About New Port Richey

Before it was New Port Richey, it was Hickory Hammock. Farmers and ranchers on the south bank of the Pithlachascotee River, making rope from dried-out vines, digging square wells by hand. On the north side, Aaron McLaughlin Richey set up a post office in 1883. He was an Ohio native who'd panned for gold in California and tried Missouri before deciding Florida was the place. The name "Port Richey" stuck. And eventually, the people across the river through the Devil's Woodyard borrowed it, tacking "New" on the front.

The city incorporated in 1924, and this is where the story gets a little absurd. Investors looked at the Cotee River curving toward the Gulf and decided it was going to be the Hollywood of the East. Not a small-town arts district. Not a winter escape. Hollywood. A metropolis for the silver screen.

They had evidence, briefly. Silent film star Thomas Meighan built a home on the riverbank. Golfer Gene Sarazen settled in. The Richey Suncoast Theatre (originally named for Meighan) opened in 1925 to show movies. The Hacienda Hotel opened in 1927, stucco the color of bubblegum, Mediterranean Revival arches framing the entrance like someone famous was about to walk through. For a while, someone famous usually was.

California won. The studios, the stars, the money. It all went west. Some celebrities still visited and built winter homes in New Port Richey, but the dream of a Florida film capital died with the Great Depression. The beautiful buildings downtown sat empty.

The town between the bust and the recovery had its own character. During Prohibition, moonshine stills hid in the underbrush and law enforcement chased runners through the backroads. Al Capone is rumored to have hunted at the nearby Moon Lake Dude Ranch. Not every town gets a gangster footnote.

The Hacienda is still bubblegum pink. The Richey Suncoast Theatre just crossed its hundredth birthday and still runs live plays and comedy nights. Local businesses operate from the original 1920s structures along Main Street, storefronts that were built for movie-star money now housing restaurants, breweries, and shops that belong to the people who live here.

Every March, Chasco Fiesta fills the downtown with the third-largest street parade in Florida and 350-plus classic cars. Every fourth Friday, the streets close for live music and an open-air market. Ghost tours and historic walks connect the architecture to the stories behind it. The Hollywood dream died. The town that was supposed to be temporary became permanent. That's the better story.

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborum.