinary result, published by Carr, Jorge Zamanillo and Jim Pepe in The Florida Anthropologist in 2002, demonstrated that Ortona’s inhabitants were undertaking large-scale engineering over 1,700 years ago . It made the Ortona canal system the oldest known artificial canal network in North America (significantly earlier than other prehistoric canals in the U.S.) . As Carr noted, prior to this work archaeologists had assumed such extensive canals in Florida dated to much later centuries of the late prehistoric or contact period . The new evidence “provided the smoking gun” (in the words of Dr. James A. Brown of Northwestern University) that an indigenous Florida culture contemporaneous with the Middle Woodland Hopewell culture was capable of monumental architecture and engineering . Indeed, the calibrated dates for Ortona’s main canal (~A.D. 200–400) place its construction squarely within the Hopewell Interaction Sphere timeframe, suggesting that Florida’s interior wetlands participated in the broader Hopewell-era network of trade and shared ideas .

In addition to canals, the 1990s investigations uncovered other geometric constructions at Ortona. One remarkable discovery was a 450-foot-long rectangular pond with straight sides, located near the main village. This basin, about 4 feet deep, was found to be a man-made pond rather than a natural feature . Its shape – essentially a long, narrow rectangle with rounded ends – was compared to a ceremonial mace or baton. In native Eastern Woodlands iconography, the mace (or scepter) is a symbol of authority and the cosmos, often associated with the sun. Radiocarbon dating indicates the Ortona “Baton Pond” was constructed around A.D. 700 , after the main canals. The pond was ringed with a beach of bright white sand, evidently imported from elsewhere . Archaeologists believe this feature likely served ritual purposes – essentially a water-filled ceremonial plaza in the shape of a cosmic symbol. Carr notes that such large-scale landscape modifications reflect a high degree of social organization and planning, reinforcing that Ortona was a major ceremonial center as well as a habitation site .

By the early 2000s, archaeological work at Ortona had firmly established the site’s scale and complexity. Ortona appears to have been a regional hub of trade and communication. Its position – near the navigable headwaters of the Caloosahatchee (leading west to the Gulf of Mexico) and not far from portage routes to Lake Okeechobee (leading east to the Atlantic via the Kissimmee and St. Johns rivers) – was strategic . Scholars theorize that Ortona sat at the crossroads of a north–south interior canoe route and an east–west cross-Florida route . Goods from the Everglades and Florida’s coasts would have moved through Ortona: alligator hides, shark teeth, bird plumage, and marine shells are thought to have traveled northward, while items like chert flint, copper panpipes, ear spools, and perhaps ceremonial pottery or effigy pipes came south . The presence at Ortona of exotic materials (e.g. copper or non-local stone) in small quantities corroborates such long-distance exchange. By around A.D. 800, Ortona’s prominence waned, possibly as political power shifted to nearby centers (scholars note a later chiefdom called Calusa rose to dominate the region by ca. A.D. 1200) . Even so, Ortona likely remained inhabited into the Mississippian period. Some evidence suggests the site (or its vicinity) was still occupied at European contact: Spanish records and early Seminole accounts hint that the Calusa and their allies controlled this area in the 16th–17th centuries, and the abundance of Spanish-derived metal at Ortona (from Tallant’s finds) might indicate activity or re-use of the site during that era . Ultimately, by the 19th century the original Ortona culture had long disappeared, a victim of the general collapse of Florida’s indigenous population by the 1700s due to warfare, enslavement, and disease .

From a preservation standpoint, the late 20th-century research also chronicled the extensive damage Ortona has suffered. Hamilton Disston’s drainage projects in the 1880s blew up the Caloosahatchee rapids and altered water levels . In the 1940s–50s, road construction through the site demolished a 20-foot-high burial mound that had been the tallest point in Glades County . More recently, sand mining operations in the 1970s–80s gutted large sections of mounds and earthworks (Mounds B, C, and D were especially impacted) . Carr’s documentation in the 1990s came just in time to record some features before they vanished. Today, part of the site is protected within Ortona Indian Mound Park, but many features lie on private cattle pasture or timber land, their preservation dependent on landowner goodwill . Recognizing this, archaeologists have partnered with state and private organizations to secure what they can. The Archaeological Conservancy (a national preservation group) acquired an area including the Baton Pond in the early 2000s, working with a rancher who owned that parcel . There has also been a push to nominate Ortona’s canal system as a National Historic Landmark, leveraging comparisons to similar sites like the Mud Lake Canal in Everglades National Park (which was designated a NHL) . The research and excavations of the 1990s–2000s thus not only enriched our understanding of Ortona’s ancient society, but also provided a foundation for ongoing preservation efforts.

Cultural and Astronomical Interpretations

The enigmatic earthworks at Ortona have prompted a range of interpretations regarding their cultural and symbolic meanings. Archaeologists generally view Ortona as part of the Belle Glade cultural tradition of South Florida, which was distinct from but connected to the mound-building cultures of the Southeast. The site’s floruit (ca. 200–700 A.D.) overlaps with the Middle Woodland period, and some features at Ortona evoke broader Eastern Woodlands patterns. For instance, Carr and others have noted that Ortona’s peak construction coincides with an interval of pan-regional interaction (the Hopewell era) when ideas about monument building were spreading across Eastern North America . The geometric layout of Ortona – with its circles, rectangles, and linear causeways – fits into a larger family of Woodland and Mississippian ceremonial landscapes, although adapted to the Everglades environment . Notably, Ortona’s people built mounds for habitation – raising their buildings on earthworks to escape seasonal flooding – a trait that set them apart from contemporaneous Ohio Hopewell peoples (who reserved mounds for burials or ritual) . This suggests a cultural adaptation to the wetland setting: Ortona’s earthen architecture was multi-purpose, blending the sacred and the practical.

Several of Ortona’s features hint at intentional cosmological or astronomical symbolism. The long Baton-shaped pondis one example. Archaeologist Jerald T. Milanich interprets this feature as a reflection of a “sacred mace,” which many Native American groups regarded as emblematic of chiefly power and cosmic order . Its alignment is intriguing: the pond’s long axis is oriented 20 degrees west of north, an orientation that has been observed at other ancient sites in the Eastern Woodlands . This azimuth (340°) does not align with true north or solstices, but some researchers have speculated it could relate to sightings of particular stars or constellations. Such alignments (20°–23° off cardinal directions) are known, for example, at Ohio Hopewell earthworks and may correspond to certain lunar or stellar events. While definitive proof is lacking, the repetition of this bearing suggests it was deliberately chosen – possibly encoding an astronomical reference that would have been meaningful within Ortona’s ceremonial calendar . The park’s interpretive signage (installed in 1989) notes that one of the site’s curved embankments has a crescent shape “holding” a star – a design evocative of a quarter moon and morning star motif . This could indicate that Ortona’s builders symbolized celestial concepts in their site plan (a crescent-and-star earthwork might correspond to a night-sky observation or myth). Such interpretations remain hypothesis, but they align with widespread Eastern Woodlands themes where earthworks often modeled cosmology (circle-and-square layouts, cardinal alignments, etc.)

Perhaps the most controversial interpretation has been the idea of a “Serpent Mound” at Ortona. The zig-zag linear earthwork mapped by Montague Tallant in 1930 has invited comparison to the famous Serpent Mound in Ohio. In 2020, researcher Gary C. Daniels proposed that Ortona’s serpent-like mound was intentionally built to represent the constellation Serpens Caput (the Snake) as it appears in the night sky . If true, this would make Ortona’s serpent the oldest known constellation effigy mound in the Americas (predating Ohio’s Serpent Mound, ca. A.D. 1070, by several centuries) . According to Daniels’ analysis, Tallant’s map shows a series of three linear mounds ending in an open-mouthed v-shaped head, very much like a snake devouring something.These zigzagging linear mounds match the form of Serpens Caput exactly. Additionally, a small circular mound was noted by Tallant at the juncture of the tail and body segments of the serpent. This mound was in the same location as the brightest star (Unukalhai) of the constellation Serpens Caput. This mound’s location is the strongest confirmation supporting Daniels’ hypothesis.

The serpent motif is not entirely foreign to Floridian prehistory – stylized serpent designs appear on some Belle Glade pottery and copper plaques – so the idea remains an intriguing footnote. What can be stated confidently is that Ortona’s people were peaceful engineers and traders, not obvious war chiefs. The absence of defensive palisades or embankments around Ortona (a fact first highlighted by Richard Thornton’s site analysis) is notable . This aligns with research by George R. Milner and others indicating that South Florida’s earthwork sites flourished during a relatively peaceful interval (circa 100 B.C. – A.D. 400) when warfare was less prevalent . Ortona’s open layout – lacking fortifications – suggests its inhabitants felt secure, likely protected by their remote wetlands and friendly relations with neighbors. Over time, this would change as Mississippian-era conflict intensified elsewhere, but Ortona’s heyday appears to have been a time of prosperous interchange rather than strife .

Another interpretive thread has been possible Mesoamerican influence at Ortona. A minority of researchers have pointed to perceived similarities between Ortona’s earthworks and Maya features. For example, the U-shaped “ballcourt” hypothesis: Ortona has a U-shaped embankment adjacent to a level area that some have likened to ballcourts found in Maya sites (the idea being that refugees or traders from Tabasco/Veracruz might have introduced ballgame rituals) . There is also the presence of stucco-like sand and burnt shell surfacing on one mound at Ortona, reminiscent of Mesoamerican lime plasters . However, most Florida archaeologists (e.g., Jerald Milanich) explain these as independent local developments or at most indirect diffusion of ideas via the Gulf Coast . Milanich and others argue that resemblances between Ortona and Mississippian or Mesoamerican sites are due to broad analogous responses (complex societies often converge on similar monument forms) or perhaps occasional exchange of concepts, rather than any substantial migration of people from Mesoamerica . In summary, while Ortona’s architecture invites imaginative interpretations – serpents in the earth, celestial alignments, ballcourts in the swamps – the prevailing scholarly view sees Ortona’s achievements as a home-grown cultural fluorescence. The site reflects the ingenuity of the Glades-area natives, who engineered their landscape for both practical and ceremonial ends, creating a place that embodied their cosmology and facilitated their economy in uniquely Floridian ways .

Public Awareness and Media Coverage

For much of the 20th century, Ortona Mounds was known mainly to archaeologists and local residents. In recent decades, however, the site’s unique story has attracted broader public attention through newspapers, magazines, and broadcast media. A pivotal moment was in 2002, when The New York Times ran a feature article on Ortona’s canals, bringing national visibility to this “unknown” site. Science journalist Mark Derr visited Ortona and published “Network of Waterways Traced to Ancient Florida Culture” in the NYT on July 23, 2002 . Derr’s article highlighted the recent findings by Bob Carr’s team: the seven-mile canal system (termed “monuments to prodigious engineering skill”) and the early dates suggesting construction around A.D. 250 . The piece opened by painting a picture of the unassuming rural landscape of Ortona, where a casual visitor might overlook broad indentations running through the palmettos – indentations that are in fact ancient canals linking Lake Okeechobee to the Gulf . Derr described Ortona as a “planner’s dream” of a village, with “sculptured earthworks (one of them resembling a crescent moon holding a star) and mounds, ponds and geometric causeways.” This vivid description, drawn from archaeologists’ interpretations, captivated readers. The NYT article also quoted outside experts to contextualize Ortona: Northwestern University’s James A. Brown praised Carr’s evidence as finally placing South Florida within the Hopewell interaction sphere (“the smoking gun” that Florida was part of Hopewell culture) . The article conveyed a sense of excitement that Florida – better known for shell middens and coastal sites – had an interior monumental site contemporaneous with northern earthworks. In addition, Derr touched on the impending threats to Ortona: he noted that many of the 25 recorded earthworks were on private land, vulnerable to development, and that one large mound had been largely destroyed by road-building decades earlier . The piece concluded with a cautionary quote from Carr about the urgent need to “preserve what’s left” of Ortona in the face of ongoing site loss . Publication of this article in the nation’s paper of record was a turning point that spurred greater interest and even tourism to the remote Ortona site (local officials noted an uptick in inquiries following the NYT piece). It also underscored the value of Ortona as a teaching example of indigenous engineering on par with more famous sites.

Local and regional media in Florida have similarly shone a spotlight on Ortona. In June 2002 (just prior to the NYT piece), the Tampa Bay Times ran an AP news story titled “Ancient canal system discovered”, reporting the press conference where Carr announced the Ortona canal findings . This article emphasized the age and size of the canal (nearly 2,000 years old and 7 miles long) and the discovery of the 450-ft “sacred baton” pond . It quoted Carr calling these discoveries “engineering marvels” and noted how they change our view of Florida’s past . The Tampa Bay Times piece also included commentary from Dr. Jerald T. Milanich of the Florida Museum of Natural History, who affirmed that “Indians were digging canals… hundreds and perhaps thousands of years ago in Ortona”, using them for canoe travel between villages . Milanich drew connections to other Lake Okeechobee sites where earthen locks, geometric mound arrangements, and carved wooden artifacts have been found , thus placing Ortona in a wider cultural context of sophisticated prehistoric water management in South Florida. Such coverage in a major state newspaper helped Floridians appreciate that their interior heartland held feats of indigenous engineering rivaling the more famous coastal shell mounds or the Everglades Tree Islands.

Smaller publications have added to the narrative as well. The Fort Myers News-Press (the daily paper of the region) has periodically covered Ortona. For example, in 2016 journalist Anne M. O’Phelan wrote “Ortona Indian Mound Park full of history,” an article that recounted the site’s archaeological importance and lamented the lack of awareness even among locals . O’Phelan noted that visitors to the small county park can walk past enormous earthworks without any idea of their origin due to scarce signage. The piece called for better preservation and interpretation, quoting experts from the University of Florida and Florida Public Archaeology Network about Ortona’s significance. Through such articles, the public is reminded that beyond the beaches and theme parks, Florida holds ancient treasures that merit protection.

Most recently, public media has taken an in-depth interest in Ortona. In 2024, WGCU (the PBS/NPR affiliate for Southwest Florida) produced a five-part radio and digital series titled “Forgotten Park”, dedicated entirely to Ortona Indian Mound Park and its history . Researched, written, and produced by reporter Tara Calligan, this series is perhaps the most comprehensive popular treatment of Ortona to date. Episode 1, “Forgotten Grounds,” describes the park’s current state: “a hidden gem… neglected and covered in debris” despite its profound heritage . The series highlights the contrast between the lively annual cane-grinding festival held at the park (a local pioneer tradition) and the largely uninterpreted native mounds that surround festival-goers . Calligan interviews local residents like Dorinda Williams-Campos, whose family has lived in Glades County for six generations, about the community’s relationship to the mound park . Williams-Campos expresses frustration that “we need signage, we need something [explaining] the history of the Calusa Indians and why it’s called Indian Mound Park”, underscoring that even basic interpretive infrastructure is lacking . The WGCU segments also feature archaeologists who reiterate Ortona’s importance: the site is traced back to circa 300 A.D. and identified as a major hub likely connected to the Calusa or their ancestors . Listeners learn about the hand-dug canals – “some of the oldest and longest ever constructed by indigenous people in North America” – and how their discovery has “changed our understanding of Native American ingenuity during that era.” The “Forgotten Park” series has thereby served to educate the public on why Ortona matters and to spark dialogue on preserving it. It has brought forth a call to action: local advocates are now working to clean up the park, improve signage, and possibly expand protections to unprotected portions of the site. The series effectively bridges academic knowledge and public interest, translating the decades of archaeological research at Ortona into an accessible story of an “ancient civilization with advanced engineering skills” hidden in plain sight in Glades County .

In summary, Ortona Mounds has transitioned from a little-known set of earthworks mentioned only in specialist literature to a site recognized in popular media as “one of the most significant prehistoric sites in Florida.” This growing awareness is crucial. The literature – from early antiquarian notes, through professional archaeological reports, to modern news and documentaries – collectively paints a rich portrait of Ortona. It is a portrait of a prehistoric community that engineered canals through marshes, built massive mounds without metal tools or draft animals, engaged in far-flung exchange networks, and expressed a sophisticated worldview in earth and clay. The challenge moving forward, often emphasized in both scholarly and popular sources, is to safeguard what remains of Ortona’s heritage. As Robert Carr poignantly warned, “We have to help preserve what’s left, or it will be gone in the next 20 years.” Continued research, public education, and conservation efforts – informed by the comprehensive body of literature reviewed above – will determine whether Ortona’s legacy endures for future generations to appreciate.

References

• American Antiquarian Society (1887). “Mounds in Florida.” The American Antiquarian and Oriental Journal9(6): 307–308. Early notice describing the Ortona earthworks and canals .
• Hrdli?ka, Aleš (1922). The Anthropology of Florida. Publication No. 1 of the Florida State Historical Society. Deland, FL. (Brief description of Ortona’s mounds on p. 52 .)
• Small, John K. (1923). “Explorations in Southern Florida.” Journal of the New York Botanical Garden 24: 217–221. (Small’s travelogue noting the Ortona mounds and canals on p. 220 .)
• Tallant, Montague (1930). Ortona Field Notes and Map. Unpublished sketch map and notes of excavations at Ortona Mounds, on file at The Bishop Museum of Science and Nature (Bradenton, FL). (Depicts “serpent mound” earthwork and U-shaped mound excavated by Tallant .)
• Lothrop, S. K. (1940). Correspondence to M. Tallant, June 5, 1940. Montague Tallant Collection Archives, The Bishop Museum of Science and Nature. (Identification of Ortona gold jaguar figurine as likely Colombian ; comparison of gold turtle-shell pendant to Mixtec examples .)
• Goggin, John M. (1952). Ortona Site Designations and Excavation Notes. Manuscript on file, Florida Bureau of Archaeological Research, Tallahassee. (First professional excavation at Ortona; documents multiple site components .)
• Carr, Robert S., David Dickel, and Marilyn Masson (1995). “Archaeological Investigations at the Ortona Earthworks and Mounds.” The Florida Anthropologist 48(4): 227–263. (Detailed survey and test excavation report; includes site maps, mound descriptions, artifact analyses, and summary of prior work .)
• Wheeler, Ryan J. (1995). “The Ortona Canals: Aboriginal Canal Hydraulics and Engineering.” The Florida Anthropologist 48(4): 265–281. (Analysis of the construction and function of Ortona’s canoe canals; discusses early 20th-c. observations and presents cross-sections and slope calculations .)
• Branstetter, Stacie M. (1995). “Ortona and the Tallant Collection.” The Florida Anthropologist 48(4): 291–293. (Notes on the provenience of Tallant’s Ortona artifacts; chemical analysis of gold indicating Colombian source .)
• Carr, Robert S., Jorge Zamanillo, and Jim Pepe (2002). “Archaeological Profiling and Radiocarbon Dating of the Ortona Canal (8GL4), Glades County, Florida.” The Florida Anthropologist 55(1): 3–22. (Report on 1990s trench excavations into the Ortona canal; provides radiocarbon dates ca. A.D. 250 and profiles of canal stratigraphy .)
• Mitchem, Jeffrey M. (2022). “The Tallant Collection: Early Spanish Contact in South Florida.” Southeastern Archaeology 41(3): 200–213. (Includes discussion of Montague Tallant’s 1930s excavations at Ortona and analysis of gold, silver, and tumbaga artifacts from the site .)
• Derr, Mark (2002). “Network of Waterways Traced to Ancient Florida Culture.” The New York Times, July 23, 2002, Science section. (Feature article covering Ortona’s canal system and its significance; quotes archaeologists on Ortona’s Hopewell-era connections .)
• Tampa Bay Times (2002). “Ancient canal system discovered.” Tampa Bay Times, June 7, 2002. (News report on Carr’s announcement of Ortona discoveries; highlights the 7-mile canal and 450-ft “mace” pond, with commentary by J. Milanich .)
• O’Phelan, Anne M. (2016). “Ortona Indian Mound Park full of history.” The News-Press (Fort Myers, FL), Feb. 9, 2016. (Popular article summarizing Ortona’s archaeology and calling for better preservation; references early surveys and recent excavations.)
• Calligan, Tara (2024). “Forgotten Park” Series: Ortona Indian Mound Park’s History. Gulf Coast Life, WGCU (PBS/NPR Southwest Florida). Broadcast and web series, April 1–10, 2024. (Five-part radio series documenting Ortona’s cultural heritage and current preservation challenges; features interviews with archaeologists and local historians .)
• Access Genealogy (2023). “Maya Cultural Traditions at the Ortona Archaeological Zone.” AccessGenealogy.com. (Online article by Richard Thornton suggesting Mesoamerican architectural parallels at Ortona, such as U-shaped ballcourts and use of lime stucco ; a speculative secondary source.)
• Daniels, Gary C. (2020). “Florida Serpent Mound Represents Serpens Constellation.” LostWorlds.org, Nov. 7, 2020. (Blog post interpreting Ortona’s “serpent mound” as an astronomical effigy ; synthesizes Tallant’s 1930 map and later data to propose a constellation alignment.)

(All online sources were accessed and verified May 27, 2025.)