May 4, 2008 - Crystal River to Carabbelle, Florida
Today we packed up and headed out of Crystal River. The campground filled over the weekend with family groups and friends. The area offers something for everyone’s interest and at night we could see people sitting around camp fires laughing and sharing their day’s experience.
Not only were there some serious fishermen/women, I found that there were some very serious cooks in the campground. As I walked our dog, I saw huge stainless steel BBQ’s that people had brought from home, along with big, black barrel smokers and huge pots for boiling shrimp or frying who knows what! A group of girls circulated the campground in a golf cart selling fresh boiled Cajun peanuts for $3 a bag. They smelled pretty good, but a bit spicy!
With all of the campers, we expected a traffic bottle neck getting away on Sunday morning, but luckily that was not the case. The roads north were both well maintained and free of traffic.
Instead of going to church, we decided to visit and pay homage to the town of Rosewood, FL. A few years ago, we rented a movie called, Rosewood and were deeply affected when at the end of the film, we found out that the story was true.
It was about a small, peaceful black community situated near Cedar Key on the Gulf coast of Florida. In January of 1923 a white woman from a neighboring community had an affair with a Caucasian man. When her husband found out, rather than confessing the truth, she fabricated a lie, accusing a black man from Rosewood of raping her. A white vigilante group organized (I’m certain that KKK members joined in), set fire to the town and killed a number of people. Black families fled into the pine forests literally running for their lives. Survivors vowed to never speak of the attack, until 1974, when the woman finally came forward with the truth. In 1994 Governor Jeb Bush made monetary restitution to the survivors and set up an ongoing college fund for descendants of those that were killed or terrorized.
There is nothing left but a memorial sign and the thick, old pine forest. At one point during our short visit we headed down a wrong street (our GPS failed us!).It was a rural residential area where I had to back the trailer about a quarter mile. The street was dotted with modest homes and trashy mobiles, some flying confederate flags…each front door swinging open to allow their inhabitants to peer through from their darkness at what these weird people were doing backing a trailer rig down their street. Luckily no one came out strumming a banjo.
We’ve heard reference many times about how southern Florida is more like the northern Atlantic states and northern Florida is like the southern states. As we venture up into the panhandle and begin to hear a thick, distinct drawl, I have no doubt that we are entering the Deep South!
Today we packed up and headed out of Crystal River. The campground filled over the weekend with family groups and friends. The area offers something for everyone’s interest and at night we could see people sitting around camp fires laughing and sharing their day’s experience.
Not only were there some serious fishermen/women, I found that there were some very serious cooks in the campground. As I walked our dog, I saw huge stainless steel BBQ’s that people had brought from home, along with big, black barrel smokers and huge pots for boiling shrimp or frying who knows what! A group of girls circulated the campground in a golf cart selling fresh boiled Cajun peanuts for $3 a bag. They smelled pretty good, but a bit spicy!
With all of the campers, we expected a traffic bottle neck getting away on Sunday morning, but luckily that was not the case. The roads north were both well maintained and free of traffic.
Instead of going to church, we decided to visit and pay homage to the town of Rosewood, FL. A few years ago, we rented a movie called, Rosewood and were deeply affected when at the end of the film, we found out that the story was true.
It was about a small, peaceful black community situated near Cedar Key on the Gulf coast of Florida. In January of 1923 a white woman from a neighboring community had an affair with a Caucasian man. When her husband found out, rather than confessing the truth, she fabricated a lie, accusing a black man from Rosewood of raping her. A white vigilante group organized (I’m certain that KKK members joined in), set fire to the town and killed a number of people. Black families fled into the pine forests literally running for their lives. Survivors vowed to never speak of the attack, until 1974, when the woman finally came forward with the truth. In 1994 Governor Jeb Bush made monetary restitution to the survivors and set up an ongoing college fund for descendants of those that were killed or terrorized.
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| Pine forest |
There is nothing left but a memorial sign and the thick, old pine forest. At one point during our short visit we headed down a wrong street (our GPS failed us!).It was a rural residential area where I had to back the trailer about a quarter mile. The street was dotted with modest homes and trashy mobiles, some flying confederate flags…each front door swinging open to allow their inhabitants to peer through from their darkness at what these weird people were doing backing a trailer rig down their street. Luckily no one came out strumming a banjo.
We’ve heard reference many times about how southern Florida is more like the northern Atlantic states and northern Florida is like the southern states. As we venture up into the panhandle and begin to hear a thick, distinct drawl, I have no doubt that we are entering the Deep South!
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