Florida’s First Lady at War

World War II was an all-encompassing event for Floridians who lived through it. Between calls for military service, blackouts, food and fuel rationing, and the retooling of industries to feed supplies and equipment to soldiers on the front, no man, woman or child was left unaffected. That extended to Florida’s first family as well. Governor Spessard Lindsey Holland was only about a year into his administration when the U.S. entered World War II, and naturally it became a defining feature of his tenure as the state’s chief executive. But Governor Holland wasn’t the only member of his household who went all out to support the war effort. His wife, Mary Agnes Groover Holland, played a vital role as well.

First Lady Mary Groover Holland breaks a bottle of champagne against the hull of the USS Shasta, built by the Tampa Shipbuilding Company (July 9, 1941).

First Lady Mary Groover Holland breaks a bottle of champagne against the hull of the USS Shasta, an ammunition ship built by the Tampa Shipbuilding Company (July 9, 1941).

Even before the United States officially entered the war, Mrs. Holland supported the Allies through humanitarian efforts such as the Bundles for Britain program. This arm of the British War Relief Society gathered donations of medical supplies, clothing, food and other essentials and sent them to Britain, which was at that time bearing the brunt of Hitler’s assault on Western Europe. In March 1941, Mrs. Holland visited the headquarters of the Bundles chapter at the Florida State College for Women to inspect the work being done there by the students and faculty. When she learned that some of the young women had not yet learned how to knit, she took a seat and put on a demonstration.

First Lady Mary Holland shows Norma Pennoyer of Coconut Grove how to knit (1941).

First Lady Mary Holland shows Norma Pennoyer of Coconut Grove how to knit (1941).

Once the United States was officially in the war and the federal government ramped up its efforts to mobilize the home front, Mary Holland used her position as Florida’s first lady to give civilian defense efforts a little extra publicity. When the State Defense Council organized drives to collect scrap metal for recycling into war materiel, she searched high and low in the Governor’s Mansion for items to contribute. She also hosted a very important delegation of Floridians connected with the scrapping effort – schoolchildren who had won a statewide contest to collect the most scrap metal. Six children were selected at the end of that contest to take part in the christening of a Liberty ship in Mobile named for Colin P. Kelly Jr. of Madison, who had been one of the first U.S. airmen to perish in combat after the attack on Pearl Harbor. While en route to Mobile, the children stopped off in Tallahassee and visited the Governor’s Mansion, where they had the opportunity to explore the governor’s desk and play Chinese checkers and darts with Mrs. Holland.

Florida's First Lady, Mary Holland, playing Chinese checkers with her house guests at the Governor's Mansion in Tasllahassee (December 1942). Seated around the table are Gwendolyn Willcocks, Allen Shelton, Mrs. Holland, and Albert W. Thompson (?).

First Lady Mary Holland playing Chinese checkers with her house guests at the Governor’s Mansion in Tallahassee (December 1942). Seated around the table are Gwendolyn Willcocks, Allen Shelton, Mrs. Holland, and Albert W. Thompson (?).

Mrs. Holland’s efforts to recruit women for the Women’s Army Corps (WACs) were perhaps her most important contribution. In September 1943, Governor Holland appointed his wife chairman of the All-States WAC Recruiting Campaign for Florida, challenging her to enlist 1,000 women into the program. Mrs. Holland worked closely with the State Defense Council to appoint recruiters in each county and regularly attended WAC events to encourage the enlistees. “This is our war job – the task that we women can undertake in support of our fighting men,” she wrote in a letter to recruiters. “We cannot let them down.”

First Lady Mary Holland participates in the unveiling of a memorial to Colin P. Kelly, Jr. in Madison (June 16, 1944).

First Lady Mary Holland participates in the unveiling of a memorial to Colin P. Kelly Jr. in Madison (June 16, 1944).

Mary Holland’s contributions are just one example of the patriotic service to community and country that Florida women rendered during World War II. Check out our World War II in Florida exhibit, as well as the Florida World War II Heritage Trail, established by the Florida Department of State.

 

The Walking Senator

In the parlance of American politics, when someone is up for election to a public office, we say that she or he is running for that office. In 1970, however, a young state senator from Lakeland named Lawton Chiles decided he’d rather walk.

Then-State Senator Lawton Mainor Chiles, Jr. walks along a Florida highway during his campaign for the U.S. Senate (1970).

Florida State Senator Lawton Mainor Chiles Jr. walks along a Florida highway during his campaign for the U.S. Senate (1970).

Lawton Mainor Chiles Jr. was a Florida native, born in Lakeland in 1930 and educated at the University of Florida (UF). He served in the United States Army as an artillery officer during the Korean War before returning to UF for law school. Chiles graduated with his law degree in 1955 and opened up a practice in his hometown. Just three years later, at the age of 29, Chiles won a seat in the Florida House of Representatives, where he served through 1966, when he was elected to the Florida Senate.

Representatives Don Fuqua (left) and Lawton Chiles (right) looking over a bill during the 1961 legislative session in Tallahassee.

Representatives Don Fuqua (left) and Lawton Chiles (right) looking over a bill during the 1961 legislative session in Tallahassee.

But Chiles had his sights set even higher. In 1969, he announced his decision to run for the U.S. Senate seat being vacated by veteran statesman Spessard Holland the next year. Holland had been a fixture in Florida politics for decades, having served as a state senator in the 1930s and then governor during most of World War II (1941-1945). His U.S. Senate career had begun the very next year in 1946. After serving nearly 25 years in that capacity, he would certainly leave big shoes for his successor to fill.

Chiles believed he was up to the task, but he had some obstacles to overcome. Polls showed that only about four percent of Florida’s 2.7 million voters knew who he was. That problem would become even more pressing when former Governor C. Farris Bryant entered the race against Chiles for the Democratic nomination. Chiles needed voters to get to know him and his ideas if he was to have a shot at even making it to the general election. Moreover, he needed to get this publicity on a tight budget. As a younger, lesser-known candidate whose political career had mainly focused on one specific part of the state, Chiles lacked the far-reaching fundraising network that some of his opponents could draw from.

That’s where the idea for a statewide walking campaign came in. Rhea Chiles, Lawton’s wife, hatched the plan, according to later recollections from their son Bud. She suggested it at a strategy session at the couple’s home in Lakeland on March 12, 1970. A number of friends and political allies were skeptical and counseled against the idea. It took Chiles less than a day, however, to decide that a walking campaign was exactly what he would do. He explained that the concept dovetailed perfectly with the principles he laid out in announcing his decision to run for office–his determination to be a “working candidate” and talk with real everyday Floridians and learn about their desires, concerns and ideas.

Cover of a brochure published by Lawton Chiles' 1970 Senate campaign to explain Chiles' decision to

Cover of a brochure published by Lawton Chiles’ 1970 Senate campaign to explain Chiles’ decision to “walk” rather than “run” for office (State Library of Florida Campaign Literature Collection). Click or tap the image to view the complete brochure.

Chiles headed up to the Florida Panhandle and began looking for a logical spot to begin the walk. He and his supporters decided on Century, a small town in Escambia County, north of Pensacola on the Florida-Alabama line. The plan was to start in Century and end up all the way down in Key Largo, stopping for 60 days in Tallahassee for the 1970 spring legislative session. Chiles would walk the route six days per week and rest on the seventh. A camper would follow him with supplies and a place to rest, eat and sleep along the way.

Chiles waves to bystanders gathered to see him enter town during his 1970 walking campaign.

Chiles waves to bystanders gathered to see him enter town during his 1970 walking campaign.

The walk began on March 17, and it quickly became clear that Chiles had definitely gotten one thing correct: Floridians had a lot to talk about with this man who wanted to become their next U.S. Senator. Chiles reported having conversations with people on everything from the price of doing business as a small farmer to the war in Vietnam to school integration to the backlog of work remaining to be done on Interstate 10 through the Panhandle. And Chiles didn’t typically have to find people to talk to – they came to him. Campaign officials encouraged Floridians to walk alongside the candidate to share their ideas, and many did. Some even cooked meals for the campaign or hosted community events to welcome the Chiles caravan into town. The day-to-day events of Chiles’ journey are well-documented, both in newspaper articles and progress reports published by the campaign, copies of which are now in the State Library’s Campaign Literature Collection and available on Florida Memory. This map shows the route Chiles took from Century to Key Largo in pink, with some criss-crossing in the middle of the state. Click the map to zoom in on parts of the route.

A 1970 Official State Highway Map showing the route of Lawton Chiles' 1,003-mile walk between Century in the Panhandle to John Pennekamp Coral Reef State Park near Key Largo. Map courtesy of the Florida Department of Transportation.

A 1970 Official State Highway Map showing the route of Lawton Chiles’ 1,003-mile walk between Century in the Panhandle to John Pennekamp Coral Reef State Park near Key Largo. Map courtesy of the Florida Department of Transportation.

Naturally, this method of campaigning had some pitfalls. Pop-up rain showers often forced Chiles to stop and change clothes throughout the day, and motorists didn’t always keep a safe distance as they passed him on the highway. The walking itself was taxing, and Chiles reported getting “stove up” like an old racehorse after just a few days on the road. His legs and feet gradually became more accustomed to the demanding task at hand, but that didn’t stop Floridians from showing their concern. People constantly asked him about his feet, and they sometimes brought out home remedies for blisters or underwear or other “helpful” gifts. One person gave Chiles a giant ball of twine for him to unwind as he went along so he would be able to find his way home.

Lawton Chiles walking in the Springtime Tallahassee parade (1970).

Lawton Chiles walking in the Springtime Tallahassee parade (1970).

Chiles’ journey across the state came to an end on August 19, 1970, when he walked into the John Pennekamp Coral Reef State Park in Key Largo. He had walked 1,003 miles in 91 days, going through five pairs of boots and losing twelve pounds and three inches from his waistline. He told a Miami Herald reporter who joined him for the last mile or so that he could hardly believe it was really over. “I wonder what I’m going to do tomorrow,” he said.

As it turned out, Chiles was about to have plenty to do. He qualified for a runoff with fellow Democratic candidate Farris Bryant, and clinched the Democratic nomination two weeks later on September 29. President Richard Nixon himself came to Florida to campaign for the Republican challenger, William Cramer, but ultimately Chiles came out ahead on Election Day and won a seat in the U.S. Senate. He would serve for three terms as senator (1971-1989) before returning to state government for two terms as governor (1991-1998).

Governor Lawton Chiles and First Lady Rhea Chiles in Tallahassee (1991).

Governor Lawton Chiles and First Lady Rhea Chiles in Tallahassee (1991).

Lawton Chiles died December 12, 1998, just three weeks before the end of his final term as governor. In a homage to the unique campaign that had introduced him to so many Floridians in 1970, Chiles’ funeral procession retraced part of the route of his walking tour, starting in Century and ending in Tallahassee, where his casket lay in state in the Old Capitol prior to his funeral. The Florida Legislature further honored Chiles’ memory by designating the entire route of Chiles’ 1970 walking campaign as the “Lawton Chiles Trail.” The route is now marked with signs depicting one of the most iconic artifacts of that journey–a well-worn pair of walking boots. Those boots, by the way, are on display at the Florida Historic Capitol Museum as part of the museum’s permanent collection.

One of many signs marking the "Lawton Chiles Trail" designated by the 1999 Florida Legislature. This one appears on State Highway 100 just outside of Lake Butler (Photo courtesy of the author).

One of many signs marking the “Lawton Chiles Trail” designated by the 1999 Florida Legislature. This one appears on State Highway 100 just outside of Lake Butler (Photo courtesy of the author).

Search the Florida Photographic Collection for more pictures illustrating Florida’s colorful political history, and check out the State Library’s Florida Governors bibliography to find related books and other resources.

Water Witching

After reading The Wizard of Oz or watching the film adaptation, you may have come away thinking that witches and water don’t mix. Not so! In fact, people have been “witching” for water, oil, gold and other hidden things for thousands of years.

'Water witcher' Don Thompson of Clearwater at the 1977 Florida Folk Festival in White Springs.

‘Water witcher’ Don Thompson of Clearwater at the 1977 Florida Folk Festival in White Springs.

So-called water witching is the practice of locating a source of underground water using a simple tool, usually a Y-shaped object called a dowsing rod or divining rod. The traditional dowsing rod is often made from a local tree or bush, but some water witchers use brass, copper, nylon or even re-purposed objects like clothes hangers and wire.

Water witching has a long history, some even applying the term to the Biblical Moses striking a rock with his staff and causing water to flow from it. African cave paintings from 6,000-8,000 years ago found in the Atlas Mountains appear to depict water witching, and references to the practice appear in the ancient writings of Indian, Chinese, Egyptian and Persian thinkers. Evidence suggests dowsing first appeared in Europe in the 16th century, as dowsers attempted to divine sources of certain minerals. As Europeans began making their way to North America, they brought dowsing with them, and soon the practice became ingrained in the popular imagination as a legitimate way to prospect for water.

The procedure for water witching is deceptively simple. The operator holds the dowsing rod or other divining tool with palms facing up, thumbs outward and the tip of the rod pointing upward. As the water witcher walks along, the presence of underground water “pulls” the tip of the rod downward, allegedly with enough force in some cases to twist the bark on the handles of the rod. Science has yet to account for this phenomenon, but those who practice water witching and believe in its legitimacy say it’s all about the skill of the witcher. “You can either do it or you can’t do it,” longtime Florida Folk Festival director Thelma Boltin once said of it. Plenty of people certainly tried their hand at it while visiting the festival, with guidance from professional water witchers like Lonnie Morgan of White Springs and Don Thompson of Clearwater.

Here’s a brief audio clip of Lonnie Morgan explaining the art of water witching at the Florida Folk Festival in 1963, with some commentary from Thelma Boltin:

https://www.floridamemory.com/fpc/memory/blog/images/2018/waterwitching.mp3

From recording T77-140, Florida Folklife Collection (Series S1578), State Archives of Florida.

Water witcher Lonnie Morgan of White Springs holding a dowsing rod at the Florida Folk Festival in 1958.

Water witcher Lonnie Morgan of White Springs holding a dowsing rod at the Florida Folk Festival in 1958.

Dowsing rods have also come in handy for treasure hunters looking for other hidden goodies, like gold and silver coins and other objects. In the photo below, for example, we see a man using a dowsing rod to search for lost items on a beach in Pensacola. Whatever your thoughts about the merits of dowsing, you have to admit it’s less cumbersome than carrying around a metal detector!

Man hunting for treasure on a beach near Pensacola (1961).

Man hunting for treasure on a beach near Pensacola (1961).

In at least a few cases, dowsing rods have been at the center of much bigger, more dramatic Florida treasure hunts. George B. Mobley of Green Cove Springs made the news on several occasions in the 1940s and early 1950s with his divining rod and fantastic stories of buried Spanish pirate gold. In 1945 and again in 1948, Mobley got permission from city officials in Green Cove Springs to dig for treasure under a busy city street. He was bonded to ensure the damage to public property would be repaired, but Mobley was confident his venture would produce many times the value of what the repairs would cost.

Treasure hunter George B. Mobley and the

Treasure hunter George B. Mobley and his “money finding” device in Green Cove Springs (1948).

Both times, Mobley’s digs encountered natural obstacles, mainly the encroachment of water and quicksand into the shaft. As the 1948 dig grew deeper and still nothing was found, reporters repeatedly asked him if he might have made a mistake. “No sir,” he told the United Press, “it’s down there and as soon as we get all this muck out of the hole we’re going to dig it right up.” At one point during the excavation, Mobley decided to take his “money finding” divining rod into the open shaft to get a fresh reading on the gold to see how much farther his workers could expect to dredge. Mobley, at that time in his early 80s, was in no shape to go alone, so he sat on the lap of his chief contractor, J.T. Conway, as a crane lowered them both down into the hole.

Contractor J.T. Conway holds treasure hunter George B. Mobley on his lap as a crane lowers them both into an open shaft in Green Cove Springs. Mobley is seen holding his

Contractor J.T. Conway holds treasure hunter George B. Mobley on his lap as a crane lowers them both into an open shaft in Green Cove Springs. Mobley is seen holding his “money finding” device on the end of a divining rod (1948).

Mobley’s treasure hunt ended without much to show for the work. Although the team brought up a few metallic items they claimed could be connected with buried pirate treasure, they did not find the gold bars or coins they had believed were waiting for them. “The gold’s there all right,” Mobley said, “but now I think it’s gold dust instead of gold bars or coins and the dust has been mixed with the sand. We just couldn’t find it.”

While dowsing rods and similar devices haven’t proven very effective at pointing out sources of gold, water witching is still alive and well in the 21st century. In fact, there’s still an active American Society of Dowsers with chapters right here in Florida!  The U.S. Geological Survey and the National Ground Water Association both point out that the philosophy behind dowsing doesn’t stand up to scientific scrutiny, yet they continue to field questions about it from the public, and both groups have found it necessary over the years to publish leaflets addressing the practice.

What kinds of treasure have you discovered in your corner of the state? Leave us a comment, and don’t forget to share this blog with your friends on Facebook or Twitter.

 

I Quit!!!

Did you know the State Archives of Florida holds records documenting the service of virtually every county official ever commissioned in the state’s history? All those judges, sheriffs, county commissioners, justices of the peace, tax assessors and such have to be officially commissioned before they really have the job, and the paperwork from that process generally ends up here at the State Archives, permanently preserved as part of Florida’s official records.

The records come in several forms, including written oaths, bonds, certificates of commission and directories used by government agencies to see who was doing which job in each of Florida’s counties. These documents are valuable for genealogists and local historians, since it’s possible to use them to make lists of a county’s officers dating back to territorial days. Also, some of the records are more narrative in nature and can tell us a bit about what it was like to be a public servant in Florida at a given time.

This is an example of one of the Secretary of State's directories of county and state officers (Series 1284). These directories run from 1845 to 1997, and a separate series (Series 259) covers the territorial era.

This is an example of a page from one of the Secretary of State’s directories of county and state officers (Series S1284). This one happens to be for officers commissioned for Polk County in the late 1870s and early 1880s. These directories run from 1845 to 1997, and a separate series (Series S259) covers the territorial era.

Resignation letters are one of the best kinds of records for conducting this type of research. Many of them are very short, polite and formulaic, saying something like “I hereby tender my resignation as Justice of the Peace for ….. County, but thank you for the honor of serving, etc. etc.” Other resigning officers are a little more descriptive, revealing either something about their lives or about conditions in their community that led them to give up their office. Whether you’re researching the history of an individual or the community they served in, this can be very helpful information!

In some cases, especially in the 19th century, people resigned from county offices because they just didn’t realize what they were getting themselves into. Many smaller offices like justice of the peace or constable were appointed in those days instead of elected, and often there wasn’t much competition for them. A group of neighbors would convince someone they trusted to serve, and then send in a petition for that person to get the commission. There’s a certain rustic democratic quality to this method, but it did sometimes result in officers who weren’t totally prepared for what was coming. Take for example the case of C.P. Murdock, a Methodist minister who resigned from his post as justice of the peace in Jefferson County in 1881. He told Governor George F. Drew he wouldn’t mind serving as a notary public, but the justice system just wasn’t for him. “I find that the ill will and strife which not infrequently attends little petty lawsuits,” he wrote, “are not compatible with my feelings as a Minister of the Gospel.”

Letter from Charles P. Murdock to Governor William D. Bloxham, resigning his position as justice of the peace in the area near Williamsburg (now called Aucilla) in Jefferson County (1881). Box 1, folder 8, Letters of resignation and removals from office (Series 1326), State Archives of Florida.

Letter from Charles P. Murdock to Governor William D. Bloxham, resigning his position as justice of the peace in the area near Williamsburg (now called Aucilla) in Jefferson County (1881). Box 1, folder 8, Letters of resignation and removals from office (Series S1326), State Archives of Florida.

D.W. Lister had a similar issue over in Lafayette County in 1880. In his resignation letter, he explained to Governor Drew that he took the office “not knowing what kind of county I was in as I had just arrived to it.” He wrote that he found it impossible to both exercise his duties as a justice of the peace and live in harmony with his neighbors, the same people he would be called by duty to prosecute for crimes like petit larceny, public drunkenness, etc. “While I am ready to admit it is impossible to please all,” he wrote, “I fail in a grate [sic] measure to please any.”

Letter from D.W. Lister to Governor George Franklin Drew, resigning his position as justice of the peace for Lafayette County (1880). Box 1, folder 9, Letters of resignation and removals from office (Series 1326), State Archives of Florida.

Letter from D.W. Lister to Governor George Franklin Drew, resigning his position as justice of the peace for Lafayette County (1880). Box 1, folder 9, Letters of resignation and removals from office (Series S1326), State Archives of Florida.

Some officials simply didn’t realize what kind of work was involved with the job. Adam Young, a farmer from Suwannee County, resigned his post as collector of revenue in 1876 after a new formula for calculating the sharing of tax money between the county and state threw him for a loop. “I find myself incompetent to attend to the duties required of me by the new system,” he wrote to Governor Marcellus Stearns. “Making reports and keeping the books requires a better mathematician than I am.”

Letter from Adam Young to Governor Marcellus Lovejoy Stearns, resigning his position as collector of revenue for Suwannee County (1876). Letters of resignation and removals from office (Series 1326), State Archives of Florida.

Letter from Adam Young to Governor Marcellus Lovejoy Stearns, resigning his position as collector of revenue for Suwannee County (1876). Letters of resignation and removals from office (Series S1326), State Archives of Florida.

Many county officers resigned their offices because they moved away from the area and could no longer serve the county or the part of the county they were assigned to. This was an especially common issue before the arrival of the automobile. In at least a few cases, however, it wasn’t the officer who moved, but the county itself! That’s what happened to Alden N. Sibley, a notary public for Sumter County. In 1887, he wrote to Governor Edward A. Perry resigning his commission and asking for a new one because, as he put it, his part of the county around Astatula had been “cut off” to form Lake County. Governor Perry obliged and ordered that Sibley receive the proper commission.

Letter from Alden N. Sibley of Astatula to Governor Edward Ayleworth Perry, resigning as a notary public (1887). Letters of resignation and removals from office (Series 1326), State Archives of Florida.

Letter from Alden N. Sibley of Astatula to Governor Edward Ayleworth Perry, resigning as a notary public (1887). Letters of resignation and removals from office (Series S1326), State Archives of Florida.

Sometimes resignations occurred as a matter of routine, either because a new governor had taken office or a new law had passed changing the nature of the position, or sometimes because the office had been eliminated. When Samuel McInnis of Hamilton County received a letter from Secretary of State Samuel McLin asking for his resignation as justice of the peace, McInnis wasn’t too bothered. In fact, he responded with a polite resignation letter and even a poem:

“Your Honor” no more to be called
But plain, simple Mister to be.
No more to the Court House be hauled
Nor grieve for the loss of a fee.

The “fee” refers to the fact that justices of the peace received a portion of the court costs associated with their efforts to try minor cases.

Letter from Samuel McInnis to Secretary of State Samuel B. McLin, resigning his office as justice of the peace for Hamilton County (1875). Letters of resignation and removals from office (Series 1326), State Archives of Florida.

Letter from Samuel McInnis to Secretary of State Samuel B. McLin, resigning his office as justice of the peace for Hamilton County (1875). Letters of resignation and removals from office (Series S1326), State Archives of Florida.

What kinds of historical gems could you find in records documenting the service of public officials from your county? That’s the exciting part of archival research – you never know what’s likely to turn up until you look. Check out the following records series for more information on some of the documents we have illustrating the service of county officials, and plan a visit to the State Archives in Tallahassee!

 

Series S1284: State and County Directories, 1845-1997

Series S259: Lists of Territorial, State, and County Officers, 1827-1923

Series S622: Oaths and Bonds of Public Officials, 1845-2004

Series S1326: Resignations and Removals from Public Office, 1844-1904

 

Planting Seeds

When most people think of Florida, they probably don’t think about trees. But the state is home to 14.5 million acres of forests comprising almost half the land area. Efforts to conserve Florida’s many trees date back to the late 1800s. At that time, interest in tree planting and protection spread across the United States with the creation of Arbor Day in Nebraska in 1872 and the founding of the American Forestry Association in 1875. In Florida, Ellen Call Long of Tallahassee stands out as one of the earliest advocates for tree conservation. Her interest in agriculture and ecology helped lead the way in Florida’s involvement in the conservation movement.

Portrait of Ellen Call Long in Tallahassee, Florida (1880s).

Ellen Call Long was born in 1825 at the Grove (Call-Collins House) in Florida’s capital city. Although she lived during a time when women had very little direct political influence, Long was able to exert some influence over local political leaders. Because her father, Richard Keith Call, served twice as Florida’s territorial governor (1836-39 and 1841-44), Long used her political connections to steer Florida towards forest conservation.

With the help of Florida’s Governor Edward A. Perry, she was able to bring Florida into the national conversation about tree conservation in the mid-1880s. Many states at this time were becoming increasingly aware of how tree destruction negatively affected people and the environment. A lumber shortage in the United States would have had devastating economic consequences, but the harvesting of timber nearly decimated the tree population in the Northeast and Midwest. Long did not want this to happen to her beloved state, so she found a way to get involved in the conservation movement.

Lumber classification guidelines adopted by the Pensacola Timber & Lumber Exchange in 1873. Florida’s lumber industry dates back to the 1830s. State Library of Florida, Florida Collection, BR0029.

Her fascination with the natural world began two decades prior, during the American Civil War (1861-1865). Long took an interest in silkworm cultivation as a way for women to earn an income while their male relatives were fighting in the war. Her enthusiasm for silkworm cultivation continued throughout her life —  a silk U.S. flag made from silkworms cultivated by Long was presented to Governor Perry at his inauguration in 1885.

Mena E. Williams Hirschberg holding the flag made of silk presented to Florida Governor Edward A. Perry during his inauguration in 1885.

She also later wrote “The Mulberry Tree and Its Uses” in 1889, recommending the mulberry tree as the solution to the “careless destruction of timber” in the United States. She suggested that because the mulberry tree was adaptable and could grow quickly in almost every climate and soil, it could help reverse deforestation. Moreover, if people were to plant mulberry trees across the country and cultivate silkworms as well,  a whole new industry might develop. Although her efforts to create a silk culture in the United States ultimately failed, Long’s interest in trees continued.

A mulberry tree in Mulberry, Florida. Mulberry was founded because it was conveniently located near four big phosphate plants — Palmetto Phosphate, Kingsford, Bone Valley and Land Pebble — in operation in the vicinity of this large mulberry tree.

After his election, Governor Perry became increasingly involved with the conservation movement, no doubt because of his friendship with Long. On December 16, 1885, Governor Perry hosted the first Southern Forestry Congress at DeFuniak Springs, Florida. He invited all Southern governors and requested that one delegate from each congressional district in their state attend the meeting. Delegates from the American Forestry Association, which was founded 10 years before, were also in attendance. The congress intended to address the importance of laws concerning forestry and other issues related to the subject. The delegates elected Long secretary of the congress, and during their second meeting in 1887, she delivered the welcome address to attendees. The group didn’t just talk about trees, they planted their own during their annual meetings. Each delegation planted a tree in its state’s honor, and each governor was also asked to plant and dedicate a tree honoring a historical figure from his state.

In 1888, the Southern Forestry Congress merged with the American Forestry Association (AFA) during the AFA’s annual meeting. Long presented a paper during the meeting titled, “Some Features of Tree-growth in Florida,” in which she advocated for controlled burning to maintain long-leaf  pine forests 50 years before it became the industry standard.  The paper was published in the proceedings a year later.

Florida Forestry Association members from Leon County managing a controlled burn at the J. W. Williams Memorial Forest (1959). Ellen Call Long advocated for controlled burning in 1889.

Governor Perry continued supporting efforts to conserve Florida’s tree population in 1886 and subsequent years by issuing the state’s first Arbor Day proclamation. He declared Wednesday, February 10 as Arbor Day in Florida. The proclamation states that tress “…tend to add to the healthfulness and comfort of our people and to the beauty of our State…” and requests that Floridians plant trees on this day, specifically mentioning schoolchildren, who will find Arbor Day “the most profitable day of the year.” The Sunshine State has been celebrating every year since, with the holiday now falling on the third Friday in January.

Governor Perry’s Arbor Day proclamation, 1886. State Archives of Florida, Proclamations and executive orders, Series 13, Volume 3, Page 193.

Ellen Call Long’s involvement in the conservation movement brought Florida into the national discussion about tree conservation. It is partly because of her interest in forestry that Floridians made an effort to protect the state’s trees, and Florida is now home to 37 state forests and three national forests.

You can learn more about Ellen Call Long in the Richard Keith Call Papers on Florida Memory. This collection contains digital scans of original letters to and from Richard Keith Call and Ellen Call Long, manuscript material on Florida history written by Richard Keith Call and Ellen Call Long, and miscellaneous materials connected to the life and times of the Call family.

Resources

Florida Department of Agriculture and Consumer Services. “Florida Forests.” Accessed April 25, 2018.  https://www.freshfromflorida.com/Divisions-Offices/Florida-Forest-Service/For-Landowners/Management-Planning/Florida-Forests.

Proceedings of the American Forestry Congress at its Meeting Held at Atlanta, Ga., December, 1888. Washington: Gibson Bros., 1889.

“Save the Trees: Work of the Southern Forestry Congress.” The Weekly Advertiser (Montgomery, Alabama), November 3, 1887.

“Southern Forestry Congress.” The Weekly Advertiser (Montgomery, Alabama), December 22, 1885.

The Grove Museum. “Ellen Call Long.” Accessed April 25, 2018.  http://thegrovemuseum.com/learn/history/ellen/.

“The Southern Forestry Congress.” The Morning Mercury (Huntsville, Alabama), October 15, 1885.

“The Southern Forestry Congress.” The Weekly Advertiser (Montgomery, Alabama), February 3, 1887.

A Brush with the Black Death

If you thought bubonic plague only caused epidemics in medieval Europe, think again! Pensacola experienced an outbreak of the infamous disease in 1920 that resulted in at least seven deaths. The episode turned out to be a transitional moment for public health in the city, as local, state and federal officials took action to prevent future attacks.

A schooner loading lumber in Pensacola Harbor, ca. 1900. Ships like this one may have been the source of the rats (and fleas) that transmitted the bubonic plague to humans during the outbreak of 1920.

A schooner loading lumber in Pensacola Harbor, ca. 1900. Ships like this one may have been the source of the rats (and fleas) that transmitted the bubonic plague to humans during the outbreak of 1920.

Bubonic plague is caused by the bacterium Yersinia pestis, typically spread by infected fleas on small rodents like mice or rats. Vaccines don’t do much to prevent the plague, but it responds well to several kinds of antibiotics. Unfortunately, those medicines were not around in the 14th century when the bubonic plague struck Europe, resulting in the deaths of somewhere between 30 and 60 percent of the population. The term “Black Death” is often used to describe this European outbreak, likely a reference to the dark lesions infected patients would develop under the skin as a result of internal bleeding. In reality, people at that time usually called the epidemic the “Big Death” or “Great Mortality.” After a series of later historians continued to use “Black Death” instead, however, the name stuck.

Bites from fleas like this one are typically responsible for transmitting the bubonic plague to humans.

Bites from fleas like this one are typically responsible for transmitting the bubonic plague to humans. Image courtesy of the University of Florida’s Institute of Food and Agricultural Sciences.

The bubonic plague didn’t die with the Middle Ages. Outbreaks have occurred in every century since the Black Death, including as recently as 2017 in Madagascar. The plague outbreak in Pensacola was discovered by local physician Dr. Herbert Lee Bryans in June 1920 when one of his patients became very suddenly ill and delirious with fever. When the patient also developed a telltale “bubo” (a swollen and darkened gland infected by plague bacteria) near his groin, Bryans suspected something unusual and contacted the state bacteriologist, Dr. Fritz Albert Brink. After personally examining the patient, Brink quickly diagnosed the disease as the bubonic plague.

The World War I service card of Dr. Herbert Lee Bryans, the physician who first sounded the alarm in the Pensacola outbreak of plague in 1920.

The World War I service card of Dr. Herbert Lee Bryans, the physician who first sounded the alarm in the Pensacola outbreak of plague in 1920. Dr. Bryans served in the U.S. Army Medical Corps and was briefly on detached duty with the British Royal Army Medical Corps in England, Belgium and France. Click to enlarge the image.

To verify his suspicions, Brink took samples from the bubo, which he then injected into two guinea pigs. He also prepared slides to view under a microscope. All tests confirmed his original diagnosis. The guinea pigs quickly developed symptoms of plague and died, and the slides revealed bacteria consistent with Yersinia pestis. 

To stop the disease from spreading further, its source needed to be identified quickly. Bryans’ patient had not left Pensacola or been aboard a ship anytime recently, which ruled out the possibility that he had brought the disease into the city from someplace else. Still, several more cases appeared in June 1920. Since the modern bubonic plague generally cannot spread from person to person, this meant the source of infection had to be the fleas infesting local rodents.

Public health officials blamed rodents like this rat for harboring the fleas that transmitted the plague bacteria to humans.

Public health officials blamed rodents like this rat for harboring the fleas that transmitted the plague bacteria to humans.

Florida’s State Board of Health sprung into action, with support from the U.S. Public Health Service. The state officials already had a laboratory in Pensacola at the corner of Palafox and Cervantes streets, which became the control center for the eradication effort. Federal health authorities also brought in Hamilton, a mobile laboratory train car, to assist. The human plague victims were isolated and those who consented were treated with serum. Out of 10 total cases, seven victims died.

Flyer urging Pensacola citizens to cooperate with public health officials to help end the bubonic plague outbreak (1920).

Flier urging Pensacola citizens to cooperate with public health officials to help end the bubonic plague outbreak (1920). Box 1, Folder 22, Florida Health Notes Photographs (Series 917).

Meanwhile, city, state and federal authorities launched an all-out effort to eradicate the rodents responsible for harboring the infected fleas. The public health experts captured, examined and disposed of over 35,000 rats and mice from June 1920 to July 1921, carefully studying the fleas that came with them. The program’s final report gives 211 as the largest number of fleas found on a single rat, although the average was closer to about 10. City officials encouraged the public to do their share by trapping rats, covering them in oil to kill the fleas and turning them in to the public health experts for processing.

Map showing the locations of rats and humans found to be infected with bubonic plague bacteria. Both categories of infected cases are numbered in order of their discovery.

Map showing the locations of rats and humans found to be infected with bubonic plague bacteria. Both categories of infected cases are numbered in order of their discovery. Box 1, Folder 9, State Board of Health Subject Files (Series 900).

Wherever rats infected with plague bacteria were found, a team followed behind to clean up whatever conditions had made the property attractive to them. The eradication program ultimately used 1,228 pounds of cyanide and 1,854 pints of sulphuric acid to fumigate buildings. The team also demolished seven houses and hauled 280 truckloads of trash and debris to the city dumps. The city government did its part to prevent future rodent infestations by passing new ordinances requiring business owners and residents to ratproof their buildings. Plank sidewalks, which offered rats and mice a convenient space to live, were outlawed and replaced with stone, brick or concrete. Under the new laws, incoming ships had to attach rat shields to their mooring lines, and ramps and gangplanks leading from the ship to the wharf had to be taken up when not in use.

Pensacola’s brush with the bubonic plague was brief, but it still cost the city seven lives. Local citizens took the matter seriously, however, and acted quickly in ways that ultimately made Pensacola a safer, healthier place to live and work.

If you enjoyed reading about this episode in the history of Florida’s public health, check out our online exhibit, Pestilence, Potions, and Persistence: Early Florida Medicine.

Sources:

John Kelly. The Great Mortality: An Intimate History of the Black Death, the Most Devastating Plague of All Time. New York: HarperCollins, 2005.

 

 

How’s Your Head, Governor Drew?

Can you guess which Florida governor weighed 185 pounds, had a brain 23¼ inches in diameter and was reportedly an uncommonly good judge of character? Stumped? To be fair, we wouldn’t have known either, had he not taken the time to consult a phrenologist while visiting New York in 1867. We recently came across the phrenologist’s report in this governor’s family papers and made it available on Florida Memory.

Cover of a phrenological character reading of George Franklin Drew, conducted by phrenologist Nelson Sizer on March 11, 1867 in New York City.

Cover of a phrenological character reading of George Franklin Drew, conducted by phrenologist Nelson Sizer on March 11, 1867 in New York City. Click the image to view the entire report.

Phrenology was a pseudo-science popular mainly in the early 19th century. Its founders, German physicians Franz Joseph Gall and Johann Spurzheim, claimed it was possible to determine the size and mental capacity of a person’s brain based on the bumps and indentations on the outside of the head. Phrenologists, who soon popped up on both sides of the Atlantic, would take measurements of a person’s head, note the places where it seemed to either be bulging or denting, and then write a report explaining the person’s character. The assumption was that every area of the brain covered a different aspect of personality and behavior. The more brain matter you had in a particular region, the more pronounced the corresponding trait would be.

Diagram illustrating the various

Diagram illustrating the various “faculties” of the brain, according to phrenologists.

Now a bit about Governor Drew. George Franklin Drew was born August 6, 1827, in New Hampshire, and got his start as a machinist’s apprentice in Massachusetts. At the age of 20, he moved to Columbus, Georgia, and started up his own machine shop before turning to the lumber industry. When the Civil War broke out in 1861, Drew opposed secession, which didn’t sit well with some of his neighbors, and he spent most of the war confined in Savannah.

Portrait of George Franklin Drew, likely taken during his administration as Florida's 12th state governor (1877-1881).

Portrait of George Franklin Drew, likely taken during his administration as Florida’s 12th state governor (1877-1881).

After the war, Drew originally intended to move with his family to Brazil, but he only made it as far south as Suwannee County, Florida, where he invested his remaining fortune in timber land and a sawmill. He later moved his operation to Ellaville in Madison County, and built what was then believed to be the largest sawmill in the South.

Drew Lumber Company sawmill on the Suwannee River at Ellaville (ca. 1875).

Drew Lumber Company sawmill on the Suwannee River at Ellaville (ca. 1875).

It was during this era of his life that Drew visited New York City, probably on business, and happened to stop by the Fowler and Wells Phrenological Cabinet, a museum with plaster casts of heads and skulls and all kinds of memorabilia associated with the phrenology movement. While there, he received a full phrenological workup from Nelson Sizer, professor of “mental science” in the American Phrenological Institute and associate editor of the American Phrenological Journal. Sizer’s report on Drew was lengthy, but here are a few of the characteristics he “discovered” in the future governor while examining his head:

  • He was a good judge of character.
  • He appreciated people of principle and expected others to practice what they preached.
  • He liked to eat. Sizer wrote, “You have a strong appetite, which should be regulated.”
  • He was eager to be respected.

Sizer also offered Drew some advice, mainly regarding his diet:

  • Avoid pork and pastry and “highly seasoned things.”
  • Don’t use tobacco.
  • Eat lean beef and tart fruits and cut down on butter and sugar.

Sizer’s report was vague, but his overall positive view of Drew’s talent for business and management seemed to ring true. Drew’s lumber operations continued to grow, and he expanded into railroads and the mercantile trade as well. In 1870, he became chairman of the Madison County Commission, and in 1876 Florida’s Democratic Party nominated him for governor. The election results were close in both the presidential and gubernatorial elections that year. The initial returns gave the governorship of Florida to the incumbent, Marcellus Stearns, but a Supreme Court-mandated recount revealed George Franklin Drew as the winner. Drew served one term as governor, the first Democrat to hold that office since Florida had been readmitted to the Union after the Civil War. His administration effectively ended Reconstruction in Florida, and no Republican would again occupy the governor’s mansion until Claude Kirk took office in 1967.

Governor Drew's signature, in this case applied to a legislative act establishing a game hunting season. Volume 69, Acts and Resolutions of the Legislature (Series 222), State Archives of Florida.

Governor Drew’s signature, in this case applied to a legislative act establishing a game hunting season. Volume 69, Acts and Resolutions of the Legislature (Series 222), State Archives of Florida.

Shortly after returning to private life, Drew sold off his lumbering interests and moved to Jacksonville, where he spent the remainder of his days. On September 24, 1900, Drew’s wife Amelia experienced a stroke, which the former governor described in a letter to their daughter Vannie. “We have lived together so many years,” he wrote, “that I don’t care to live after she is taken away.” Drew meant what he said. Two hours after Amelia died on September 26th, Governor Drew himself collapsed and died. The local newspaper diagnosed the cause as simply a broken heart.

Governor George Franklin Drew's final letter, written to his daughter Vannie on September 24, 1900. Drew Family Papers (M82-8), State Archives of Florida.

Governor George Franklin Drew’s final letter, written to his daughter Vannie on September 24, 1900.

Looking for more information about Florida’s governors? Try searching the Florida Photographic Collection or Selected Documents!

Roxcy Bolton: A Force for Equality

Florida feminist Roxcy Bolton spent her life advocating for women’s rights in the state and around the country. A long-time Coral Gables resident, Bolton is credited with gaining access for women to the previously all-male lunchrooms at Burdines and Jordan Marsh department stores; for helping to end the practice of naming hurricanes only for women; and for opening the influential Tiger Bay political club to women. Today, we’re taking a look at the Roxcy O’Neal Bolton Papers (M94-1) for a glimpse of Bolton’s efforts to promote women’s rights.

Portrait of Roxcy Bolton in the 1960s.

Roxcy Bolton was born Roxcy O’Neal in 1926 to a Mississippi pioneer family. Bolton became actively involved in community issues and in Democratic Party organizations in the 1950s. She was profoundly affected by Eleanor Roosevelt’s address at the 1956 Democratic National Convention and was motivated to action by the contrast between what women were obviously capable of accomplishing and the fact that “all the men were making the decisions.” Shortly thereafter, Bolton began her women’s rights activism when she spoke before a Democratic women’s group in Fort Lauderdale to advocate equal pay for equal work.

In 1960, Roxcy O’Neal married Commander David Bolton, a U.S. Navy lawyer. They lived for a time in Japan and in Charleston, South Carolina. Upon David Bolton’s retirement from the Navy in 1964, they moved to Coral Gables, where they raised their three children, David B., Bonnie D., and Buddy Bolton.

Florida Parades for the Equal Rights Amendment pamphlet signed by feminist Betty Friedan. The event was presented by the National Organization for Women of Florida, April 14, 1975. Roxcy Bolton was a speaker at the event.

Bolton was one of the first Florida women to join the National Organization for Women (NOW) after its founding in 1966, and she served as national vice president after being elected to the board of directors in 1968. She also founded and served as the first president of the Miami-Dade Chapter of NOW in 1968. Bolton took NOW’s message to county commissioners, town councils and university presidents, arguing the case for equal rights for women and actively campaigning for the Equal Rights Amendment (ERA). She convinced U.S. Senator Birch Bayh to hold the first hearings on the ERA before Congress in 1970.

In 1972, Bolton was the driving force behind the designation of August 26 as Women’s Equality Day. The proclamation by President Richard Nixon establishing the day was later presented to Bolton in recognition of her diligent work for equal rights. In the video below, Bolton describes her effort to establish Women’s Equality Day:

That same year, after years of personally assisting women in need of clothing, guidance through the legal system, or a sympathetic ear, Bolton founded an organization called Women in Distress. Now operated by the Salvation Army, Women in Distress provides temporary lodging, legal assistance, counseling and caring support to battered women, those with substance abuse problems and other women in personal crisis. (Read more in our blog Roxcy Bolton: Advocate for Women in Crisis.)

In another pioneering effort, Bolton initiated the Rehabilitation Program for Young Prostitutes in the Miami-Dade County area, which offered educational opportunities to incarcerated prostitutes and attempted to keep young women off the streets and away from drugs.

Letter from Florida Attorney General Robert L. Shevin to Roxcy Bolton concerning the revamping of Florida’s rape statute to establish degrees of rape, June 5, 1974.

Bolton worked to establish Commissions on the Status of Women in state government and in Miami-Dade and Palm Beach counties, fought for increased numbers of women in policy-making positions, pushed for the creation of the Women’s Institute at Florida Atlantic University and led a sit-in at the University of Miami protesting the unequal treatment of female students and faculty.

She also led the effort to create yet another first for Florida and the nation; Women’s Park was established in Miami-Dade County in 1992 as a tribute to past and present women leaders in South Florida.

Women’s Rights Day proclamation signed by President Richard Nixon that was presented to Roxcy Bolton by U.S. Senator Edward J. Gurney. President Nixon designated August 26, 1972, as Women’s Rights Day.

Roxcy O’Neal Bolton never wavered in her struggle for equal rights. Her many years of pioneering equal rights activism earned her numerous awards, including her 1984 induction into the Florida Women’s Hall of Fame.

Bolton died in Coral Gables on May 17, 2017, at the age of 90.

You can view more records from the Roxcy Bolton Papers collection on Florida Memory.

See more documents below:

Senate Memorial No. 1452 presented to Roxcy Bolton by Senator Edmond J. Gong, 1970.

Letter from Senator Edward Gurney to Roxcy Bolton, 1971.

Letter from Senator Edward Gurney to Roxcy Bolton, 1972.

Draft of testimony written by Roxcy Bolton in support of the Equal Rights Amendment given to the Select Committee on the Equal Rights Amendment, 1973.

Letter from vice president and publicity director of Burdine’s to Roxcy Bolton, 1969.

Letter from Estelle J.M. Greene to Roxcy Bolton, 1972.

Letter from Thomas V. Zemsta to Roxcy Bolton, 1971.

Letter from Roxcy Bolton to Thomas V. Zemsta of the Playboy Plaza Hotel, 1971.

Handwritten letter from Roxcy Bolton to Thomas V. Zemsta of the Playboy Plaza Hotel, 1971.

Letter from staff assistant to President George T. Bell to Roxcy Bolton, June 9, 1970.

Letter from staff assistant to President George T. Bell to Roxcy Bolton, June 5, 1970.

Congress of Racial Equality (CORE)

In the summer of 1959, the Congress of Racial Equality (CORE) organized the Miami Interracial Action Institute and taught attendees principles of non-violent direct action to combat inequality in the South. Two attendees, sisters Patricia and Priscilla Stephens, took these principles with them when they returned to Tallahassee for school and formed the Tallahassee chapter of CORE. Using tactics they learned at the CORE workshop, the Stephens sisters held their first sit-in at the Woolworth’s lunch counter in Tallahassee on February 13, 1960, and a second sit-in at the same lunch counter a week later, which led to the arrest of the sisters and a group of other students. Rather than pay their fines, eight students opted for jail time, effectively launching the first jail-in of the civil rights movement.

The eight jailed students and CORE were suddenly thrown into the national spotlight. CORE used the opportunity to draw attention to their organization. What were CORE’s principles, and how could people join the growing civil rights movement through CORE? Using records from the Patricia Stephens Due Papers (N2015-1), we take a look at the materials CORE published and how young activists in Florida, including the Stephens sisters, used CORE as the foundation for fighting racial discrimination.

Participants in the CORE Miami Interracial Action Institute in 1959 at the Sir John Hotel. Seated, left to right: Mrs. Shirley Zoloth, Patricia Stephens (later Due), person unknown, Vera Williams and Priscilla Stephens (later Kruize). Standing, left to right: Jim Dewar, Zev Aelony, person unknown, James T. McCain and Gordon Carey.

CORE formed its Miami chapter in 1959 and the Tallahassee chapter emerged soon after. By the time the organization made its way to Florida, CORE had been active in the United States for nearly two decades. Started in 1942 by pacifist students at the University of Chicago, CORE’s members wanted to use Gandhian techniques of non-violent direct action to improve race relations in the United States. CORE grew out of another pacifist organization, the Fellowship of Reconciliation (FOR), which was started during World War II with a focus on non-violent direct action for social justice. The first course of action for CORE was to counter the discriminatory housing market in the Chicago area, but their activism quickly grew to a national scale when CORE members decided to target bus segregation in the South.

A pamphlet about CORE’s principles of non-violent direct action which includes 13 rules for action, ca. 1957.

In April 1947, 16 male CORE and FOR members began a project called the “Journey of Reconciliation” through Virginia, North Carolina, Tennessee and Kentucky to test integration on interstate buses. The eight black and eight white activists were responding to the recent U.S. Supreme Court decision in Irene Morgan v. Commonwealth of Virginia (1946), which ruled segregation in interstate bus travel unconstitutional. With the law on their side, the 16 men rode buses and trains across these Southern states. Some were arrested, but others were able to ride public transportation without any attention. When a rider was confronted, he would use the non-violent tactics he had learned and cite the Supreme Court decision. Although this protest against bus segregation received little national press coverage at the time and resulted in almost no changes to discriminatory policies, it paved the way for the Freedom Rides in 1961.

A CORE flier encouraging people to boycott Shell’s City in Miami for refusing to serve African-Americans at its lunch counter, ca. 1960.

In the mid-1950s, CORE slowly began to establish chapters throughout the country. After the first all-white school in Miami was integrated in 1959, CORE headed to this southern city and started a chapter. CORE then decided to host the Interracial Action Institute, which the Stephens sisters and 10 others from all over the U.S. attended. One of the purposes of the institute was to train participants to use non-violent direct action “as a weapon to advance integration.” Since CORE couldn’t be everywhere at once, their goal was to train people locally so they could then use CORE tactics in their communities. At the institute, participants went through intensive training by role-playing different scenarios they might encounter while holding their demonstrations and were taught how to respond. Participants then put theory into practice, leading a voter registration drive by going door to door in black communities and holding lunch counters sit-ins to challenge discriminatory policies under the guidance of CORE leaders. When the workshop was over, participants went back to their homes to carry on the fight for equality.

Leaflet with guidelines for how to carry out CORE pickets, February 26, 1960.

The Stephens sisters returned to Tallahassee for the fall semester at Florida Agricultural and Mechanical University (FAMU) ready to challenge discrimination in the capital city. They quickly formed a CORE chapter in Tallahassee and began documenting instances of discriminatory policies. The February 1, 1960, lunch counter demonstration at the Woolworth store in Greensboro, North Carolina, laid the groundwork for sit-ins across the South. Inspired by the non-violent direct action demonstration of the four students in Greensboro, national CORE asked local chapters to hold sympathy demonstrations in their communities. Ten students, including the Stephens sisters, participated in a sympathy sit-in at Woolworth’s lunch counter in Tallahassee on February 13. The students ordered slices of cake and were refused service. During their two hours at the lunch counter, the students were derided by onlookers, but they remained faithful to their CORE training and didn’t engage with the crowd. When Woolworth’s management closed the counter, the students went home.

CORE members holding a sit-in at Woolworth’s lunch counter on February 13, 1960. Patricia Stephens is wearing dark glasses and Henry Steele Jr. sits closest to the camera.

After this first sit-in, Tallahassee CORE planned another for the following Saturday. On February 20, a group of 17 demonstrators made their way to the Woolworth’s lunch counter and ordered food. Most of the group was composed of FAMU students, but there were also high school students participating. A large group surrounded the demonstrators and told them to move from their seats. Seven of them did leave, but the 11 remaining demonstrators were arrested by police. At their trial, they were charged with disturbing the peace. All of them were found guilty and given the option to pay a $300 fine or spend 60 days in jail. Eight students, including the Stephens sisters, refused to pay the fine. Rather than pay, they chose to hold the first jail-in of the civil rights movement. As a result, CORE and its principles of non-violent direct action were placed in the national spotlight, and people from all over the country wrote to the jailed students to offer support for their demonstrations. When the students were released from jail after serving 49 days, they persistently pursued racial equality in the United States.

A booklet published by CORE consisting of six stories written by young people involved with sit-ins and other non-violent demonstrations across the United States, May 1960. Patricia Stephens  tells her story from jail where she was serving her 60-day sentence with seven other activists, including her sister, Priscilla. Patricia writes about the events leading up to being jailed and the conditions at the Leon County Jail in Tallahassee. The other five stories were written by Edward Rodman (Portsmouth, Virginia), Paul Laprad (Nashville, Tennessee), Thomas Gaither (Orangeburg, South Carolina), Major Johns (Baton Rouge, Louisiana) and Martin Smolin (activities in the North).

Activists continued to use the principles of CORE throughout the civil rights movement. Financial problems and internal disputes, which plagued CORE from the beginning, led to the collapse of many local chapters by the mid-1960s. Now CORE is remembered as one of the leading organizations during the fight for civil rights and as the catalyst for civil rights activities in Florida.

You can learn more about the Tallahassee jail-in in our online collection, Stephens Sisters Jail-In Papers, 1960.

Resources

Catsam, Derek Charles. Freedom’s Main Line: The Journey of Reconciliation and the Freedom Rides. Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 2009.

Due, Tananarive, and Patricia Stephens Due. Freedom in the Family: A Mother-Daughter Memoir of the Fight for Civil Rights. New York: Ballantine Books, 2003.

Gates, Jr., Henry Louis. Life Upon These Shores: Looking at African American History 1513-2008. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 2011.

Meier, August, and Elliott Rudwick. CORE: A Study in the Civil Rights Movement 1942-1968. New York: Oxford University Press, 1973.

Mohl, Raymond A. South of the South: Jewish Activists and the Civil Rights Movement in Miami, 1945-1960. Gainesville: University Press of Florida, 2004.

Ernest “Boots” Thomas: Florida’s Unsung Hero

On the morning of February 23, 1945, a group of brave Marines, surrounded by enemy fire, made their way to the top of Mount Suribachi on Iwo Jima, Japan, in the midst of a battle for the island. After nearly four days of fighting, six Marines planted a flag atop the 550-foot summit as a symbol of hope and endurance to encourage their brothers in arms to keep fighting. This event preceded a second flag raising four hours later in the same spot that was immortalized in a photograph taken by Associated Press photographer Joe Rosenthal.

A sculpture of the second flag raising on Iwo Jima inspired by Joe Rosenthal’s famous photograph. The sculpture was located at Cape Coral Gardens in Cape Coral, Florida, until it was moved to Four Mile Cove Ecological Preserve.

Staff Sergeant Louis R. Lowery photographed the first flag raising on the morning of February 23. These six infantrymen were from the 3rd Platoon, Company E, Second Battalion, 28th Marines, Fifth Marine Division. One of the men on the summit was Platoon Sergeant Ernest Ivy “Boots” Thomas Jr. who grew up in the small city of Monticello in the Florida Panhandle. Just shy of his 21st birthday, this young platoon sergeant bravely led his men up the summit that morning to help plant the flag and was then immediately whisked away to report the event to the press. A second flag was raised because it was decided that the first flag wasn’t large enough for all American forces to see.

Photograph taken by Louis Lowery of the first flag raising on Iwo Jima, February 23, 1945. Platoon Sergeant Thomas stands on the mound with his rifle and faces the camera. Corporal Charles W. Lindberg, Navy Pharmacist’s Mate 2nd Class John Bradley, Sergeant Henry Hansen, 1st Lieutenant Harold G. Schrier and Private Philip L. Ward are also in the photograph.

Born in Tampa to Ernest and Martha Thomas, “Boots,” as some of his friends called him, graduated from Monticello High School and attended Tri-State College in Angola, Indiana, for one year. He enlisted in the Marine Corps in 1942 following the attack on Pearl Harbor in December 1941. After basic training, Thomas stayed to work as a drill instructor but continued to request combat duty. In 1944, he was sent overseas, and his first and only combat experience was on Iwo Jima. On February 21, two days after landing on Iwo Jima, Thomas’s platoon commander was wounded in action. Under enemy fire, Thomas assumed command and continued the assault. His men were successful in defeating the enemy in this sector and Thomas’s valiant efforts earned him the Navy Cross for heroism. Two days later, Thomas was on the summit with five of his men raising the American flag. As the Battle of Iwo Jima continued, thousands of men on both sides lost their lives, including Thomas, who was killed by enemy gun fire on March 3. He was buried at Iwo Jima, but his body was returned to Monticello after the war and laid to rest at Roseland Cemetery. The Navy Cross was awarded posthumously to Platoon Sergeant Thomas and presented to his mother in June 1946.

Platoon Sergeant Thomas’s mother, Martha, viewing a display of World War II flags at the Historic Capitol in Tallahassee with Governor Millard F. Caldwell, 1945.

In 1978, there was a push to honor the fallen soldier from Florida with a memorial in Monticello. State Senator Pat Thomas addressed the Senate on May 17, 1978, with Senate Concurrent Resolution 1024, to honor the bravery and heroism of Platoon Sergeant Thomas and endorse building a memorial in his honor. In his speech to the Florida Senate, Senator Thomas explained the need for the memorial saying, “We sometimes take for granted the freedoms we enjoy, which other men fought and died to preserve. So I think it is appropriate for us to occasionally take time to reflect on those great men and their great deeds.” Platoon Sergeant Thomas’s sister and brother-in-law, Jean and Billy Bishop, were on hand to receive a copy of the resolution. Senator Thomas’s speech from series 1238, box 42, tape 12 can be heard below.


Download MP3

Copy of SCR 1024 recognizing the heroism of Sergeant Thomas and endorsing a memorial dedicated to him, May 17, 1978. It was also endorsed by the Florida House of Representatives with HB 1914. State Archives of Florida, Series 18, Box 636, Folder SRC 1024 by Sen. P. Thomas.

Three years later, on February 22, 1981, the memorial to Thomas was unveiled at a ceremony in Monticello. The monument is eight feet tall and five feet wide and depicts the first flag raising. Thomas’s brother, Jack Thomas, and sister, Jean, were present at the unveiling, as were some of the men who served with Thomas at Iwo Jima. Today, visitors to the memorial can take a moment to remember the sacrifice Platoon Sergeant Thomas and many other service members made for their country during World War II.

The monument to the first flag raisers on Iwo Jima located in Monticello, Florida, 1981. In a 2016 investigation by the Marine Corps, it was discovered that Private First Class James Michels and Private First Class Louis Charlo were not on the summit that day. The official record now states that Navy Pharmacist’s Mate 2nd Class John Bradley and Private Philip L. Ward were there that day.

A plaque describing Sergeant Thomas’s heroism stands by his grave at Roseland Cemetery in Monticello, Florida, 2018.

The monument in Monticello is located near 935 West Washington (US-90). Thomas’s grave is located at Roseland Cemetery in Monticello and includes a plaque dedicated to his heroism.

Resources

Bacon, Lance M. “Marines Say Men in First Iwo Jima Flag-Raising Photo Were Also Misidentified.” Marine Corps Times, August 24, 2016. https://www.marinecorpstimes.com/2016/08/24/marines-say-men-in-first-iwo-jima-flag-raising-photo-were-also-misidentified/.

Dailey, Ryan. “‘Boots Thomas: a Marine, a Hero and a Friend.” Tallahassee Democrat, October 29, 2015. http://www.tallahassee.com/story/news/2015/10/29/boots-thomas-marine-hero-and-friend/74805402/.

Goldstein, Richard. “Joe Rosenthal, Photographer at Iwo Jima, Dies.” New York Times, August 21, 2006. http://www.nytimes.com/2006/08/21/business/media/22rosenthalcnd.html.

Hayes, Paula. “Brave Local Man Hero On Iwo Jima.” Monticello News, February 23, 1978. State Library of Florida, Vertical File, Thomas-Thomason.

Journal of the Senate, Number 29, May 17, 1978, pages 388-389.  http://archive.flsenate.gov/data/Historical/Senate%20Journals/1970s/1978/35-379TO40305_17_78.PDF.

“Thomas Memorial To Be Dedicated.” Monticello News, February 19, 1981. State Library of Florida, Vertical File, Thomas-Thomason.