"The Way It Was" Newspaper Column on Baker County, Florida History, 1981 part 1 File contributed for use in USGenWeb Archives by Gene Barber (no email address), through Carl Mobley (cmobley@magicnet.net) USGENWEB NOTICE: In keeping with our policy of providing free information on the Internet, data may be used by non-commercial entities, as long as this message remains on all copied material. These electronic pages cannot be reproduced in any format for profit or other presentation. This file may not be removed from this server or altered in any way for placement on another server without the consent of the State and USGenWeb Project coordinators and the contributor. *********************************************************************** THE WAY IT WAS ------------------------------------------------------------ William Eugene "Gene" Barber, Artist, Instructor, Historian & Genealogist authored a series of articles for the Baker County Press entitled "The Way It Was". His articles covered all aspects of Baker County pioneers lives in a colorful, entertaining, as well as, educational manner. At an early age, Gene possessed the desire and ability to interview the 'Old Folks'. He was as talented in the use of the pen, as he is with a brush, choosing his words and expressions in a way to paint an exciting and interesting story. Contents: Contents: * Ghosts of Christmas Past, not-so-long-past, to-come Conclusion * Some comments on the past year * Reminiscing with Paul Taylor * The Militia of 1837 * A Cracker Lexicon - Two Parts * John & Mollie Crews * When bombs rained on Baker County * Names and views from behind those framed photographs - Two Parts * Catholicism in Baker County - Three Parts * Children of the Confederacy * The Glen Centennial - Part one * The Glen Centennial - Part two * The rape of the Osceola Forest * The Glen Centennial - A photo story (in part 2) * The Glen Centennial - Charly W. Turner (in part 2) * The Glen Centennial - 'The second Yankee invasion' (in part 2) * The Glen Centennial - More faces from the past..... (in part 2) * History of the arts here (in part 2) * Glen in the 1880's (in part 2) * The Glen Centennial - Conclusion (in part 2) * A Baker County map of 1840 (in part 2) * Francis Marion Brown (in part 2) * Cracker Manifesto (in part 2) * Reminiscing at the Beaches (in part 2) * Columns draw readers' ire (in part 2) * Post offices in Glen St. Mary (in part 2) * The demise of the front porch (in part 2) * The demise of the front porch - conclusion (in part 2) * The Okefenokee Swamp - Part one (in part 2) * The Okefenokee Swamp -Part Two (in part 2) * The Okefenokee Swamp - Part Three (in part 2) * The Okefenokee (in part 3) * No article this week [Sep 10, 1981] (in part 3) * Rufus Powers grew up with Glen (in part 3) * In the spirit of the Centennial (in part 3) * The Glen Centennial - Appraisal and appreciation (in part 3) * The Okefenokee Swamp - A resumption of the series (in part 3) * People of the Okefenokee - The Indians (in part 3) * The Okefenokee - The whites move in....and out (in part 3) * The Okefenokee - Assorted legends, haints and boogers (in part 3) * It's time to mobilize - Against strip-mining in the Osceola (in part 3) * The turn of the Century (in part 3) * Data from some old maps (in part 3) * Thanksgiving feasts of old (in part 3) * Looking ahead at Olustee (in part 3) * Christmas 1981 (in part 3) * To a mellow Christmas (in part 3) * After 'The Day After' (in part 3) * Potpourri of the year 1981 (in part 3) _____________________________________________________________________________ THE BAKER COUNTY PRESS, Thursday January 1, 1981 Page Two THE WAY IT WAS - Gene Barber Ghosts of Christmas past, not-so-long-past, to-come Conclusion For those of you biting your nails in anticipations since our last cliff-hanger, here is the exciting conclusion: "Well, Ghost of Christmas Perhaps to Come, your name doesn't strike a cheery note of optimism, but let's get it over with. Where to this time?" "See for yourself," the little fellow chirped as he flew up and down and sometimes faded from view. I supposed our destination to have been the city because there was not a patch of nature's green in sight. We were in the shadow of a tall apartment complex, and sharing the shadow with us was a sprawling mobile home community. Beyond the house trailers was a poorly kept garbage landfill. A nearby convenience store advertised "Labor Day Dope Sold Here" and "Christmas Fun Candy." Christmas Perhaps to Come advised me, "Even in your day, they were pushing Christmas earlier and earlier. This store, for instance, just pulled down its Fourth of July bunting." Small groups of zombie-like kids drifted or stood about the asphalted lot carrying signs proclaiming, "Vote Sybarite-the Party for a Year-Round High." Little Perhaps advised, "A coalition of your old Redneck types and burned-out Hippies. The Sybarites' initial image was that of a haven for free-thinking voters of the adolescent age. They also appealed to disillusioned liberals and conservatives, both fearful of the radical directions their parties were taking." "Christmas," he added, "a six month celebration-vacation is among their strongest platform promises. Wouldn't that be wonderful?" "No," I snapped. "Where are all the Democrats and Republicans? And the Independents? And also, where's the grass...er, the vegetation?" "Oh, it's terribly gauche to be Democrat or Republican these days, and nobody, but nobody, dares to be independent." I mopped my brow from the summer heat, almost longing for my cold attic room. "Who's responsible for this strange party? Who's pulling the strings from the bottom? The Commies? Big Business? Some.....?" "Nobody," answered Perhaps as he pirouetted in the air (very disconcerting to one in need of answers). "It just happened. Started around the social circles of Washington and the wine and pot parties of the Redneck chic. As usual, the image makers in advertising grabbed it and sold it to business, which used it to sell automobiles, booze, and the latest fad gadgets. Blacks, the poor (so-called and in fact) and others were exploited shamelessly. It was a rallying cry among misunderstood youth and tired, irresponsible parents alike." "Surely," I offered, "there are some left from the old days who would rebel against this wasting of the mind by such blatant appeals to the bodily senses?" "Probably not," answered Perhaps. "Even in your day, the majority of the public about you was hooked on dope of some sort--alcohol every day as a matter of course, a joint or two to get into a party spirit, and most people your age and above were popping aspirin and prescription pain killers and tranquilizers. Why should there be any left from your day to protest? They are part of it." "First of all, I'd prefer you to not ring out on that 'from my day' bit so much," I declared between clenched teeth. "And what is that stump over there?" "Never mind. Here's an historical marker. It's badly defaced, but it says something about being erected to mark the site of the last tree in the former political unit of Baker County, Florida." Walking around the big remains of the water oak, I spied a piece of terra cotta pipe partly enveloped by the bark, just like the big water oak that once stood in my yard. There was a corner of a pink brick protruding from between embracing roots, just like the one in my yard. "Perhaps, Old Boy, this is, or was, my tree, isn't it?" "Does it make you sad?" he asked while still cavorting in the air. I had to mull it all over in my mind for a while. "No. No,. I reckon not. I cannot and would not hold to the past or alter the future, but if you'll get me back to 1980 and my 73 pounds of cats, I'll do what I can about properly using and living every precious moment I'll know I am possessing. I'll share my limited abilities and perform in deed rather than words only. I'll......." "And let mankind be free to take its own course, good or bad, right?" interrupted Perhaps. "Right." in taking one last visual sweep of the trashy asphalt and dingy concrete world that once had been lovely Turkey Creek, I saw a spindly-limbed kid propped against the convenience store. He labored with a stubby pencil trying to graphically reproduce a tree from the clues offered by the giant stump. Seems like, on that reassuring note, we should have exited to the stirring 'Hallelujah Chorus,' but, instead, a radio somewhere pumped out something about 'I spent Christmas with Jeremiah the Toadfrog, and we got hopped up together, ey, ey, ey,..." The remainder of the story is both superfluous and anticlimactic; I waked, threw open the window and called to a passing lad to tell me what day it was, sent a fine goose over to the Cratchet's, etc. _____________________________________________________________________________ THE BAKER COUNTY PRESS, Thursday, January 8, 1981 Page Two THE WAY IT WAS - Gene Barber Some comments on the past year Over a holiday coffee table this writer was asked if he had an opinion on 1980 (Imagine anybody thinking this column would have an opinion about anything!). We pondered a bit, and with a minimum of circumlocution, here are our thoughts on some events ot the past year. The holding of 52 Americans by a country controlled by adolescent-minded religious fanatics for well over a year is exceedingly embarrassing. After dallying around for so long, anything we do now, foolish or laudable, will be wrong, but the changes of administration and political philosophy in Washington has presented us with one more opportunity to act. Earthquakes in Italy and Algeria: beyond the charges and accusations regarding the lack of warnings and the relief scandals following those tragedies comes the very sobering realization that nature doesn't care when, who, and how hard she strikes, and she couldn't care less about mankind's puny greed and politics. This column saw the Olympic boycott as a just but weak protest against the bullying tactics of the USSR, Since our nation refuses to cut all critical aid to Russia, staying away from games is a bit silly by itself. This column would have liked to have personally popped the jaws of the athletes whose whines about missing their big opportunity drowned out the shrieks of the Afghan victims. The Polish Workers strike: maybe the old Soviet Bloc isn't as invincible as we once fearfully believed.. Remember, with very few exceptions, every little nation jumped on by the Russian Bear has whipped the tar out of her. Why were so few of us surprised that the Freedom Flotilla was full of Fidel's culls and outcasts? And we cannot understand why we welcomed Fidel's shipments but clapped our hands over the Statue of Liberty inscription when persecuted Haitians tried to come ashore. This column would unhesitatingly vote the eruption of Mt. St. Helens as the nation's number one story of '80. Murders, riots, and inflatlon we can have anytime, but a real live continental U.S. volcano kicking up a fuss is not your everyday, run-of-the-mill happening. We would almost vote the Saturn fly-by as number two. The election campaigns from local to national levels once again demonstrated the American propensity toward bad taste borne out of desperation and greed. We frankly believe that had the attacks been less personal a number of races would have had very different results. Although many of us experience a vicarious thrill when we hear "naming names" and muck-raking, we can be very uncomfortable watching soiled linens being laundered in public. This column feels that one of the truly big events of the local 1980 campaign was not the sheriff's race, but was the historic first broadcast of the county's final rally and of the on-the-spot election returns. Beginning after Christmas of 1979 and lasting intermittently into 1980, Florida earth tremors made the news but a few times, but to this writer, anytime the earth moves it is of prime importance. We first experienced the local tremors when our kitchen door steadily rattled and ripples formed on our fish pond on a breezeless day. The experts seemed to be at a loss to explain, but to one who became aware of earth tremors while walking to school in Alaska, this writer can flat-out state that the earth shook, ever so gently, but it shook in 1980. Two of the most positive events in this column's way of thinking was the forming of a local Chamber of Commerce and the opening of the first County Fair. Both can do more to re-establish county-community pride and spirit than any other dozen events together. We'd like to forget the big Blizzard of March, '80. The Chrysler bail-out was generous, nice, and set a stupid precedent. "Uncle Sam, my art classes aren't doing very well.... How about a handout?" We never viewed President Kennedy's death as anything but sad and tragic, but we're tired of hearing about it. Let us hope the newsmakers find enough to report on (hopefully good) in '81 that they won't have to resort to this ghoulish business again in our lifetimes. 1980 saw an unprecedented number of redneck gentlemen sporting permanents. First they cussed the Hippies and then borrowed their long hair and beards. Then they cussed the Blacks and borrowed their music. Now they've cussed the swingers and borrowed their hair. Where will all this redneck chic end? We noted the passing of the CB fad in 1980 and wonder why all those folks who "had to have one because of the danger of being stalled on a lonely stretch of road at night" don't figure they'll be in that same adverse situation now. This column believes it knew the reason for the moving forests of tall vehicle-antennas all along; a lot of middle-aged ladies received a thrill hearing dirty-talking truckers pass by. If '81 isn't much better, we think we'll sleep through it. _____________________________________________________________________________ THE BAKER COUNTY PRESS, Thursday, January 15, 1981 Page Two THE WAY IT WAS - Gene Barber Reminiscing with Paul Taylor This columnist has always enjyed talking with people who have been around for a while and who have combined ther longevity with a sense and apprecition of history. Some time ago we spent a pleasant afternoon over a glass of Wilma Morris' lemonade with Paul Taylor (a great-grandson of the pioneer Gordon Stewart Taylor), and we wish to share that experience with our readers. We talked about his famed ancestor Gordon Stewart and this columnist learned, in addition to the already-known fact that the elder Taylor was the major light in bringing Methodism to the north half of the county, that he was a minister in North Carolina long before the Civil War and his marriage. Although the Reverend Taylor was not ordained, he founded the present church at Taylor on his plantation in 1880 or '81. The original building he constructed was purchased, according to Mr. Paul Taylor, by Lacy Combs for about $100. Gordon Stewart's son Thomas P. was a merchant and the father of several children, among whom was William Barney. Barney was the father of our subject Paul. Barney was hired by the Gum Swamp Turpentine Company (the Downing Company) as manager when the company's representatives (from Brunswick) learned he had some education. He replaced a man named Sweat who moved back to Georgia. Barney picked up the weekly payroll in Lake City and took a black man along to ride shotgun on the long horse and buggy trip. Barney moved to Jacksonville after the turpentine began to play out and worked on the street cars for a number of years. He later returned to Baker County and settled in McClenny. After serving as tax collector and as a county commissioner, he relocated in Raiford and died there. Among Paul Taylor's many recollections of the Taylor Community were the Taylor Masonic Lodge being above a store and his joining the Taylor Church in 1924. In 1920, 22 year old Paul Taylor was selected to serve with a Mr. Rowe (he didn't recall the first name during our conversation) and Mrs. Alberta Rye as a census taker. His area was Olustee, Sanderson, and McClenny. Starting on the outer edge of McClenny, he worked through to make a careful count. He recalls there were six or seven stores, and all were kept abreast of the times by the Baker County Standard. Nobody had electricity. Aunt Jane Herndon ran a boarding house by the courthouse (these will be noted in 1981 as the bright yellow house and library, respectively, on South Fifth Street). The Powers Hotel served great meals for .25. And Richard Davis was among the first, if not the first, to have a telephone inside the town of McClenny. Mr. Taylor was also a rural mail carrier in 1920, serving a few months in the then populous Sapp district. He was moved a few miles north to Manning, site of the busy and extensive Goethe Lumber Company. Mr. Sharp was the commissary manager for the Goethe Manning operations. Mr. Sharp will be remembered by many as the long-time owner of the little Pure Oil Station on the northwest corner of McClenny Avenue and Sixth Street. He was recommended to fill the position of Manning postmaster, but when Goethe moved to Glen Saint Mary, Mr. Sharp left with them. His nephew Bill Overstreet took over as postmaster but soon moved to Glen to temporarily fill the same position there for a short while. In a re-shuffling of the rural mail routes in the mid-twenties, some of the Glen patrons were placed under the Sanderson post office service, and Green's Creek was included with the Glen route. Paul Taylor's new route ran from north of Sanderson to Baxter, beginning about 1923 and lasting until 1934. It was while on this route that the young Mr. Taylor felt the call to preach, and he pastored his first church (Cypress Grove) at Possum Trot. He built his first home in McClenny in 1924 (the Dink and Sadie Mae Powers Home on West McClenny Avenue), and he bought his first car ($700.00). Mr. Taylor won over Grady Milton for McClenny's town clerk in 1927. He received $1.00 to $1.50 per meeting for his work. He was already getting a whopping $120.00 per month for his 20 mile mail carrier route. As McClenny's clerk he was asked by the town and county commissions to accompany Johnny Dugger and a Mr. Crampton to Baldwin to strongly urge Florida Power and Light to extend service to McClenny. When the westward reaching lines finally entered McClenny, Paul Taylor's house was among the first to enjoy the benefits of electricity. Paul Taylor has spent much time gathering historical information on his family and several years ago pubilshed a booklet about the Taylor generations of the past. _____________________________________________________________________________ THE BAKER COUNTY PRESS, Thursday, January 22, 1981 Page Two THE WAY IT WAS - Gene Barber The Militia of 1837 Columbia County, of which Baker County was a part until 1858, girded itself in early 1836 for battle with the Seminoles and their allies during the Second Seminole War. Since most of that County's earliest records have been lost, muster rolls of militia men such as this one have to be discovered in the hands of private collectors and descendants of some of the men who foresaw the value of documents of their times. This particular list is owned by Eldridge Collins of Columbia County, and because of the goose quill writing, some of it is open to interpretation. We present the list with our own edition and added notes. William Cason, William Ammons, Charles Branch (lived not far from the northern line between present Baker and Columbia Counties), Fisher Ghaskins (Gaskins; lived for a while in the present Union County area), James Goodbread, Allen Hazell (or Hazen), indecipherable, Cornelius Barber (later moved to Putnam County), Thomas Gaskins, Jacob Holbrook, William Barber (listed on the Saint Mary's River at Trail Ridge. William T. Holbrook (all the Holbrook entries were spelled "Holbrooks"), John Cason, Ransom Cason, R.B. Buffam (?), Jesse A. Thomas, - Joiner, Cader Hancock (lived on the present Baker-Union line near Lulu), Giles W. Ellis (there is a story among his descendants that he fired the first shot of the war in Columbia County), David Gillet, Daniel Cason, John B. Casan, Samuel Joiner, Joseph Joiner, John Moody, E.M. Moody. I.J. (?) Carter, Elisha Carter (lived for a long time in the present Union County before moving to near Long Branch in northwest Clay County), Dennis Cason, Green (?) B. Cason, - Cason, Cader Hancock, Littleton Hancock (lived in the present Union County and then moved into Lake City), John Gaines, Uriah Joiner, James Hancock, John H. Joiner (?), James Munden, Thomas M. Moody, John Matthews. Enock Moody, Henry Moore (also a resident of the present Union County), James Munden, William Munden, Nathaniel Moody, John B. Moody, W.T. Tucker, William A. Tucker, Lewis M. Tucker (all three Tuckers later moved to the Clay-east Bradford section), and Isiah Thomas. Some might wonder why so few Baker County men if we were a part of Columbia at that time. Among several reasons for the lack of east Columbia residents on the roll are (1) there were very few people living there to offer men for the militia and (2) it was more convenient and efficient for most of the men to join militia units in Camden County (present Charlton), Georgia, and the neighboring counties of Duval and Nassau. _____________________________________________________________________________ THE BAKER C0UNTY PRESS, Thursday, January 29, 1981 Page Two THE WAY IT WAS - Gene Barber A Cracker Lexicon Most of us Southerners (both by birth and adoption) have chuckled over the restaurant placemats featuring an illustrated bit of fun titled "How to Talk Southern." And we native-borns have chafed under the agony of hearing a Bronx-reared fill-in for Johnny Carson regale a howling audience with in invidious monologue full of quaint words and pronunciations he picked up and exaggerated during his recent trip south. Worse yet is the torture of hearing Liz Taylor crucifying some writer's idea of a "Southun acceunt." Truth is, there is no Southern accent common to all born below the Mason-Dixon. Maybe we should go a bit further in our qualifications and say that there was no one manner of speaking before the homogenization of all dialects by the destructive power of TV (its commercials teach your kids the heinous pronunciation of "p' nits" instead of "peanuts" while encouraging them to talk sassily with their nasty little unwiped mouths full. In days of yore, Tidewater Virginia folk would be at a loss to understand a visitor from Chattanooga; a North Carolina hillbilly would discover his verbal communications failing when he tried to talk with a 'Geechee people; and all but a few mountaineers might just look at a verbalizing Cracker and say, "Huh?" We won't go into the background of the Cracker speech now since we pretty well exhausted that subject a few years back in a series entitled "The Crackers," but we, as a pubilc service, figured we should do our bit in "learning Yankees how to talk proper 'Merican" by offering a sampler from our Cracker Lexicon. We trust they will find it "ratsmart an' a mawt holpful." For a starter, there is "logging." Now, you might think this has to do with bringing those big firs down from the western mountains, but actually it is a verb meaning to move along smoothly and easliy: "Now you loggin', Man." POND SCOGGIN (pawn' scawgin), n. It Is embarassing how many parents have neglected their children's education by not telling them that what other unbright people call egrets and herons are in reality pond scoggins: "'At air pond scoggin done et muh fish." HANNEL (hen' el), 1. n. a part of a thing which is grasped by the han' in using or moving it: "I gone knock you on your haid one wit a ax hannel." 2. v. to touch or feel with the han': "Down you hannel me, Boy." 3. as a Plural with long, an item of undergarment that comes in mighty handy this winter. HOLE, v. to borrow: "Le' me hole yore pen." HOLT, n. to grasp or cradle in the hand: "I tuk a holt uh duh hannel." HILT, v. "I hilt it til 'e tuk uh holt." (we're certain you're beginning to catch on. Soon you'll be speaking intelligently and enunciating in clarion tones too). KILT, v. to take a life or to conclude: "He kilt the laist uh duh bottle, so I kilt him." PYEAR, n. a walkway over water: "To duh boat t' duh pyear, Uncle Coley." PYEARS, 1. two or more of the above. 2. seemingly, apparent. 3. a nice family living north of Glen. STOB, n. a piece of wood intended to be driven into the ground. v. to pierce with a sharp instrument: "Come one step nyearer an' I'll stob you wf' thisyear pitch fork." NYEARER; adj. moving on in. OUTEN (out' in), v. 1. to extinguish: "Outen 'at air fahr." 2. to exit or to emanate: "He come outen them woods lak a house a' fahr." TOAD STRANGLER, n. a heavy rain. YOUNG NOEY, n. a heavier rain. KYOUNTER (keyown' ter), n. a long high table: "Chunk duh kyorn on duh kyounter." KYORN (keyowrn), n. the widely cultivated cereal plant Zea Mays. SHECKS, n. the husks of kyorn. TAHR, v. to become weary: "Work'll shore tahr me out." HEUNH, adv. to or toward this place: "Heunh, Rattler, heunh, heunh. YANDER, adv. at that site: "Fotch It f'm over yander." FOTCH, v. to retrieve. YELK, n. the yellow of an egg: "Hit 'uz a double yelk aig I jest broke." PYERT, adj. lively in good health "Rat pyert, thank'e an hah you?" Of course, without the grunts and the nasal and umlaut sounds inherited from our Indo-European ancestors and the slurring handed down by our Celtic forebears, there can still be no proper pronunciation of Crackerese. For instance, to correctly say "heunh," you must situate yourself near a long-dead horse and then quickly expel the malodorous air from your nasal passage and mouth at as nearly the same time as possible. Keep practicing, and we shall provide you with a fresh list of choice cracker words in our next effusion. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- THE BAKER COUNTY PRESS, Thursday, February 5, 1981 Page Two THE WAY IT WAS - Gene Barber More of our Cracker lexicon SURP, n. a reddish, dark, clear viscous fluid produced from cooking the juice of sugar cane and is used at every meal on biscuits, fried side meat, grits, and leftover peas. FOUT (rhymes with "out"), v. the past tense of a violent physical encounter between two or more persons: "Them boys fout all over the juke joint." JUKE (jook, rhymes with "took"), 1. n. a place of entertainment and spiritous refreshments but dubious reputation. 2. v. to go in search of a lively good time. SCOOTERPOOP, v. to go in search of an even livelier good time: "Ahtm a' goin scooterpoopin tonight!" MOUT (rhymes with "out"), v. a form of may: "They mout come over, an they mout not." CWILE' v. to wind into rings: "At air spredinatter is a gone cwile up iff'n you keep on a messin witheem." SPREDINATTER (spred' in at r), n. a harmless American snake of the genus Heterodon. AITER, prep. later in time: "Ah'll be thare aiter a whawl." MIDDLIN, n. the fatty sides and belly of a hog: "Ain't nothin seasons limer beans better'n smoke middlin." LAG, n. one of limbs which support and move the body: "Ah got a crank in muh lag." CRANK, n. a muscular spasm. NUZZLE, v. to snuggle or cuddle with amorous intent. NARY (nerry), adv. adj. a word used in a negative sense: "Ain't nary a one of y'all got 'ny sense." "Ah ain't got nary." NUHCE, v. to tenderly care for: "Ah ain't tuck you t' nuhcel!" PINT, v. to indicate, usually with a finger: "Don't pint yore fanger at me." THOE, v. to chunk: "Thoe me duh ball, Leroy" CHUNK, v. a word borrowed from the Creek Indians ball game Chunka and meaning to thoe. GAICE, n. a fuel derived from petroleum: "If the price a' gaice keeps on a'gettin higher, Ah ain't gone be able to keep on a'runnin muh 4X4 up an down Main no eighteen hours a day." ONT. (this one is tricky; although possessed of only one syllable it must be pronounced in two levels, starting lower, ending higher: about 7, in a word that evolved from the contraction I want: "Ont a drank a' warter." AHRN, v. to press clothes with a hot ahrn. n. a metal: "You wouldn't unnerstand nothin if yore haid wuz softened up with a railroad ahrn." GOPHER, n. a terrestial turtle. SALLYMANDER, n. a burrowing rodent. ORTER, n. an aquatic, fur-bearing animal of the genus Lutra. SHET, v. 1. to close. 2. to get rid of: "Ah'm a' gone git shet of you rat quick like." MINNER, n. any small fresh-water fish. LIKE, v. to be deficient or short of: "Ah like two havin enough." An afore our typographer gits t' likin the patience to do 'ny more a' this stuff, we better wrop it up and git shet uv it. And as some of our readers are guffawing over what those ignorant rednecks have done to the English language, we wish to advise them that in reality they have done very little to it. Crackerese is among the least changed American dialects and is quite close to some of the original English language strains brought over three hundred years ago. We could also give our Northern friends and urban neighbors equal time and offer some of their pronunciations such as dag or dwog for dog, schowool for school, and yeunhhh for yes. _____________________________________________________________________________ THE BAKER COUNTY PRESS, Thursday, February 12, 1981 Page Two THE WAY IT WAS-Gene Barber John and Molly A Valentine Story John was born John Calvin Crews. He came into the world, the Georgia Bend to be more exact, in 1880. Molly was Mary Ellen Chesser, born in 1871 in the edge of the Great Okefenokee Swamp. John was big, handsome, and from middle age on possessed of gleaming white hair. Molly was short, lean, big-boned, wrinkled as a prune since thirty, and never had one grey-hair in her 91 years. When they married, folks all over Baker County, the Bend, and west Nassau wondered, "Why did John Crews want that old ugly woman?" But they who questioned never understood things like love, patience, devotion, acceptance, and understanding. "John is my man," said Molly, "and keep yore damned hands off'n'Im." John would sometimes look at his dark little wife who would be making ready for church or trading and comment, "Molly's got that hair screwed up so tight her eyebrows is pulled up to her hairline." Molly worshipped her John and stated, "My John is purty." John would say, "Molly's got to pull them wrinkles apart 'fore she can powder 'em." And they would spend hours together on the front porch over the newspaper and books while John taught his Molly how to read. Little by little he guided her through the fundamentals of writing. All was not always humorous and pleasant. The seemingly mismatched couple had their difficulties, usually over John's drinking and Molly's stubborn streak. John enjoyed his liquor and often pitched a good one in his youth. Molly took to the fields and worked, secure in the knowledge that John would come home. Sometimes Molly would get the mulligrubs and stay on a silence binge for days, but John would go to and from work every day knowing his Molly would have supper waiting for him when he returned. In a few days he would kid her out of her bad mood. Molly never knew how to cook for less than a log rolling. She experimented making pies out of yellow squash and had parched corn and acorns for coffe substitutes when times were hard. She used hog lard in her cakes and asked her company to "have some more of this ol' bread." She raised Poland-China hogs bigger than herself and could wrestle them to the ground if necessary. John was an artisan who could fashion anything out of almost nothing. He created keepsake boxes which were beautiful and elegant in their simpilcity and scant touches of decoration. He made fascinating hooks and pegs from satiny finished tree limbs. His eyes were blue and the expression "twinkle in the eyes" had to be inspired by him. John was reared In Nassau County and near Burton Ford on the Saint Mary's River. He attended Crews School near Bay Branch and received a surprisingly good education for nineteenth century Florida. His letters were painstakingly perfected and his converstions could be most formal. Molly had spent a total of three hours in the Barber Bay School in 1878 (and that begrudgingly). She might have been persuaded, by her Pa to have remained longer but barefoot and natural Molly refused to wear shoes in class. Her teacher, "Ol' Man Stokes," insisted she be shod while in his school or punished. "You try it, you ol' son (etc.)," she hollered. When Prfessor Stokes grabbed her arm for her switching, Molly soundly slapped him and ran out the door for home. Molly cleared thme walk-plank over the ever-standing pool of water at the front door and when Professor Stokes hit the plank, she flipped him into the mud. Professor Stokes insisted that Mr. Chesser whip Molly, and Mr. Chesser agreed that her sass and the dunking called for punishment. "But," he advised the teacher, "I can't believe the wearing of shoes has that much to do with how well the head learns. Molly was wrong in what she did to you, and you were wrong in wanting to whip her about not wearing shoes. I figure It's even." "Pa never made me go to school again, and he let me go to the fields and do the plowing," Molly remembered almost three quarters of a century later. "And I didn't wear shoes again till I wanted to. And when I set my cap fer John Crews, I wanted to." When John and Molly's first child was born, they were living at Mattox Crossing between McClenny and Baldwin. It was a violent little community full of rough customers, and few were surprised when one of the Mattox boys shot and killed one of the Barber boys. Molly, abed convalescing from the birth of her baby, turned her gaze out the window in time to be a witness to the shooting. The Fernandina-held trial necessitated a near sixty mile trip for Molly and her infant in a bed prepared for them by John in a wagon. There were no accommodations aboard the train for a bedridden new mother and infant. Molly gave her witness in the Nassau County courthouse and returned home. The baby died soon after. John and Molly laid the child's body to rest in Manntown Cemetery and soon were blessed with Jesse. This new child was the light of their life. One day Jesse was killed, believed to have been murdered and his body tossed onto a railroad to be crushed by a locomotive. Molly picked up her son's brains and placed them in his lunch pail. She covered them with Jesse's straw work hat, took John's hand, and they went home. Molly and her John were made of sturdy stuff, and they continued...alone together...and in love. _____________________________________________________________________________ THE BAKER COUNTY PRESS, Thursday, February 19, 1981 Page Two THE WAY IT WAS - Gene Barber When bombs rained on Baker County Your writer is an inveterate walker. He walked as a child because there was usually no other way to go. He walked in his youth for entertainment. Now he walks just to keep the old blood pumping. He believes walking cures or prevents just about anything (severed limbs, acute appendicitis, and bubonic plague are among the major problems excepted). But we digress. Several mornings ago, faithful hound at leash, your writer struck out across the woods south of the old Atlantic Coast Line for his daily walk (actually, the faithful hound, as a rule, drags your writer through the briars and wiregrass rather than being led, but we digress again). We spied a surprising clearing within a swampy area ringed with bare grey trees and spangled with white pond birds. Always on the lookout for unusual topographic features in our area, we investigated. At roughly the four points of the compass, drainage ditches ran outward from the heavily wooded site. Inside the perimeter of briars and cypresses we discovered a circular grassy area spotted with a few myrtles and willows. Although evidently eroded, the spot was recognized as being arranged in concentric circles. Cropping out from the carpet grass were patches of oyster shell. The romantic imagination of your writer wanted to shout, Ancient Timucuan sacrificial grounds," and all the while the realistic side of the brain said, "Sawmill site." The difficult and lengthy transportation of oyster shell pretty well precluded both, and the swampiness certainly eliminated a sawmill site. After much pondering on the subject we did what we should have done in the first place. The writer's father answered, "The old naval bombing range target." Of course, your writer should have concluded that from the evidence he had been walking over for the past several months. Memories began to edge in, the flood, of the family skirting the fenced area while on a cattle drive from Fiftone toward home. Memories of diving planes, loud pops, puffs of white smoke, and little thought of the danger we had placed ourselves or stock in (even without exploding, those little iron bombs falling from such a height could have made nasty holes in a hapless horse and rider). There were recollections of privies and stray cows being bombed miles from the target. We recalled gray rescue team vehicles stopping at our house asking if we had seen a plane go down and, "which way is Maxville?" We remembered our morbid curiosity taking us to huge craters in the woods and searching among twisted scraps of metal and Mother shaking her head and saying, "Them pore boys. Some Mother is grieving somewhere." There were intricate little gadgets made of wondrously light metal that were later turned into robots and space probing rockets by your writer. There were soft helmets which were quickly dropped when someone mentioned that an ear had been found in such things out here. Also remembered was the airport a few miles away south of McClenny on the Raiford Road. In those days we didn't worry about poor TV reception from the planes because (1) we hoped that the noise was somehow keeping "them people from over yonder away from our shores," and (2) there wasn't any TV (can you possibly imagine a world being deprived of Mork and Mindy and Three's Company?) Thirty-six years later your writer could not bring himself to stand in the middle of the target. Sitting on its edge he began to muse, and he decided that there wasn't very much difference in a sacrificial site and a bombing target. Both were methodical, planned, condoned by their societies, and helped to satisfy mankind's inherent thirst for blood. Man has always killed and made excuses for it. He has labeled his wars "holy," said his blood sacrifices were to appease a supreme being, and he currently claims thrill murderers are only giving vent to the anger and frustrations born of the deprivations of their youth and backgrounds. During our reflections another type of killing came to mind - the death penalty. Very much in the news today, it has its vociferous proponents declaring that its reinstitution would be a major deterrent to murder. More vocal are its opponents who claim research proves that it cannot make a bit of difference. Your writer has mixed emotions on the subject and has no magical way of knowing the efficacy of the death penalty in preventing murder among the widespread pubilc, but he does know it is a definite deterrent on two people - the fellow in the chair and your writer. Such are the strange thoughts of one sitting on a target for dive bombers. And, by the way, you really ought to try walking. _____________________________________________________________________________ THE BAKER COUNTY PRESS, Thursday, February 28,1981 Page Two THE WAY IT WAS - Gene Barber Names and views from behind those framed photographs Part One For as long as your writer can remember, there was a framed photographic family tree hanging in the master bedroom of the old family house. When he came into possession of the Victorian heirloom he was sorely tempted to take it apart and peruse the newspapers he knew from many years of taking old photographs from their frames must be there. But the old piece was held in high esteem and even a bit of reverence by the family and your columnist, and therefore the deed was not done. A little over two years ago the family tree was ignominiously shattered by a group of vandalising punk kids and we had our opportunity to see what lay behind. Besides a sheet of tissue paper there were three newspapers - The Soldier, printed in Columbia, South Carolina, on the 15th of January, 1893, and "...issued in the interest of the Christian Sabbath, and of Temperance and other Reforms"; a Jacksonville Times-Union of 29 June, 1937; and a Macclenny Sentinel from the 11th of July, 1894. The gist of The Soldier was that there would be much fewer drunkards if there were fewer "wicked" people selling the poisonous brews, wines, and spirits and that the majority of those who made and sold the stuff were foreigners. The Soldier claimed that alcoholic manufacturing and consumption were definitely not American institutions. The T-U carried a couple of big stories on the Spanish Civil War and reported expressed fears of Soviet intervention. Union leaders were claiming a back-to-work movement was a mere "dummy" show. A union organizer's car had been bombed. A pilot named Amelia Earhart was beginning the last lap of her journey across the "hazardous" Pacific ("I'll be in the United States in four days," she grinned as she climbed into her plane.) There was trouble in the postal system - unwarranted hikes in the rates and an impending Congressional hearing. Gold was in the news with some folks figuring it was going to take an unprecedented rise in value (does some of this seem familiar?) Hitler was applauding Germany's demands for new colonies, and a few right-wingers were warning that we will have to go to war against that fellow one day. Three kidnapped girls were found slain in New Jersey and an ex-convict was being held (not surprisingly, his lawyer said he was planning a temporary insanity defense). Pepsodent's ad for more sparkling teeth wasn't much less hoopla-ish than some of today's claims that their toothpaste will cure all our social and sexual problems. In 1937 one could conveniently telephone for a cool wave by ordering a General Electric fan (they began at $3.95), and McClenny's GE representative was Y.H. Yarborough. Morrison's Cafeteria offered one egg, two strips of bacon, grits, and ham gravy for 7 cents. For dinner and supper fried chicken with rice and gravy would cost you only 19 cents, and blackberry cobbler with whipped cream was 5 cents. Levy's had swim trunks from $1.65 to $5.00. And a round-trip to Los Angeles from Jacksonville on the L & N RR was $72.00. The Macclenny Sentinel was owned and edited by James B. Mathews. As were most of the small sheets of its day it was printed on a standard preprinted format which contained more advertisements, political editorials, and literary columns than news of any kind or locality. One could buy 12 issues of the Sentinel for what one Baker County Press costs today. Mr. Matthews said his paper was not only the only paper in the county but was the official paper of the county. Mr. Matthews was a Populist, as was the majority of Baker County's citizens of northern birth. The Populist Congressional Convention, which would be held in Ocala and to which Baker County was entitled to four delegates, received about four inches of reporting, but the Democratic Convention, to which Baker was entitled to two delegates, received three lines. J.E. Cole of Glen Saint Mary (he and wife owned a hotel there) was chairman of the state committee. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- THE BAKER COUNTY PRESS, Thursday, March 5, 1981 Page Two THE WAY IT WAS - Gene Barber Names and views from behind those framed photographs Part Two As were most of the other small newspapers of the day, the 1894 Macclenny Sentinel was mainly an advertiser rather than a disseminator of news. Even some of the news items were ad oriented, and Editor Matthews was not above slipping in a bit of his political philosophy between the social and personal notes. "The next meeting of the Industrial Legion at the Glen will be held Saturday, July 14, commencing at 7 p.m." and "The People's Party executive committee is called to meet at the courthouse....An invitation is extended to all to meet and make suggestions, for when we say people we mean everybody," were two announcements of interest. "Mrs. Grace Falana (nee Andress) came Monday from Jacksonville to visit her sisters, Mrs. Linscott and Mrs. Tracy. "J.R. Herndon, C.C. Corbett, and Fred Johnson went Friday with the sheriff to the Durance place to set aside the widow's dower as petitioned and granted by the probate court. "Trees in every direction show the lightning's ravages. "A bold attempt at robbery was attempted a few days ago in the country. A trunk was taken from the house into the field and rifled, but no money was found. "This month closes a half century of the editor's connection with the printing business, nearly half of which time we have carefully watched and done our best to oppose the poverty grind has gone under the various names of resumption, restoring confidence, etc., but all with one aim, making labor poorer and those lazy, unproductive drones, those leeches, the bondholders, richer. Isn't it time that equal justice to all should give us a fairer legislation? Republican legislation was bad enough, but in one year's time a democratic government has out-Heroded Herod. "Services at the M.E. church on the second and fourth Sundays of each month, Rev. J.G. Kennelly, pastor. "We have rains now almost daily. "Mrs. Elizabeth Duncan, so well known to our citizens from her long residence here, died at her home in South Jacksonville on the morning of July 4. She had been a constant sufferer for over a year, and bore her afflictions with Christian meekness and patience. Her charity and benevolence were her prominent characteristics. "Olustee Lodge, No. 104, F.A.M. meets the first Saturday night of each month. Visitors are always welcomed." McElree's Wine of Cardui and Thedford's Black-Draught were for sale at the following Baker County merchants: Z.L. Hubbard, McClenny; Eppinger and Russell, Olustee; T.N. Milton, Olustee; J.C. Norwood and Co., Olustee; F.J. Pons, Sanderson. "E.E. Pons Attorney at Law, office in city hall, Macclenny, Fla., will attend to all business intrusted to him in Baker County and throughout the state." Notice was given that Lewis A., Charles J., and William C. Davis had brought suit against Issac Eppinger and John K. Russell and a former partner, of theirs Louis Adler (Eppinger and Adler were residents of New York). F.P. Fleming of Clay County was solicitor for the Complainants, and R.M. Call was Circuit Court Judge. Sheriff Charles F. Pons advertised a Sheriff's sale of land (except Rowe's and Tanner's) in which the plaintiff was R.H. Snyder and the defendant was the Baker County Banking and Refrigerator Company. Mr. Z. L. Hubbard passed away, and his wife Mrs. M.C. Hubbard announced that she will continue the ten year old business at Olustee. A notice to debtors and creditors was given William H. Durance, administrator of the estate of the late William H. Durance. Mrs. Martha C. Clay, nee Vaughn, administratrix of the estate of the late Captain Roger K. Vaughn, late of Glen St. Mary, gave notice that she will apply to county judge Mott Howard for discharge of her duties. Some of the advertising for cures for men's and women's intimate problems reminded us of the current TV commercials which have received so much flak. There were ads for cures for the drug habit. And there were ads for drugs. Get rich quick schemes, education at home, and all other other enticements we are so accustomed to today were right there in the July 11, 1894, Macclenny Sentinel. _____________________________________________________________________________ THE BAKER COUNTY PRESS, Thursday, March 12, 1981 Page Two THE WAY IT WAS - Gene Barber Catholicism in Baker Country No evidence of early mission here It is generally accepted here in Baker County that the Catholic Church began to share the history of the county when ground was broken for Saint Mary's Church only a generation ago. This column does not argue with that belief, because as a viable being within the borders of our county no earlier mission representing the venerable Mother Church is known here. From our search for a legendary early area mission, which we did not find, we gathered enough material to adduce that, while no Mass was probably celebrated in the county earlier than the establishment of Saint Mary's, the county was not totally void and destitute of some link with Florida's pioneer religion. Hazarding a hint of dignity to an old tale this writer believes in without foundation, he will devote a few paragraphs to the shadowy Catholic mission "along the Big River or near Macedoney" as mentioned by certain long-past Baker Countians. First of all, the Church at Rome has not successfully existed for almost two millennia and expanded to universal dimensions by being a sloppy records keeper, and her records do not provide us with an historicity of such a mission. In 1674 Bishop Calderon of Santiago Cuba (Florida was within that jurisdiction) was compelled to vist Florida to, among other matters, investigate a growing dispute between the missionizing Franciscan priests and the secular or parish priests (and you thought only we Baptists squabbled). In a later letter to Queen Mariana of Spain, Bishop Calderon gave, in addition to a remarkable description of the people and geography of the extreme southeastern continental United States, a list of all the missions therein. The descriptions of their locations and the distance scale between them cannot, by any stretch of the imagination, fit the Baker County area. However, some missions were not so far away that they could not have exerted influence over the native population of Baker County. They were San Diego de Salamototo near present-day Tocoi on the Saint John's River, Santa Fe de Toloca and San Francisco de Potano near the present Gainesville, Santa Catalina in Columbia County, Santa Cruz de Ajohica near the fork of the Santa Fe and Suwannee Rivers, San Juan del Puerto on Fort George Island on the Saint John's, and Santa Maria on the island now named Amelia. Most of these Franciscan missions were within a day's trotting journey for the aboriginal Baker Countians if they wished to embrace the faith and to travel to them for confessions and mass. It is likely that the Baker County ancient people were culturally kin to those interior inhabitants described by Bihsop Calderon as, "the Chichimecos, heathen, so savage and cruel that their only concern is to assault villages, Christian and heathen, taking lives and sparing neither sex, age, nor state of life, roasting and eating the victims.." In fact, the slight knowledge gained from second-hand reports and sifting through the meager remains of their mounds seem to indicate a less sedentary and agricultural life and less dependence on the Christianized mission society by the Baker County Amerindians. Whether or not the Church influenced them is probably an unanswerable question. Most, or all, of the missions were ruthlessly destroyed by a coalition of Englishmen and Yamasee Indians under James Moore of South Carolina at the beginning of the eighteenth century. In the midst of all the black legends surrounding the atrocities committed by early Spanish Catholics against the aboriginal Floridians and the French Protestant settlers, historians neglect to mention that in the space of six years, the Episcopalian Englishmen killed, enslaved, tortured, and mutilated more women, children, aged, and men of God than the Catholic Spaniards had in the previous two hundred years. Governor, then Colonel, James Moore holds the dubious honor of destroying the original Florida inhabitants, including those of the present Baker County. The Spaniards cannot be held entirely blameless, for it was undoubtedly due to their emasculation of the Timaqua culture with a religion of peace and then settling them into a soft agrarian life that their continued existence became tenuous in a harsh age. Another reason for disbelief in the legend of an early Saint Mary's mission is that the ancestors of those Crackers who repeated the story to your writer were separated from the time of the legend by a few to several hundred miles. In those days, as regards the Cracker capabilities and modes of travel, the distance might as well have been the same as the either of the poles. That the old timers who told the story were separated from the incident by almost three centuries (and remembering that many could not even remember their grandparents' names) pretty well concludes that the legend of a Baker County Catholic mission from the first Spanish Period is just that - a legend. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- THE BAKER COUNTY PRESS, Thursday, March 19, 1981 Page Two THE WAY IT WAS - Gene Barber Catholicism in Baker County Part Two Not finding any evidences of Catholicism in the Baker County area during the first Spanish colonial period, we, now fascinated with the possibilities, decided to continue searching anyhow. Going much further back in florida's history when Ponce de Leon made landfall in the vicinity of Ponte Vedra Beach during Easter week of 1513, Catholicism was within an Indian's day trotting distance of our county. But no Indian could have brought a story of the mass to the aborigines of this section because there was no priest on Ponce's first Florida visit. He was here on discovery and political and wealth-seeking business, and religion would have to come later. It has been suggested that Conquistador Panfilo de Narvaez might have visited the edge of the Okefenokee Swamp soon after Easter, 1528. Priests accompanied his expedition, but whether they said mass in or near Baker County is a moot question. Hernando de Soto explored Florida and the southeastern United States, beginning in 1539. He passed very near, it is believed, the southwestern corner of Baker County in the late summer of the same year. If historians' reconstruction of his and the priests' trip is correct, the Indians at Lulu were the first and nearest to have the opportunity to witness the rites of the Church in this neighborhood. Some historians have placed de Soto attempting to cross the Okefenokee Swamp. Others have maintained that the great swamp in the chronicles of de Soto's travels was not the Okefenokee but one of the extensive river swamps of the south. A Spanish map of 1542 indicated the Okefenokee rather plainly on the Florida-peninsula's upper edge. Although the swamp's presence might have been gleaned from local Indian tales, the Catholic Spaniards were still mighty close to this area to have learned of it and we can be certain that the Baker County area was touched or known by the Spanish sometime prior to 1542. Catholicism was very near or in Baker County no less than 439 years ago. As mentioned in last week's column, no evidences of a Spanish mission can be found from the first colonial period. The same is true for the British interlude from 1763 to 1783. And we know it still held true for the second Spanish period of 1783 to 1821. But Baker Gounty did have its near misses and fleeting associations with Catholicism in the early and mid 1800's. Many of the colonists introduced during the time when Florida was owned by Great Britain were Mediterranean Catholics, mostly from the island of Minorca off the coast of Spain. Some of these colonists were (quite coincidentally we might add) members of the house of Florida's first known European explorer, Juan Ponce de Leon, and ancestors of some of Baker County's most noteworthy citizens of the nineteenth century. But for the time being they were mostly confined to the coasts and would not influence this county until the early 1800's. In the 1790's, King Carlos ruled that the Church should make an attempt to reach the hundreds of Anglo-Americans settlers who were residing in north Florida. Governor Zespedes and Father Michael O'Reilly made a lengthy tour of northeast Florida to determine how many English-speaking Irish priests would be needed to missionize the Higganbothams, Crewses, Gaineys, Greens, Hicks, etc. living in the present Nassau and Duval Counties. They visited along the Saint Mary's River as far south as Brandy Branch, and discovered that the Cracker residents of Spanish Florida were not only receptive of them but many had expressed a desire for their children to receive religious instruction whenever the priests arrived. Four missionaries were sent to West Florida, but none made it to East Florida. As Father Michael V. Gannon, noted Florida historian, put it: "It was another case of lost opportunity resulting from the complicated machinery of the patronato real." The patronato real meant simply that Florida and the Church were directly under the Spanish King, and Spanish Kings and their courts were notorious procrastinators. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- THE BAKER COUNTY PRESS, Thursday, March 26, 1981 Page Two THE WAY IT WAS - Gene Barber Catholicism in Baker County Conclusion It is an amusing diversion to wonder what would have happended if..." in history. Had Florida remained under the crown of Spain for a couple more generations and had the crown sent the planned English-speaking priests as mentioned in last week's column, Maryland might not have been the only Catholic state or territory in the young union. In history a miss is as good as a mile, and the Anglo-American pioneers in northeast Florida remained either mostly unchurched or rudimentary Baptists. But northeast Florida was not exclusively the home of Anglo-Americans; pioneers of Meditertanean blood were moving in from the coast, and most brought at least vestiges of the Mother Church with them. From Fernandina-Old Town came the Ponce family (both the English habit of slurring and frontier illiteracy brought about the present form "Pons"). They settled for a while in west Nassau County, crossed over into the Georgia Bend, and, in the 1840's and '50's, lived in the Providence Village (Union County) section. When Francisco Juan (Francis John) Pons' wife died, he remarried a Baptist, and his Catholicism lay in a somewhat arrested state. After the War Between the States, the new county of Baker promised to be a site of new beginnings for many. The Pons family sought its fortune there and lived in the Cedar Creek and Oak Grove areas. They were not known to have practiced the Roman rites while living in the county, but one of their number - Francis - is said to have resumed his ties with the Catholic Church after he moved to Tallahassee to become Treasurer of the State of Florida. Both Francis (Baker County Clerk of Court) and his brother Charly (sheriff) left many a namesake in Baker County. It has been suggested by several old-timers that many of the Cracker ladies named their children Frank Ponce and Charly Ponce for more reasons than the appeal of the Pons boys' names. The Canovas came from Saint Augustine to Jacksonville and Bradford County, and one branch of the family moved to Sanderson about the time of the Civil War. This clan descended from Italians from the wild Apennines and were fiercely independent. The Church seems to have never had a strong hold on most of them. A few of the old-time Canovas remained Catholic, but most were Baptists or unchurched and did not re-embrace Catholicism. The Alvarez and Andreu families of New River retained some Catholicism, but their marriages with non-Catholics and the great distances from churches and missions diluted their fervor in the mid-1800's. Many worked and lived in Baker County and eventually became Baptists in the late 1800's. Several, although two or three generations removed from the Church, returned to the Catholic faith in the twentieth century. Why the Primitive Baptist Religion was first choice in the absence of a Catholic Church is a moot question. There were Episcopal and Methodist Churches throughout Baker County and contiguous counties. The writer's g-g-g-grandmother Marie Leah Barber was a member of the Alvarez clan of Saint Augustine and, although a Baptist, was descended from Catholic forebears and was open to influence from her Catholic parents-in-law Mr. and Mrs. William Barber. William and his wife lived on Trall Ridge just inside the present Baker County and as former Spanish subjects had become Catholics in the latter years of the 1700's. They were visited by Father Thomas Hassett during his work among the northeast Florida inhabitants in 1790. The first known Catholic Bishop of Baker County was Bishop Michael Portier, who with a young Scotch Presbyterian traveling companion traversed this area in the summer of 1827. The next bishop to have any known association with the county was referred to by the late John Barber of Palatka as..."old Bishop Veero stopped by to see Grandmother in Macclenny during the War. "Of course there was no McClenny during the Civil War, but there was indeed a Bishop Verot - Bishop Jean Pierre Augustin Marcellin Verot, a native of France. Known as the "Rebel Bishop" because of his strong pro-Confederate sermons and tracts, he disliked Yankee Abolitionists and never hesitated to preach against them. He did not disapprove of slavery but did disapprove of ill teatment of slaves. During the Federal occupation of Saint Augustine he fled with the Sisters of Mercy for the comparative safety of Savannah. His journey was circuitous, and it is known that he passed through Baker County. Perhaps it was at this time that he stopped over for his reputed visit. The original title for this little series was "Catholicism In, Near, and Through Baker County," and that is just about what the early days of the Church's relationship was with the county. It remained for the second half of this century for Catholicism to gain a secure and lasting foothold in Baker County with the establishment of Saint Mary's Mission west of McClenny. _____________________________________________________________________________ THE BAKER COUNTY PRESS, Thursday, April 2, 1981 Page Two THE WAY IT WAS - Gene Barber Children of the Confederacy The War between the States ceased 116 years ago. All the veterans of that conflict have died. Most of the wounds on the land have been erased by the elements. That war altered the course of the individual and collective states, secured freedom for an entire race, restricted the progress of the southern tier of states for a century, save an enormous permanent advantage to the northern states, and created prejudices (and emphasized existing ones) from and toward both belligerents that continues even today. Many had no idea why they were fighting, but an intense loyalty to their section of the country brought volunteers out in droves, South and North; Others fought for ideals, and some of those crossed sectional limits to do so. When the last of them died, an era was gone. Our one tie with those men of our dramatic, tragic, and romantic past is their few remaining children. For that reason we can properly regard those people as National Treasures. Baker County is the native home of two and the adopted home of another - Mrs. Mary Raulerson Starling, Mr. John Theron Groves, and Mr. John J. DuFour, respectively. Mrs. Starling is the daughter of Private Joe Raulerson, CSA; Mr. Groves is the son of Private John Groves, CSA; and Mr. DuFour is the son of Private Louis DuFour, CSA. All three Confederates were natives of Georgia. The first two became farming citizens of Baker County, and the last spent many years in this county as a lumberman. All three Confederates participated in the Battle of Olustee. Mrs. Starling is one of those sincerely sweet and low profile ladies of whom the South has always been so proud and for whom the South has always been most grateful. She is a member of a family that has contributed heavily to Baker County and one for which this writer has always held a special affinity (one of his favorite Baker County personalities was her brother, Mr. Hance "Hayball" Raulerson, who was so long associated with this writer's family). Mrs. Starling is the mother and grandmother of many Baker Countians who have been successful in business, and she is the grandmother of the county's present Superintendent of Public Instruction, Tim Starling. Mr. Groves has been known to this writer about as long as anybody and is well known for his wit and pleasant manner. Your writer had the privilege to attend school with Mr. Groves' three sons, and he knows that the intelligence, demeanor, and gentlemanly qualities of those three men speak well for the influence of John Theron Groves. More men like Mr. Groves and his wife (who is, by-the-way, a daughter of the aforementioned Mrs. Starling) would prevent much of the tragedies and heart-breaks so prevalent in modern society. Mr. John J. DuFour has been known by this writer for the past several years and has been most helpful in reconstructing much of the history of this county. Mr. DuFour's knowledge of the Civil War's Florida Campaign came from reading his father's journal and actually hearing the Olustee participant's own words. Mr. DuFour has added to that knowledge by studies in and from the national archives. Mr. DuFour is one of the last of those cultured gentlemen of the Old South. The Baker County Historical Society recently extended honorary life memberships to Mrs. Starling, Mr. Groves, and Mr. DuFour. Your writer is privileged to have made the nominations and is pleased that the entire active membership concurred that they be so honored. Baker County, you possess a unique treasure in these people. This column desires information on any children of Confederate Veterans and on children of former slaves for possible nominations as honorary life members in the Society. TOTALLY UNRELATED ITEM Your writer would be pleased to have his readers view an exhibition of his paintings of Baker County at the Beaches Arts and Crafts Gallery at 319 North First Street, Jacksonville Beach, until April 15 and join him at a reception at the Gallery on this Saturday and Sunday from 2 until 4. Any unfortunates and grouches who have yet to experience the joys of reading our weekly effusions are invited too. _____________________________________________________________________________ THE BAKER COUNTY PRESS, Thursday, April 9,1981 THE WAY IT WAS-Gene Barber The Glen Centennial - Part one In 1881, halfway between Jacksonville and Lake City, George L. Taber detrained at a tiny crossroads settlement. The climate was salubrious and the soil fertile. The land, lying almost untilled since 1864, had been transformed by nature to hardwood hammocks lending it a semi-tropical aspect. Dotting the area were small farms belonging to native Crackers and to transplanted Northerners. Most of the residents were cautious and courteous. They showed young Mr. Taber the countryside, and he became enamored of the gentle hills and sepia-toned Saint Mary's River. Mr. Taber chose the sylvan spot for his new home and suggested for it the euphonious name "Glen St. Mary." He and the other Northern folk laid plans for their new community, and, although it failed as a winter resort when south Florida became available, it was successful for many years as a renewed beginnings haven for several families from the upper midwest and border states. Glen St. Mary survived and, this year, celebrates its centennial. It would be a mistake to equate Glen's formal beginnings with its age as a settled community. The high clay hills east of town were the home of prehistoric peoples, and the later Anglo-American farmers' cultivation of those hills turned up much evidence in points and pottery pieces of a lengthy and heavy habitation. Those early people the Timucua were probably gone from the area by the early 1700's. They gravitated toward Saint Augustine and the missions south and west of Glen in order to place themselves under the protection of the Spanish. By the beginning of the nineteenth century they had been completely replaced by the Georgia and Alabama Creeks who had helped the English extirpate them. Added to that new population were Seminoles who drifted up from the Alachua prairies. With the end of the Second Spanish Period a different settler moved in. Relentlessly, this new pioneer slowly, but ever so surely, eased in and crowded the Indians out. The new pioneer was of British Isles stock, toughened by a few generations of frontier living in America and by countless generations of almost animalism in the wilds of northern Europe and Britain. He would not be stopped until he had touched his plow to every available acre of land. Among the first of these hardy pioneers was Daniel John Mann and his wife LeVicy (an old form of "Louisa"). They arrived in 1829 and set up housekeeping among hostile Indians on the South Prong of the Saint Mary's River near the old Jacksonville- Alligator Road (parts of that route remain as parts of Woodlawn Cemetery Road and the Glen Nurseries' Lover's Lane and Smokey Road). In that same year and on the same River, but on the Jacksonville-Tallahassee Road (this ran far north of the present Glen), another pioneer by the name of John Barber settled. He would be dead before the end of the year in a pre-dawn Indian attack. By 1830 a few more Americans had moved in, and we shall begin to list them next week with a continuing history of "the Glen", as some of the old-timers used to call it. However, we shall end this first installment with an appeal to the city fathers of Glen Saint Mary to feel out their constituents' attitudes about a centennial commemoration. This column well knows that celebrations and memorials are not directly and completely necessary to the physical needs and existence of a community; but we maintain that there is not a county-community within the confines of the United States that is in more dire need of spirit-raising than ours. A fun and reflective shin-dig would come in mighty handy at this time {and would be worth the expense. Why not use Glen's birthday as our worthy excuse to do so? _____________________________________________________________________________ THE BAKER COUNTY PRESS, Thursday, April 16, 1981 THE WAY IT WAS-Gene Barber The Glen Centennial Part two We do not know who was the first American to settle the Glen Saint Mary site, but we do know that Daniel Mann was there in late 1829. Family tradition claims there were no previous residents near his new home. Until some creditable evidence of an earlier inhabitant is uncovered, the Manns can be considered the first permanent settlers of Glen. The widow of the area's other earliest pioneer, Mrs. John Barber (her name is believed to be either Ellinor or Maragareth), moved east across the South Prong immediately after her husband met his death from an Indian's gunshot. Closely following the Mann's arrival were others, mostly transitory. Among the more permanent were Mrs. Mary Norton, John Fry, Daniel Norton, Thomas Goolsby, Asa Wilkerson (Wilkinson), John Osteen, and Joseph Locklear. The 1830 census schedule for the present Glen Saint Mary section is missing, and we have only these names handed down by tradition. Mr. Fry was gone before the 1840 census was taken; the Nortons (their relationship, if any, is unknown to this writer) had removed to Macedonia and environs; Mr. Locklear supposedly settled near Jacksonville (one old head told this writer that Mr. Locklear was a free black, but Locklear's ease in moving about and owning property seems to discount the claim); John Osteen moved away and back several times; Asa Wilkerson drifted into the Clay Hill section of Clay County; and Mr. Goolsby finally settled at the present Cedar Creek Cemetery neighborhood and set up a slave-powered sawmill.. By 1850 the Cotton Field, as our subject area was becoming known, was, in addition to being the nut orchard and cotton field of across-the-river resident Mose Barber, a temporary home for several new citizens (not all were new in the county; many were old-line pioneers). They were Leroy Thrift, Hampton Kersey, David Raulerson, James Daugharty,. Leonard Osteen, Benjamin Osteen, Manning Griffis, Job Manning, and Joseph M. Hale. Most had moved away before the outbreak of the Civil War to the present Union County and to the Georgia Bend. Dan and Levicy Mann remained throughout the changes of population. When the county was established in 1861 the Cotton Field had another name, but it has been lost from the mind of this writer. He does remember the old-timers calling it " - Corners" (can anybody help with the old name?). The Cotton Field also was becoming more populated. Lewis Berry, Calvin Osteen, Judge R. Hodges, William Alexander, Joseph Kelly, Elisha Hunter, Richard Harvey, John Rhoden, Francis Pons, and E.M. Anderson were known to be residents at that time. After the Civil War there was a great shifting of the population, and the Glen area was losing many of the Crackers to the sawmills at Sanderson, Olustee, Darbyville, and in other counties along the railroad. Some moved south to the more fertile prairies north of the Okeechobee to raise their cattle or to the balmy stretches along the Saint Johns River to grow oranges. The fields were largely abandoned and waited to be picked up for taxes by a slow but sure influx of Northerners and displaced Southerners from the Old Dominion and the Carolinas. _____________________________________________________________________________ THE BAKER COUNTY PRESS, Thursday, April 23, 1981 THE WAY IT WAS Gene Barber The rape of the Osceola Forest The timeliness and emergency nature of this week's subject prompts this column to break sequence in the Glen Saint Mary series. if you are sympathetic with the views expressed, immediately write Senator Paula Hawkins to strongly urge her to support a bill introduced by Senator Chiles and Congressman Fuqua to prohibit strip mining in the Osceola Forest. When the Osceola National Forest was established in the thirties, some of the old time Crackers viewed it as their economic salvation. Many willingly sold land to the Federal Government to ward off the wolves of the Great Depression. Although Baker Countians were not faring as poorly as those in other parts of the nation, they were caught up in the hysteria of the times, and, from Lightered Bridge to Ocean Pond, they moved away from land held by their families for a century. Others say another type of boon in the Osceola Forest - a perpetual reservation of wild lands to feed the soul, a refuge for animal and plant life necessary to the environmental well being of mankind and those beings over which he had been given dominion, a stabilizing influence on the state's water supply, a continuing renewable resource of wood and naval stores, and a Nimrod's paradise. It was an area of historical significance. One of the heaviest concentrations of prehistoric peoples in interior northeast Florida had been along the Middle Prong. Some of the county's earliest Anglo-American settlements lay within the Forest. It was the home of Confederate guerrilla leader George Combs and of Indian War veteran Jocham Williams. General, later President, Zachary Taylor had ridden between Big and Little Gum Swamps. Florida's first CCC camp was established within its borders, and the site of Florida's only major battle of the War Between the States was adjacent to it. Some believe the great Florida patriot Osceola lived there as a child. The Forest was among the last homes of the probably now extinct Ivory Bill Woodpecker. Some of Florida's last sleek, beautiful, and beleagured panthers roamed its swamps until recently. North Florida's last red wolves barked and howled there until around 1912. The Forest is home to Epidendrum conopsium, the continent's northernmost epiphytic orchid, and a lovely pink and mahogany Isotrla species (neither getting any more plentiful with mankind's incessant urban encroachment). When farming was gone, open range cattle raising moved in. After naval stores products were replaced by synthetics, pulpwooding filled the void. And although clear-cutting is ugly, the young pine woods always return to answer the demand for paper, and a steady income has been realized from the Forest. Osceola has been discovered in our recent history by our urban neighbors who need the quiet therapy of its sylvan retreats. Sportsmen and campers might not always endear themselves to our hearts due to their sometimes careless manner of treatment to old Osceola, but we have learned to enjoy the company of their dollars. Now, some businessmen have come into our midst and talked of their rights to strip away "only eighteen percent" of this heritage, refuge, and perpetual income. They spoke of feeding the hungry, controlling the world's food supply, riches to Baker County, God, Arabs, and leaving the raped land better than it was before...all laudable or interesting topics. But we say this to you, Baker County: eighteen percent is too much (one teaspoonful is too much); in spite of the propaganda to the contrary, the U.S. isn't hungry yet, and we can leave that phosphate in the ground until we truly need it (any earlier digging sounds like old fashioned greed); denuded and leached sand left after the mining brings in nothing and supports nothing (go view the wastes of Polk, Hamilton, and Bradford Counties and behind Jacksonville's Regency Square); and as for re-claiming the land, just review the last parenthetical suggestion. This writer has seen an eagle painstakingly build her nest (the only one this writer has seen in Baker County), and he later saw her soar and scream over the chopped down nest tree and missing eaglets, the victims of economic advantages (read "greed"). This writer knows of one stand of rare orchids mashed into the mud under wheels and blades of economic necessity (read "avarice"). We have seen the roasted babies and unhatched eggs of a colony of eastern bluebirds, victims of economic improvement (read "egomanical gluttony"). We have watched trucks roll over and crush the bones and pottery of Middle Prong's peoples of a thousand years ago as an economic boost (read ..myopic stupidity"). Nowhere in English Common Law, the Codes of civilized peoples, the scriptures of the world's great religions, or in the minds of the most primitive man is it written that a color TV; a trip to Disneyworld, a recreational vehicle, or a house trailer on Sampson Lake gives any member of mankind the right to exterminate one colony of Bluebirds, a stand of albino nodding pogonlas, a nest of eaglets, or one Florida panther. Don't let this happen to you or to your kids, Baker County.