This Lore submitted by DS Adonaset FortOyea, Tau Natiaos, GuatiaosHere is story of the White Potato Clan
The question regarding the status of mixed-bloods in the Indian community keeps coming up. Both F.B.I. (Full Blood Indian) and mixed bloods ask this question, both of themselves and the community. The question is not a new one; it has been asked every since the first mixed-blood child was born. I offer no answer to the question, only a Mvskokee (Creek) story:
When the 'others' invaded the land of the People, they settled in and made homes and began to farm the land. This first wave of the invasion force gave the appearance of coming in peace, and so they were met by the People in peace.
For many years the People and the 'others' lived side by side in peace, and friendships developed, and something as old as time happened, people met and fell in love. Some of the People took 'others' for wives.
These marriages produced children, and a problem soon developed. In the Mvskokee tradition, clan is passed through the mothers' family, but since the 'others' did not belong to any Mvskokee clan the children were clanless.
This caused problems for the children and the People. It is a bad thing to be clanless. You can never marry within your own clan, so how would future marriages for the clanless children be handled? The children were well loved by their parents, but were not completely accepted into the community.
The mothers of the clanless ones were very saddened by what was happening to the children so they went to the Elders and asked for advice. The Elders told them to go out together and pray to the Creator, and if their hearts were pure the Creator would hear their prayers.
The women then departed from the village and went out to a place of prayer and offered up their supplications to the Creator. For many days they prayed and the Creator hear their prayers and saw the sincerity in their hearts.
The Creator told the women to go to the place of soft ground and black waters and to stay there and search until they found a plant that would cry out to them from under the ground.
The Creator told them that if they found this plant and did as the plant instructed them, they would not only find a clan name for their children, but they would also give the People a gift that would feed the People for ever.
The women left the place of prayer and went back to the village. They said good-bye to their husbands and children and left for the place of soft ground and black waters. The place of soft ground and black waters is a place filled with biting insects, snakes, thorns, mud, spiders, the hungry logs, and strange spirits. This was a place that would test the hearts of the women.
For many days they searched and listened for the plant that would call out to them from under the ground. Just as the women were about to give up all hope of finding the plant, they prayed again to the Creator, and then they heard the voice of the plant calling out to them.
It was difficult to find the plant because it was hidden from view, but finally they found it and dug it up. The plant told the women that even though it was from under the ground, the Creator had given it the ability to see in every direction at one time.
This is what the women were instructed to do, they were to take the plant to the village of the People, once there they were to take a knife and cut out the eyes of the plant, the eyes were to be planted on a small mound. If the women followed these instructions the plant promised to grow and it would feed the People for ever.
The women followed the instructions of the plant, and the clanless children became known as the White Potato Clan, and the plant has continued to feed the People until this very day.
Monday, November 26, 2012
White Potatoe Clan
Thursday, November 8, 2012
Tampa's Stikini Witches
Through the first Seminole War a small group of elderly Seminole women were allowed to remain in their homes on North of Fort Brooke on the Hillsborough River. In 1835 The United States moved forward with plans to relocate all of the Seminole Indians west of the Mississippi. When given this news, these woman were enraged, refused to move and threatened that Fort Brooke would be forever cursed. Soon there after 110 soldiers left Ft Brooke moving Northward. The first morning at camp a young soldier was found dead in his bed, an investigation concluded that the man's heart had been removed. This same scenario happened night after night and as fear of the Seminole womens' curse grew stronger, soldier Joseph Sprague abandoned his post. As he fled through the forest at dusk he saw the group of Seminole Women whom had cursed the soldiers. He watched in horror as they kneeled, chanted and expelled their internal organs from their mouths. One by one they then took the form of owls and took off into the night. They were the stikini witches of Seminole legend coming to exact their revenge. Sprague hurried the news to Fort Brooke but by the time reinforcements arrived all 109 other soldiers lay dead in their beds with their hearts removed. The group of elderly Seminole were never seen again but will always be remembered in this story of the Dade Massacre.
Monday, October 15, 2012
Men Visit The Sky
Near the beginning of time, five Seminole Indian men wanted to visit the sky to see the Great Spirit. They travelled to the East, walking for about a month. Finally, they arrived at land's end. They tossed their baggage over the end and they, too, disappeared beyond earth's edge.
Down, down, down the Indians dropped for a while, before starting upward again toward the sky. For a long time they travelled westward. At last, they came to a lodge where lived an old, old woman.
"Tell me, for whom are you looking?" she asked feebly.
"We are on our way to see the Great Spirit Above," they replied.
"It is not possible to see him now," she said. "You must stay here for a while first."
That night the five Seminole Indian men strolled a little distance from the old woman's lodge, where they encountered a group of angels robed in white and wearing wings. They were playing a ball game the men recognized as one played by the Seminoles.
Two of the men decided they would like to remain and become angels. The other three preferred to return to earth. Then to their surprise, the Great Spirit appeared and said, "So be it!"
A large cooking pot was placed on the fire. When the water was boiling, the two Seminoles who wished to stay were cooked! When only their bones were left, the Great Spirit removed them from the pot, and put their bones back together again. He then draped them with a white cloth and touched them with his magic wand. The Great Spirit brought the two Seminole men back to life! They wore beautiful white wings and were called men-angels.
"What do you three men wish to do?" asked the Great Spirit.
"If we may, we prefer to return to our Seminole camp on earth," replied the three Seminoles.
"Gather your baggage together and go to sleep at once," directed the Great Spirit.
Later, when the three Seminole men opened their eyes, they found themselves safe at home again in their own Indian camp.
"We are happy to return and stay earthbound. We hope never to venture skyward again in search of other mysteries," they reported to the Chief of the Seminoles.
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
Uncle Monday
Sometime in the late 18th century a slaver in West Africa captured a powerful shaman called Uncle Monday. They brought him to South Carolina where he was auctioned off to a plantation owner. It wasn't long before he had escaped and found his way down to Tampa, Florida.
Uncle Monday quickly became acquainted with the Seminole Indians who welcomed escaped slaves into their communities. The two groups were easy allies as the same white settlers who were hunting escaped slaves were also pushing the Seminole Indians further into Florida's interior.
Together, the Indians and escaped slaves won many battles against their common enemy. This lead to General Andrew Jackson sending in the U.S. military who would relocate the Indian tribes and hand over escaped slaves to an accompanying slave trader.
It was during this push that Uncle Monday's village was attacked. Unwilling to be captured again, he took to his shamanistic magic for an escape. He fled to the shore of nearby lake where he began repeat a chant in his native language. The alligators came to him from every direction, climbing up the muddy slips they use to slide into the water. Together they produced a chorus of bellows, as if to answer his call.
The slaver, who was waiting behind the military regiment, had seen Uncle Monday escape and followed him to the lake. As he approached, he saw the his head began to lengthen and his arms and legs began to shorten as he slowly transformed into an alligator. As Uncle Monday slid into the water, he proclaimed that the slaver would be cursed to die that day by alligator.
Knowing the power of Uncle Monday's curse, the slaver began shooting all of the alligators in the area so the curse couldn't possibly come true. When all of the alligators were dead he started to make his way back to the US military
regiment. It was then that the slaver stepped into one of the muddy, alligator slips and lost his footing. He slid down into the water where he sunk to the bottom and drown.
Uncle Monday escaped, changing back and forth from an alligator. The US military never never was able to catch him and he his still alive today. He ended up going North and living in .....They say some nights you can still hear the alligators answering his call with that same chorus of bellows.
Friday, September 7, 2012
Six Buried Treasure Legends in Florida
• The members of the Ashley gang were notorious bank robbers who terrorized the citizens of Florida, during the early part of the 20th century. They succeeded in stealing over $100,000 in cash and it is believed buried near their headquarters. This was near Canal Point at the southern tip of Lake Okeechobee. All the members of the gang were shot to death, but their loot has never been found.
• DeLeon Springs is the location of a treasure chest lost by unknown persons. In the 1890’s, a chest was seen on the bottom of Ponce deLeon Springs. It soon fell into one of the submerged caves and could not be recovered. The chest has eluded divers ever since.
• Three silver church bells were buried by Spanish padres in 1586, somewhere in the present city park area of St. Augustine, to keep them from Sir Francis Drake. The padres were killed, and the location of the silver bells lost.
• In 1702-1704, the British, under Governor James Moore of Carolina, raid Spanish settlements including a 52-day siege of St. Augustine. The town is captured, but the fort is not. Many of the people buried their valuables, and were later killed.
• In 1894, a merchant named Richard Crowe died in St. Augustine, leaving a will stating he buried $60,000 in gold coins on his property. Searchers were unable to locate the treasure.
• A Spaniard named Don Felipe, is known to have buried the family silver, along with a large amount of gold coins, on his plantation during the Seminole war before he was killed by Indians. Located 2 miles NW of Ocala.
Sunday, August 26, 2012
Qualenya Mermaid of Tampa Bay
A boy fishing on Bayshore Blvd caught a sting ray that had the face of a girl. He heard it say - If you spare my life, I will grant you one wish. It was coming from a sting ray. The boy released the sting ray to the water and she transformed into a real girl who said she was a queen named Qualenya. The boy told her that he had a very hard life and that he wished to be a prince. Qualenya granted him the wish and adopted him as her child. From then on the boy could turn into a stingray whenever he wanted. The stingray mermaid queen is visible on the historic seal of the Palma Ceia neighborhood of Tampa.
Thursday, August 16, 2012
Acrefoot Johnson
By Spessard Stone
James Mitchell Johnson, the third of eight children of Elias E. and Elizabeth (Keen) Johnson, was born on February 28, 1851 in Columbia ounty, Florida. With his parents, he moved to Manatee (now DeSoto) County about 1866. At Fort Ogden, Florida on January 22, 1877, he married Margaret Isabelle Chester, born August 1860. F. C. M. Boggess officiated.
The Savannah Morning News of August 2, 1877 related that Fort Ogden, a scattered village of about forty families, located within an area of four miles, with two churches, Baptist and Methodist, three stores, and a post office, received mail from Manatee by Pine Level overland and from Punta Rassa, embracing Fort Myers and Charlotte’s Harbor to Fort Ogden. It further reported, “A new route is to begin from Fort Meade, on the east side of Pease creek, a distance of seventy-five miles to Fort Ogden.”
With a new bride, James, affectionately known as “Acrefoot” for his size twelve boots, needed a job. Hearing that the Post Office was accepting applicants for the new route, he walked to Fort Meade where the postal agent was accepting applications.
The $26 per month position was sought by a number of others, but Big Ed Donaldson, a renowned Indian fighter of the Second Seminole War, and Acrefoot soon emerged as the favorites.
Big Ed confidently boasted: “I’ll take the mail down and bring it back once a week. I can guarantee the mail will go through, no matter what-hurricanes, rattlesnakes, Indians, or robbers!”
The postal agent replied, “That’s the spirit which built the postal service,” and invited Big Ed to put his “X” on the contract.
But Acrefoot advanced toward the pair and exclaimed: “Hold on there just a minute. I’d go as far as to wager I could make that trip with a load of mail at least twice a week and maybe three times, if old Ed can do it once!”
Looking up at Acrefoot, Big Ed countered, “You saying you’re a better man than me?”
Acrefoot, who was 6 feet 7 1/2 inches and weighed over 250 pounds, answered, “I ain’t saying I’m a better man. I’m just saying I’m a better walker and definitely the best man for the job.”
The agent then proposed, “The man who can walk the route the fastest will get the contract.”
Shaking hands, they agreed and set out the next morning. For the first ten miles or so they were as lock step as identical twins.
Then Acrefoot with his long strides began to pull away and at dusk entered Fort Ogden. After accepting delivery of the mail pouch, the postmaster jubilantly relayed the news to the village people.
A spontaneous party resulted with Acrefoot calling every square dance, except when he relieved the fiddler on several occasions.
Before day light, he passed the fiddle back to its master, picked up the Fort Ogden mail pouch, and strided off for Fort Meade.
Pausing to get a drink of water at Joshua Creek, he encountered Big Ed, who smugly drawled, “Looks like I caught up with you.”
To which Acrefoot responded, “Looks like you did. Except I’m going the opposite way!”
Acrefoot was awarded the contract. In one day he walked, first once a week, later twice a week, the Wire Road route, which proceeded from Fort Ogden to Joshua Creek, then to Long Point, Gum Heads, Dark Cow Pens, Crewsville, Bereah, and finally Fort Meade.
The Sunland Tribune of Tampa of April 1, 1880 reported of Acrefoot, “If you wear a number twelve boot, come along, we can match you, and the man at the end of which leg said foot is suspended, carries the United States mail from Fort Mead to Fort Ogden, a distance of sixty-five miles on foot, and is always reported on time.”
Many stories were related of Acrefoot’s exploits on his route, some of which I relate tongue-in-cheek:
For crossing streams and lakes Acrefoot used boats, which he left in place. This was a necessity as hungry alligators were eagerly awaiting; however, on occasions other sojourners would use his boats and he’d arrive only to spy the boat on the other side.
Once at Fort Ogden, he observed a gentleman gazing at a sail boat, which had just set sail. As Acrefoot approached, the man turned to him and implored: “I have got to catch that boat. If you’ll swim out and tell the captain to turn back for me, I’ll give you five dollars in gold.”
Acrefoot hesitated.
The other man then stammered, “Okay, ten dollars, but hurry!”
Acrefoot dove into the river and began swimming towards the outgoing vessel. Hearing a noise, he turned his head to see three bull gators slide into the water and advance rapidly towards him. Turning around, he saw the largest gator diving for the kill.
Doing a surface jacknife, Acrefoot observed the lead gator, jaws agape, break the murky water. Swiftly, he grabbed the reptile’s upper jaw, forced it back until it snapped, then with his knife killed the green monster with a stab in the neck.
With the other two alligators closing in on him, he swam like mad toward the schooner, and upon reaching it pulled himself aboard and directed the skipper back to the harbor.
As the craft embarked, the would-be passenger approached Acrefoot and remarked, “What some men won’t do for ten dollars!”
To which Acrefoot responded, “I’d have done it for five.”
On another occasion at Joshua Creek a trio of outlaws, intent on robbing the mail, beset him. One dropped out of a tree onto Acrefoot’s back. Using his herculean strength, he grabbed the attacker and flung him into the creek.
Then from the palmettos the other two advanced. With all his strength Acrefoot flung his mail pouch into the face of the first, which knocked him down. The third then took a swipe with a club at the mail carrier, but Acrefoot, evading the blow, grabbed the man’s arm in such a crunching vise that the bone in the man’s arm cracked.
Yelling in pain, he joined his buddies in a strategic withdrawal. As he watched the three flee, Acrefoot yelled, “That’ll learn you to try to rob the U. S. mail!”
In 1880, near Fort Hartsuff, Acrefoot met George Williams, a drummer, who was traveling south in his buggy.
“How about a ride?,” Williams offered.
Acrefoot, feeling a little under the weather, thanked the salesman and got into the buggy, but, after a few miles, he commanded, “Whoa, stop. I want to get out.”
“Why?,” queried Williams.
“I’m in a hurry,” the mail man replied.
Upon reaching Fort Hartsuff, Williams asked a farmer, “ Have you seen Acrefoot?”
“Why, yes, I have,” the farmer answered: “I met him about thirty minutes ago. He was hoping to make Joshua Creek by noon ‘cause he wanted to stop for dinner.”
His fast-footed walking soon brought him acclaim, and area cattlemen, F. C. M. Boggess, Ziba King, and Newton and Lewis Parker, offered to send him to an international walking contest at Washington, D. C. where they anticipated recouping their investment with side bets.
He, however, declined, “You know boys the mail’s gotta go.”
Ziba King, mounted on a stallion, once met Acrefoot walking towards Fort Ogden. “Hop on back, and I’ll give you a lift,” King invited.
“Thanks, but I’m in a hurry,” Acrefoot replied.
Angered by the rejection of hospitality, Judge King urged his horse into a gallop, but when he got into the village, the long legged mail carrier, smoking his pipe, was sitting in front of the general store.
One summer a Florida panther attacked him a few miles north of Fort Ogden. Later as the doctor was patching him up, he remarked: “Doc, Twasn’t fair. He bushwhacked me as I was backing away from his two pals. He near ‘bout got the best of me before I busted his neck.”
Margaret, his wife, once said to him, “James, I want you to take me to the camp meeting at Joshua Creek.”
“I can’t,” he responded, “My shoes are worn out and the only store that carries my size twelve is at Fort Meade.”
“What a man won’t do to get out of church,” she complained. “We’re out of coffee so get some while you’re there,” she ordered.
He returned that evening with the shoes and coffee.
A neighbor, seeing him building an odd looking apparatus, inquired, “What’che doing?”
Acrefoot answered, “My family is growing, and I need more money. I’m going to start hauling a passenger on my route.”
“That’s impossible,” the Thomas countered.
He then showed his amazed friend an armchair with shoulder straps, slipped the straps over his shoulders, had the neighbor sit in it, then commenced to trot with his passenger for several miles at the conclusion of which he was still breathing normally.
The Post Office, however, soon learned of his passenger service and ordered him to stop. Unable to make do without the extra revenue, Acrefoot in 1884 resigned although some nay sayers claim it was because the mail contract was awarded to the railroad.
Acrefoot moved to Nocatee where he delivered cross ties for the railroad when it was extended from Bartow to Punta Gorda. Subsequently he furnished cord wood for the railroad.
In 1900 James, then a farmer, and Margaret lived at precinct 9, Arcadia. Living with them were their children: Lola, born Nov. 1880; Guy, born Aug. 1887; Fairman, born Oct. 1891; and Annie, born Aug. 1895. The oldest child was Elias, born 1878.
Neighbors included: James M. and Ida Keen, Eli and Augusta Brannon, George and Sarah Williams, Elizabeth Keen Johnson who was living with her grandson Thomas H. Johnson, Richard and Fannie Sparkman, and Owen and Annie Carlton.
James M. “Acrefoot” Johnson died in 1922. Buried in Kabrich Cemetery, Nocatee, his tombstone epitaph has, "Cross Country Walking Mail Man, Affectionately Known As Acrefoot Johnson, His Creed: The Mail Must Go Through.”
With a new bride, James, affectionately known as “Acrefoot” for his size twelve boots, needed a job. Hearing that the Post Office was accepting applicants for the new route, he walked to Fort Meade where the postal agent was accepting applications.
The $26 per month position was sought by a number of others, but Big Ed Donaldson, a renowned Indian fighter of the Second Seminole War, and Acrefoot soon emerged as the favorites.
Big Ed confidently boasted: “I’ll take the mail down and bring it back once a week. I can guarantee the mail will go through, no matter what-hurricanes, rattlesnakes, Indians, or robbers!”
The postal agent replied, “That’s the spirit which built the postal service,” and invited Big Ed to put his “X” on the contract.
But Acrefoot advanced toward the pair and exclaimed: “Hold on there just a minute. I’d go as far as to wager I could make that trip with a load of mail at least twice a week and maybe three times, if old Ed can do it once!”
Looking up at Acrefoot, Big Ed countered, “You saying you’re a better man than me?”
Acrefoot, who was 6 feet 7 1/2 inches and weighed over 250 pounds, answered, “I ain’t saying I’m a better man. I’m just saying I’m a better walker and definitely the best man for the job.”
The agent then proposed, “The man who can walk the route the fastest will get the contract.”
Shaking hands, they agreed and set out the next morning. For the first ten miles or so they were as lock step as identical twins.
Then Acrefoot with his long strides began to pull away and at dusk entered Fort Ogden. After accepting delivery of the mail pouch, the postmaster jubilantly relayed the news to the village people.
A spontaneous party resulted with Acrefoot calling every square dance, except when he relieved the fiddler on several occasions.
Before day light, he passed the fiddle back to its master, picked up the Fort Ogden mail pouch, and strided off for Fort Meade.
Pausing to get a drink of water at Joshua Creek, he encountered Big Ed, who smugly drawled, “Looks like I caught up with you.”
To which Acrefoot responded, “Looks like you did. Except I’m going the opposite way!”
Acrefoot was awarded the contract. In one day he walked, first once a week, later twice a week, the Wire Road route, which proceeded from Fort Ogden to Joshua Creek, then to Long Point, Gum Heads, Dark Cow Pens, Crewsville, Bereah, and finally Fort Meade.
The Sunland Tribune of Tampa of April 1, 1880 reported of Acrefoot, “If you wear a number twelve boot, come along, we can match you, and the man at the end of which leg said foot is suspended, carries the United States mail from Fort Mead to Fort Ogden, a distance of sixty-five miles on foot, and is always reported on time.”
Many stories were related of Acrefoot’s exploits on his route, some of which I relate tongue-in-cheek:
For crossing streams and lakes Acrefoot used boats, which he left in place. This was a necessity as hungry alligators were eagerly awaiting; however, on occasions other sojourners would use his boats and he’d arrive only to spy the boat on the other side.
Once at Fort Ogden, he observed a gentleman gazing at a sail boat, which had just set sail. As Acrefoot approached, the man turned to him and implored: “I have got to catch that boat. If you’ll swim out and tell the captain to turn back for me, I’ll give you five dollars in gold.”
Acrefoot hesitated.
The other man then stammered, “Okay, ten dollars, but hurry!”
Acrefoot dove into the river and began swimming towards the outgoing vessel. Hearing a noise, he turned his head to see three bull gators slide into the water and advance rapidly towards him. Turning around, he saw the largest gator diving for the kill.
Doing a surface jacknife, Acrefoot observed the lead gator, jaws agape, break the murky water. Swiftly, he grabbed the reptile’s upper jaw, forced it back until it snapped, then with his knife killed the green monster with a stab in the neck.
With the other two alligators closing in on him, he swam like mad toward the schooner, and upon reaching it pulled himself aboard and directed the skipper back to the harbor.
As the craft embarked, the would-be passenger approached Acrefoot and remarked, “What some men won’t do for ten dollars!”
To which Acrefoot responded, “I’d have done it for five.”
On another occasion at Joshua Creek a trio of outlaws, intent on robbing the mail, beset him. One dropped out of a tree onto Acrefoot’s back. Using his herculean strength, he grabbed the attacker and flung him into the creek.
Then from the palmettos the other two advanced. With all his strength Acrefoot flung his mail pouch into the face of the first, which knocked him down. The third then took a swipe with a club at the mail carrier, but Acrefoot, evading the blow, grabbed the man’s arm in such a crunching vise that the bone in the man’s arm cracked.
Yelling in pain, he joined his buddies in a strategic withdrawal. As he watched the three flee, Acrefoot yelled, “That’ll learn you to try to rob the U. S. mail!”
In 1880, near Fort Hartsuff, Acrefoot met George Williams, a drummer, who was traveling south in his buggy.
“How about a ride?,” Williams offered.
Acrefoot, feeling a little under the weather, thanked the salesman and got into the buggy, but, after a few miles, he commanded, “Whoa, stop. I want to get out.”
“Why?,” queried Williams.
“I’m in a hurry,” the mail man replied.
Upon reaching Fort Hartsuff, Williams asked a farmer, “ Have you seen Acrefoot?”
“Why, yes, I have,” the farmer answered: “I met him about thirty minutes ago. He was hoping to make Joshua Creek by noon ‘cause he wanted to stop for dinner.”
His fast-footed walking soon brought him acclaim, and area cattlemen, F. C. M. Boggess, Ziba King, and Newton and Lewis Parker, offered to send him to an international walking contest at Washington, D. C. where they anticipated recouping their investment with side bets.
He, however, declined, “You know boys the mail’s gotta go.”
Ziba King, mounted on a stallion, once met Acrefoot walking towards Fort Ogden. “Hop on back, and I’ll give you a lift,” King invited.
“Thanks, but I’m in a hurry,” Acrefoot replied.
Angered by the rejection of hospitality, Judge King urged his horse into a gallop, but when he got into the village, the long legged mail carrier, smoking his pipe, was sitting in front of the general store.
One summer a Florida panther attacked him a few miles north of Fort Ogden. Later as the doctor was patching him up, he remarked: “Doc, Twasn’t fair. He bushwhacked me as I was backing away from his two pals. He near ‘bout got the best of me before I busted his neck.”
Margaret, his wife, once said to him, “James, I want you to take me to the camp meeting at Joshua Creek.”
“I can’t,” he responded, “My shoes are worn out and the only store that carries my size twelve is at Fort Meade.”
“What a man won’t do to get out of church,” she complained. “We’re out of coffee so get some while you’re there,” she ordered.
He returned that evening with the shoes and coffee.
A neighbor, seeing him building an odd looking apparatus, inquired, “What’che doing?”
Acrefoot answered, “My family is growing, and I need more money. I’m going to start hauling a passenger on my route.”
“That’s impossible,” the Thomas countered.
He then showed his amazed friend an armchair with shoulder straps, slipped the straps over his shoulders, had the neighbor sit in it, then commenced to trot with his passenger for several miles at the conclusion of which he was still breathing normally.
The Post Office, however, soon learned of his passenger service and ordered him to stop. Unable to make do without the extra revenue, Acrefoot in 1884 resigned although some nay sayers claim it was because the mail contract was awarded to the railroad.
Acrefoot moved to Nocatee where he delivered cross ties for the railroad when it was extended from Bartow to Punta Gorda. Subsequently he furnished cord wood for the railroad.
In 1900 James, then a farmer, and Margaret lived at precinct 9, Arcadia. Living with them were their children: Lola, born Nov. 1880; Guy, born Aug. 1887; Fairman, born Oct. 1891; and Annie, born Aug. 1895. The oldest child was Elias, born 1878.
Neighbors included: James M. and Ida Keen, Eli and Augusta Brannon, George and Sarah Williams, Elizabeth Keen Johnson who was living with her grandson Thomas H. Johnson, Richard and Fannie Sparkman, and Owen and Annie Carlton.
James M. “Acrefoot” Johnson died in 1922. Buried in Kabrich Cemetery, Nocatee, his tombstone epitaph has, "Cross Country Walking Mail Man, Affectionately Known As Acrefoot Johnson, His Creed: The Mail Must Go Through.”
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