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My Friendship With “The Black Hat Troubadour” Will McLean

Will Mclean who was the first folk artist inducted into the Florida Artists Hall of Fame in 1996
Will McLean, the first folk artist inducted into the Florida Artists Hall of Fame in 1996

By the time I met Will McLean he had already penned most of the hundreds of songs and poems he has become famous for.  He’d already performed at Carnegie Hall and made friends with the late Pete Seeger.  His glory days performing on the “Old Marble Stage” at the Florida Folk Festival were long since past.  The truth is, the day I met him I didn’t even really know him by name.  But I think therein lies the reason we became fast friends.  Will McLean was one of the most humble men I’d ever met.

It was in mid-November in 1985.  I was working in the WUFT-FM newsroom in Weimer Hall at the University of Florida when a tall man dressed all in black (that’s how I remember it) walked into my office and kindly, almost demurely, asked if he could post some fliers on the bulletin boards in the hallway to promote his concert that was to take place that following Sunday night November 17th in the Thomas Center in downtown Gainesville.  Just having someone come in and ask to post something was rare.  Thinking back on it, I’m surprised I didn’t just say yes or no.  I remember being intrigued by this man because of the soft-spoken way in which he asked me.  Maybe it was the way he was dressed and his stature that caused me to begin asking him questions, questions that today I’m a bit embarrassed that I asked, but so glad I did.

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Photo on Will McLean’s “Florida Sand” album

I remember questioning him about what kind of songs he’d written.  Instead of being surprised and offended that I didn’t know who he was he began to softly tell me some of the song titles and what they were about.  That’s where my friendship with Will McLean really began.  When he got to the song, “Hold Back the Waters,” my heart actually fluttered.  I had no idea how popular that song really was or the true history behind the song of the 1928 hurricane in Florida over Lake Okeechobee.  Geez, people in Florida had been singing this song like an anthem for more than 20 years.  But in 1985 I had only been living in Florida for a little more than two years and was just getting to know Florida history and area musicians.  But, I knew that song.  I fell in love with “Hold Back The Waters” when I was helping produce a national music series while out in the state of Kansas called, “The Walnut Valley Festival.”  The public radio station I was working for as news director, KHCC-FM, had produced 26 one-hour programs for national distribution.

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Album cover to record by Red and Murphy & Company I purchased at the Walnut Valley Festival in the early 1980s

My job was to interview all the musicians and produce features for the series.  It was my first real introduction to a genre of music you just don’t come across on the radio every day.  One of the groups performing in 1982 was Red and Murphy Henry, a bluegrass family band from Florida (now Virginia).  I can distinctly remember Murphy Henry introducing the song, Hold Back The Waters, saying it was about a hurricane.  Of all the songs I heard at the Walnut Valley Festival those two years in the early 1980s, this was the one song I sat down and wrote out the lyrics to and learned to sing. Listening back to the original tape I can hear Murphy Henry mentioning Will McLean’s name, but at the time I learned it I wasn’t as interested in the artist who wrote it as much as in the story of this devastating storm that pushed Lake Okeechobee’s waters over its banks and drowned between 3,000 to 4,000 people.

truck carrying victims of 1928 hurricaneThe 1928 storm was before television and the weather channel and before hurricanes even had names.  It intrigued me that the Seminoles living in Florida may have warned the storm was coming but people didn’t pay attention.  This storm is the reason there is now a dike all around Lake Okeechobee in South Florida.  There are many accounts from people recalling the storm describing how they were tied to trees by their families so they wouldn’t be swept away.  There are stories about the mass graves following the storm….some marked and some unmarked.  Yes, this was an intriguing song about history and my first introduction to what hurricanes could really do.

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Photo on Will McLean’s “Florida Sand” album

I loved “Hold Back The Waters.”  As soon as Will McLean mentioned it I remember blurting out, “I know that song.”  When I told him where I first heard it his eyes just lit up.  I wasn’t prepared for him to then ask, “Why don’t you come to my concert and sing it with me.”  He had just met me.  He didn’t know if I could sing or not.  I’m sure I thanked him kindly for asking, but he surely didn’t need me to come and sing.  It was his concert after all.  He insisted.

Will McLean waiting to performBefore he left the station I introduced him to our operations manager and our chief engineer and it was decided that WUFT would send its remote recording truck to the concert.  I remember sitting in a little room at the Thomas Center that night in November of 1985 practicing the song with Will.  I was so afraid I’d forget the words or forget how to play it on my guitar.  My fears were relieved when I saw Murphy Henry walk into the Thomas Center, the person I first heard sing the song out in Kansas.  It turned out that I didn’t have to worry about playing the guitar, I only had to sing the song with Will and Murphy.  My fears about forgetting the words disappeared.  Here is the introduction to the song that night in 1985


and here’s the recording of Will McLean, Murphy Henry and me singing “Hold Back The Waters.”

In 1985 I was engaged to be married to Lee Townsend from Cross Creek.  He was with me at the Thomas Center.  As it turns out, Lee knew Will for a different reason.  When he was working as a mechanic in Gainesville he often worked on Will’s old vehicles, doing his best to keep them running, many long after they should have been abandoned.  That night Will dedicated a poem to us. It was a poem so appropriate for a couple who lived in the woods in Cross Creek.

Florida's Black Hat Troubadour I will only say that following that November concert, for whatever reason, that professional recording got stashed away on a shelf and misplaced for nearly 12 years….a whole different story in itself.  Eventually, it resurfaced at just the right time because the new program director at WUFT-FM, Bill Beckett, had an appreciation for what this recording meant to history.  Working together with the Executive Director of the Will McLean Foundation, Margaret Longhill, we turned the recording into the CD, “Will McLean and Friends, Live at the Thomas Center.”  I met Margaret Longhill the same week I met Will in 1985.  She truly understood how rare this professional recording of Will McLean was.  We’ve been friends now for nearly 32 years.

Will McLean standing beside the van he used to travel around the state writing songs about his Florida sand
Will McLean standing beside the van he used to travel around the state writing songs about his Florida sand

Because of the way Will McLean lived, he had very few possessions.  After his wife Alice died of cancer Will spent most of his last years travelling around in an old beat up van and hanging out at campgrounds where he could fish or just plug in his extension cord at the homes of various friends.  He pawned many of his guitars to obtain money to buy wine and  he gave away cassette tapes of his recordings to just about everyone he met.  I think he enjoyed revisiting the places around Florida where his grandpa had taken him as a boy.  Those trips were the inspiration for many of his songs and poems.

Not all of the stories about Will McLean are pretty, but he was a unique individual….a treasure.  About a month after the Thomas Center concert Will came to Cross Creek to help me celebrate my 28th birthday.  I remember having a nice little music jam on my screened porch over Cross Creek.  What I also remember is that Will chose to just sit back and listen to everyone else sing and play, not wanting to be in the spotlight.  As much as I wanted him to play for us, I can now look back and appreciate how he didn’t want to be center stage the way some musicians do.  I liked that quality in him.

The same thing happened on March 15, 1986 at my wedding reception in Cross Creek.  Someone told me Will McLean had just arrived and was looking for me.  He had a wedding present for my husband Lee and me.  It was a cassette full of recordings he had made around the campfires at the Florida Folk Festival and other places.  Not wanting to be the focus of my wedding reception he kindly gave us his “best wishes” and disappeared. After getting to know Will better over the coming months I invited him into the WUFT studios to do a long interview in 1987.  You can hear my first interview with Will in 1985 when I was just getting to know him and the second interview where I knew Will a little better by clicking here.  Let’s just say I’m really glad I have those recordings.  There are stories in those interviews that needed to be preserved forever.

Painting of Will McLean by Marianne Dinella
Painting of Will McLean by Mary Ann Dinella

Will died in 1990 from cancer.  Friends gathered for his memorial in the Thomas Center, the same venue where I sang with him less than five years before.  Both floors of the Thomas Center were packed.  Many of his friends performed Will’s songs and told stories of how they knew him including the late Gamble Rogers, Don Grooms, Bobby Hicks, Dale Crider, Seminole Chief James Billie, Jeanie Fitchen, Mary Ann Dinella, Doug Gauss, Dennis Devine and Wayne Martin.  The list is long.  There were tears and much laughter as well.  I don’t think I’ve ever cried so hard.  He touched so many of us in so many ways.  This is the first time I’ve ever really written my thoughts about it.  Thank goodness someone actually video-taped the service.  It is a real treasure to see.

 

Will McLean holding a puppy on a chilly day Afterwards many of us went to Gore’s Landing by the Ocklawaha River to disperse Will’s ashes.  Some of those in attendance were Margaret Longhill, Don Grooms, Dale Crider and family, Donna Green-Townsend and family, Wayne Martin, and Bobby Hicks to name a few.  Gore’s Landing was one of Will’s favorite places to camp.  I saw him there while my family was also camping not long before he got so sick.

Sign dedicated to Will McLean at Gore's Landing
Sign dedicated to Will McLean at Gore’s Landing

Margaret Longhill chose the Ocklawaha River because before he died, McLean had told her that he had hoped to light a small campfire one last time at Gore’s Landing, his favorite campsite.  In this brief recording, you will hear a small portion of that special ceremony at the river:

the late Will McLean considered to be the "Father of Florida folk"
The late Will McLean considered to be the “Father of Florida folk”

In 1996 because of his artistic contributions Will became the first folk artist inducted into the prestigious Florida Artists Hall of Fame.  Friday, March 11th – Sunday, March 13th marks the 33rd anniversary of the Will McLean Music Festival.  

One of the highlights of the festival is the hour when the winners of the Will McLean Best New Florida Song Contest perform their winning songs.  Will always wanted to “Save Florida Through Music.”  It’s amazing how many songs there are now about his beloved “Florida Sand.”

 If you’ve never been to the Will McLean Folk Festival you really should check it out.  It’s truly a “songwriters festival.”  It’s held at the Sertoma Youth Ranch just 7 miles west of Dade City.  It’s small in comparison to many music festivals, but that’s why it’s so special.  The performers and the people who attend are all in the same campground, playing music throughout the night.  

Jessie and Lee Townsend
Jessie and Lee Townsend

My children have grown up there.  In 2016 my son Lee and daughter Jessie Townsend performed on both Saturday and Sunday at the festival and honored many songwriters who have passed on in a special “Florida Set.”  

 

I love sharing the legacy of Will McLean with the younger generation.  That being said, I can’t tell you how sweet it is that my granddaughter literally fell in love with one of Will’s songs as an infant.  If she was crying, it soothed her.  When she began to talk, she asked for the song to be played.  By the age of two she was singing the words with her Aunt Jessie and Uncle Lee.  Here’s a version of them singing it together.

As the late singer-songwriter Pete Seeger said, “Will McLean’s songs will be sung as long as there is a Florida.”  Rest in Peace Will McLean, my friend.

Remembering Jesse Roger Jenkins on the 50th Anniversary

Jesse Jenkins was killed in the line of duty 50 years ago this year

This is a narrative fifty years in the making. I’ve wanted to share my thoughts on the death of Missouri State Highway Patrolman Jesse Roger Jenkins for many years, but the subject was just too painful to write about. It has now been five decades since Jesse was gunned down in a shootout in the Montgomery City, MO courthouse. When he died on October 14, 1969 Jesse was only 29 years old.  I was only 11.

Articles from a variety of journalists have appeared throughout the years giving an account of the details of the tragedy that day in my small hometown of Montgomery City.  The most thorough write-up is in an article by the Missouri State Highway Patrol itself.

Jesse’s widow Jan receiving a plaque to honor her late husband Jesse. Standing to the right is my dad, Mo state highway patrolman Sterling L. Green

Though the highway patrol article mentioned I was taking care of Jesse’s two children that evening in 1969, the account does not give a detailed perspective from my point of view as the young babysitter who was really still a child myself.  It’s important to me to share that perspective after all these years.

Jesse and a burglary suspect both died in an exchange of gunfire in the Montgomery County Courthouse late in the afternoon on October 14th, 1969. Details of the shooting are described in the highway patrol article. In summary, there were two suspects who had just made their first appearance in magistrate court for a burglary of a radio and television shop in town.  While in the sheriff’s office one suspect, who wasn’t handcuffed at the moment, grabbed the sheriff’s gun when the sheriff turned to take a phone call and began shooting.  Trooper Jenkins returned fire. Both died at the courthouse. Jesse’s quick action saved the lives of all the other law enforcement officials in the room that day. That makes him a hero. Jesse had only been on the patrol for less than two years.  Again, the details of who the suspects were and what exactly happened are not why I decided to write this account.  I want to talk about the man who became a hero that day to so many, especially to me.

Jesse Jenkins standing beside his patrol car in Montgomery City, MO

 In the 50 years since that tragic day I have continued to grieve the loss of such an incredible young man who was a friend of our family and a fellow officer of my father who served with Jesse as a highway patrolman in that small town of less than 3,000 people. My father, the late Sterling L. Green, helped train Jesse on the job once Jesse completed his training at the highway patrol academy.  My dad also adopted Jesse as part of our family as he waited for his wife Jan and his two boys, Jeff and Bruce, to arrive at their home in Montgomery City.

Jesse and Jan’s son Jeff
Jesse and Jan’s son Bruce

We spent hours playing music together in our small living room.  My dad and two older brothers all played guitar.  My dad had a reel to reel tape recorder and captured us on tape singing and playing. 

From left to right my brother Danny, sister Denise, me, my late brother Stanley and my brother Sterling in 1968

I particularly remember hearing Jesse singing gospel songs. I have since learned Jesse grew up singing in his church choir as a young man. My brother Sterling specifically remembers how Jesse liked to sing the Buck Owens song, “The Race Is On.” He also remembers him helping our dad coach 3rd base in the summer when my brothers were playing baseball.  He has a funny recollection of Jesse leaving his sunglasses on at an evening game after the sun went down and wondered why it was getting so dark. 

Jesse also attended one of my brother’s basketball games in Troy, MO when the court was still on a stage before the school got its new gym.  He also recalls getting advice from Jesse on how to shoot a basketball with both hands so that he could be flexible when it came to scoring, depending on how the defense was playing him or trying to block his shot.  I’d like to think Jesse was smiling in heaven when he saw how his basketball advice helped my two older brothers as they and the rest of the varsity team at Montgomery County R-II High School went on to win the Class M State Championship just a few years later in 1972. Those were fun times for all of us.

One of my favorite pictures in 1968 showing our two families celebrating a birthday together. Jesse took the photo. (from left to right back row) my brother Danny, my dad Sterling, my brother Sterling Jr., my mom Mary and Jan Jenkins. (front row left to right) Jeff Jenkins, my brother Stan, my sister Denise, me and Bruce Jenkins.

I remember a special law enforcement family cookout by a lake near Mineola Hill outside of Montgomery City.  I remember it because they cooked frog legs, something I had never eaten before.  My brothers and I spent time in the lake with Jesse having a moss flinging battle.  I can still hear his laugh when he got in a good throw at my brothers.  It’s a silly memory, but always makes me smile…and what a smile Jesse had.

Jesse’s wife Jan had been studying nursing in southern Missouri when Jesse was stationed in Montgomery City. When she and young sons Jeff and Bruce finally joined Jesse my parents often invited them over to play cards or games like “Jart” in the back yard. I recall one such night playing “Jart” just before Jesse died.  I found his sunglasses hanging on our clothes line a couple of days later and took them to my mom, the late Mary (Green) Stratman.  I remember she was very sad and it was then that she pulled out the patrol shirt Jesse had been wearing the day he was shot.  She showed me the hole in the shirt where the bullet had gone through to his chest and pointed out how there had only been a small fifty-cent-piece-sized blood stain around the bullet hole.  She was going to try and wash the blood out of the shirt. At only 11 years old that image has remained with me.  I had never seen anything like this before and the sadness on my mother’s face was something I will never erase from my mind.

Jessie Roger Jenkins official patrol photo

My father Sterling, or Leon as many called him, was a pretty stoic character.  He spent nearly four decades as a highway patrolman in Missouri.  Later in life I learned that he had worked nearly 400 fatality accidents in his career while working the road.  That statistic did not even include the other injury accidents he had worked along Interstate 70 and other highways.  He didn’t talk about his work with his five kids. It took until I was a parent myself that I fully appreciated the horrible things he must have seen.  That being said, it was only in July of this year (2019) that my brother shared with me a handwritten narrative he had found that my dad had written about the day of Jesse’s death. A page seems to be missing.  I don’t know if he wrote this for himself or to give to the highway patrol at the time, but it’s the first time I actually learned how my father felt about that horrible day.

I believe my dad never got over Jesse’s death. Maybe he felt guilty that he wasn’t there when the shooting took place.  He had just gotten home from his shift which ended at 4 p.m.  Jesse’s shift had just begun. I clearly remember my dad was putting his uniform away when the phone call came in to our home from Sheriff Clarence Landrum saying Jesse had been shot and was dead.

Just one of many newspaper reports about the shooting
Jan Jenkins attending a service for fallen law enforcement officers

My father raced back to the courthouse. I must have been in my room nearby and heard the commotion.  I recall my mother being on the phone talking with who I believe was the sheriff’s wife Annie.  I remember feeling like the room was swirling around.  I had never witnessed my mother so frantic.  I tugged on her arm trying to get her attention, but she was waving me off.  I persisted and finally got her attention when I said that Jesse’s wife Jan was on her way to our house because she was going to pick me up to babysit while she went bowling. Again, I was only 11 years old and my mother told me distinctly not to say one word when Jan came.  I was to get in the car and go along with Jan to babysit and act like everything was normal.

Jan arrived with one of our family’s mutual friends, Linda Dempsey.  I got into the back seat and vividly recall how happy they were, laughing and talking all the way to Jan’s home. The bowling alley was only a few blocks away. It’s strange how one’s mind recalls various details from the past.  What I remember was nine year old Jeff pulling a piece of hail out of their freezer that had fallen during a storm just a few days before.  It looked to be the size of a baseball. 

Jan and Jesse’s youngest son Bruce was around four years old and was a special needs child. When he woke up from a nap I recall putting him in a wagon in the house and pulling him around in a circle from the kitchen through the living room and around again, over and over. It helped to calm him. At some point I received a phone call.  It was Jan.  She told me not to turn on the television or radio because she didn’t want Jeff to hear any news.  From the urgency in her voice I knew that she had found out about Jesse’s death.  I guaranteed her I would do as she asked.  But then people began to come over who had obviously already heard the news.  I know that Jeff didn’t understand what was really going on as people began saying, “I’m so sorry.”

I don’t recall how I got home.  I have no recollection of the next day other than the small entry I had made into my diary that said,  “Today our friend Jesse Jenkins was killed.”  The funeral was scheduled to take place in Desloge in southern Missouri, but there was a visitation at the Schlanker’s Funeral Home in Montgomery City.  It was only the second funeral home I had ever been to.  A former sheriff’s adopted daughter had committed suicide as a teenager and my mom took me to the visitation in New Florence, MO a few years before. That room was filled with roses. I couldn’t stand the smell of roses for years after that.  At Jesse’s visitation I recall there was a uniformed highway patrolman, maybe even two, standing guard at his casket.  It made me feel nervous to approach Jesse’s coffin with them standing there.  Jesse was also dressed in his blue and black uniform.  He only seemed to be asleep to me.  It all seemed like a dream.

I’m sure it was only a day or so later, but my parents attended Jesse’s funeral at the Parkview Freewill Baptist Church in the Desloge community. I learned much later that my dad, who was Jesse’s training officer, was one of the pallbearers along with other officers from Troop F.  I saw a picture in a highway patrol bulletin showing the long line of highway patrol cars in the funeral procession and remember thinking how much I wished I could have seen that in person. My brothers and sister and I didn’t get to go.  I have always thought that was a mistake on my parent’s part.  I think they were too caught up in their own grief to realize that their children needed closure and a chance to grieve as well.  I have since learned the church where the funeral took place was small and only a limited number of people could attend the service.  That’s probably another reason why my siblings and I were not allowed to go.

 It took until 2014 before I was able to visit Jesse’s grave.  On that day, October 14th, 2014 I could finally say goodbye. 

Jesse’s wife Jan and her son Jeff and his wife Rose took me to the cemetery along with my second daughter Jessie that I named after Jesse. 

Highway marker on U.S. Highway 67 near Deloge, MO honoring Jesse Jenkins

We also drove down a section of U.S. Highway 67 between  Bonne Terre and Desloge named after Jesse. The family is so proud of that.

During that visit with Jan in October of 2014 I had the chance to meet her son’s children and grandchildren.  Jeff had also named one of his children Jessie.  It did my heart good to finally spend time with the whole family. 

Jan Jenkins and family along with my daughter Jessie
From left to right Jessie (Townsend) Armstrong, Jan Jenkins, me and Jeff Jenkins

Jan shared some of the pictures of her and Jesse from their dating years and from early in their marriage. 

Her son and grandsons look so much like their handsome grandpa that they never got to meet.

Jan’s two grandsons are on the left and her son Jeff is on the right

I shared some of my memories with Jan about that day in 1969 and agreed that it couldn’t have been a coincidence that my father died of a heart attack on the exact same day of October 14th thirteen years after Jesse’s death.  When Jan and son Jeff came to Jefferson City for my father’s funeral, the first words we spoke to each other on our home’s stairwell were, “Can you believe he died on the same day as Jesse?” This time I had the chance to experience first hand how it feels to be surrounded by the kindred spirit of the Missouri State Highway Patrol when one of their own passes away. It was quite moving for my family as I’m sure it was for Jan and her son Jeff when Jesse passed away in 1969.

Troopers with the MO State Highway Patrol carrying my father’s casket in October of 1982

As I mentioned earlier, my dad never really got over losing his fellow officer and friend.  It may be just one of the reasons why the picture of my dad kissing his first grandson goodbye as he headed for work in his uniform a few years later is so meaningful.  I think he realized how fragile life is and that family is everything. 

My dad a few months before he died giving a goodbye kiss to his grandson James before he headed off to work

Jan pulled out a box that held Jesse’s uniform. I wondered if it was the same one my mother had held up to me back in 1969 when she planned to clean off the blood stain.  I ran my hand over the shirt and thanked her for showing it to me.  She hoped to donate it to the MO State Highway Patrol. 

My daughter Jessie in front of the plaque honoring Jesse Jenkins in Jefferson City, MO

A couple of days before visiting the Jenkins family in 2014 I took my daughter Jessie to the MO State Highway Patrol Memorial by the state capitol building in Jefferson City where there are plaques for each law enforcement officer killed in the line of duty.  I wanted my daughter to see Jesse Jenkins’ plaque.  We were joined by longtime friends Melinda (Dolan) Sanders and Laura (Tinnin) Lewis.  Melinda’s late father, William Dolan, had been the Superintendent of the MO State Highway Patrol before he retired. Laura’s late father, Norman “Gene” Tinnin, served as a Captain on the highway patrol until he retired. 

The tragedy of losing Jesse Jenkins has had a profound effect on my life.  I studied to become a journalist at the University of Missouri School of Journalism and spent four decades working in radio and television news.  While teaching young journalists at Hutchinson Community College in Kansas and at the University of Florida in Gainesville I often shared the story about Jesse.  I have been told that law enforcement radio transmissions about the shooting in the courthouse in Montgomery City that October day in 1969 may have been intercepted by various media who broadcast the information before the first of kin had been notified.  It’s why Jan had called me that day I was babysitting to tell me not to turn on a television or radio.  If that’s truly what happened, it was not an ethical thing for the media to have done.  I shared that lesson with my students.  It was because of that action that my dad had to find Jan driving down the street before she could get to the bowling alley to tell her what happened, because everyone at the bowling alley had already heard the news.  My brothers remember that our dad then brought her to our home.

Jesse Roger Jenkins

Lately there have been a lot of 50 year anniversary celebrations and specials on television about 1969….everything from landing on the moon to Woodstock.  But for me, 1969 will always be the year we lost a hero, Jesse Roger Jenkins. It was also the year I lost a bit of my childhood.  RIP Jesse Jenkins.  Gone too soon.

Reflecting on Rocky: My Time As A Movie Extra

“All the excitement about the newly-released movie “Creed II” starring Michael B. Jordan and Sylvester Stallone brings back thoughts about one of the most memorable days of my life in Hollywood as an extra in the filming of  “Rocky III.”

 

Sylvester Stallone at filming of Rocky III in 1981
Sylvester Stallone at filming of Rocky III in 1981 (photo by Donna Green-Townsend)

The first “Creed” movie garnered Oscar buzz for Sly Stallone as Best Supporting Actor. Though he didn’t win the coveted golden statue, the film did well in the box office. “Creed I” featured an older version of Stallone’s character, “Rocky Balboa” who decides to help Adonis, the son of his old nemesis Apollo Creed played by actor Michael B. Jordan.

In “Creed II”  light heavyweight contender Adonis Creed, once again under the tutelage of Rocky Balboa, faces off against Viktor Drago, the son of Ivan Drago, the Russian boxer who battered Adonis’ father so badly  during the fight decades before that Apollo Creed died in the ring.

It was in 1976 when a much younger Stallone captivated the country with his debut as Rocky Balboa, a small-time boxer who went on to become the heavyweight champion boxer of the world.

The rags to riches boxing tale became the highest grossing film of 1976. ‘Rocky’ received 10 Academy Award nominations.  The film knocked out heavyweights ‘All the President’s Men,’ ‘Network’ and ‘Taxi Driver’ to win Oscars for Best Picture, Director and Editing.

Thus began a long-running series of ‘Rocky’ movies.

All the anticipation about the lastest “Creed” movie stirs up interesting memories for me about the day I found myself working for free as an extra during the filming of “Rocky III” while visiting Hollywood, California.

Rocky III filming in 1981
Sylvester Stallone and Mr. T preparing for a scene in Rocky III in 1981 (photo by Donna Green-Townsend)

I was in California in 1981 attending a National Public Radio Conference and decided to stay a few extra days with a friend since I had never been to the Golden State.  One day on the trip while walking along Venice Beach my friend and I came across a guy looking for extras for the filming of the fight scene between Rocky and “Mr. T” for the film “Rocky III.”  Since my friend had to work the next day I thought, “why not….this could be very interesting.”

My friend dropped me off at Olympic Auditorium in downtown Los Angeles.  Hundreds of other extras like me were ushered into the seats around the arena and given instructions on what was expected from us.

It was very exciting to see Stallone up close dressed in his boxing attire.  I can still visualize the atmosphere of the place.  Some type of foggy-looking mixture was piped in to make the arena look smokey.  I remember how I expected to see some real fight scenes.  But, alas, this was Hollywood and that’s not the way it’s done.  Scene after scene demanded retake after retake.  Videographers shot the same scenes from various angles, even from the ceiling.

Donna with Mr T at filming of Rocky III in LA 1981
Donna with Mr T at filming of Rocky III in LA 1981

It was long day.  The film crew served boxed lunches and handed out raffle tickets for a few prizes to keep the arena extras calm.  But it was “Mr. T’s” willingness to go out into the crowd on a meet-and-greet that made the day fun for many.

What surprised me was how the movie crew wanted the crowd to cheer wildly during the fight scenes, but in gesture only.  We weren’t allowed to make any noise.  All of the sound would be added later.  That’s more difficult than one might think, especially for a broadcast girl like me.

I took along my little pocket camera for the day.  Surprisingly, no one seemed to mind that I kept taking a lot of pictures of the action all around me.  I did get pretty close to Sylvester Stallone at one point.  I remember he stared straight at me with what seemed like a look that said, “Hey lady, haven’t you taken enough pictures yet?”  Just as I snapped the picture he turned his head to the right.  It made the picture even better.  Fake blood dripped from his face.  His torso had a shine to it from the baby oil the crew had sprayed on to make it look as if he was sweating.  Awww Hollywood.

I’m told the crew filmed two separate endings so the extras and others wouldn’t know who actually won the fight until the final picture came out.  Here are some of the photos I took that day.

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I’m often asked if I can spot myself in the actual “Rocky III” movie.  I have tried to pause the tape when I see shots that I was there for, but it’s so hard to see individual crowd members in all the fake smoke.  Plus, the edits are all so quick.  That’s what makes the ‘Rocky’ series of movies so exciting.

My favorite moments included  getting the chance to stand right behind Rocky’s fight corner during some of the scenes as he was being pummelled by Mr. T.  It seemed so real.

Newspaper feature headlineWhen I returned back to my job as News Director of KHCC-FM in Hutchinson, KS after my vacation, the local newspaper there wrote a little feature article on my experience.  I still feel a little guilty that the headline they came up with gives the impression I didn’t enjoy being an extra in the movie.

Though it wasn’t as exciting as one might expect, it was still interesting to see how movies are made.  More than that, it was exciting to share an arena with Rocky Balboa….even if I had to share it with hundreds of other people.

Would I do it again?  You betcha.

My friend Margaret

The love was poured out for Margaret as we celebrated her life

How can one summarize a 33 year friendship?  It’s nearly impossible…but in this personal blog I wanted to share the personal memories I shared at Margaret Longhill’s funeral service held today in Citrus Springs at the St. Elizabeth Ann Seton Catholic Church. Every one there had their own special memories of this special lady, these are just some of mine.

 

Eulogy from Donna Green-Townsend for Margaret Longhill March 6, 2018

“To one who bears the sweetest name and adds a luster to the same…who shares my joys, who cheers when sad, the greatest friend I ever had, ”

It’s a poem etched on a pillow my grandmother had years ago that describes how I feel about Margaret.

When I was sad and called Margaret on the phone to share something I was going through she would say, “You just pack your overnight bag and come over.”  She’d have chicken soup waiting and a glass of wine and listen.  We’d sit in the river room and look out over the Withlacoochee and Rainbow Rivers and talk, sometimes for hours.  It was the best medicine.

The same was true if I was happy. She shared my joys.

When I was working on the documentary, “Apalachicola Doin’ Time,” it was Margaret that I called to share my excitement about the work in progress…a one-hour documentary that incorporated Florida music about rivers along with the story about the Tri-State Water War over the Apalachicola River.

We squirreled ourselves into the little apartment where John and DeeDee Semmes live now…away from phone distractions and she listened to every word uninterrupted. When the documentary won a National Edward R. Murrow Award, Margaret and Mem Semmes traveled to Gainesville to join in the celebration.  She then gave the musicians stage time at the Will McLean Festival to sing their Florida songs, songs inspired by Will McLean’s desire to “Save Florida Through Music.”

I first met Margaret the same week I first met Will McLean in November, 1985. She was there in the audience when I sang “Hold Back the Waters” with Will and Murphy Henry. It was a thrill of a lifetime for me… so you see, she shared my joy.

She was there on the front row at Will’s Memorial Service in that same Thomas Center, one of the saddest times I can remember. We all walked down to the Ocklawaha River by Gore’s Landing, Will’s favorite camping spot, that January 24th, 1990 singing Amazing Grace and dispersed Will’s ashes into the river. Our friends were there- Don Grooms, Bobby Hicks, Dale Crider and many others. My two daughters, now 30 and 29 were just 1 ½ and 3 that day as we all helped Will cross over to somewhere in the wind. Now today we are helping Margaret cross over.

When my son Lee came along it was Margaret, Mem and Jon who encouraged him in his love for music and helped him purchase his first guitar. Lee is now 24 and performing at the Will McLean Festival as so many other young people are with Margaret’s loving encouragement and direction.

In Margaret’s endeavor to keep Will McLean’s songs alive for the next generation, my daughter Jessie and son Lee recorded two of Will’s songs on a CD: Macclenny Farewell and Crying Bird. Now my oldest daughter Ellie has a baby of her own. Emeline Rose can be quieted by simply playing, “Crying Bird” on that CD. I can hear Ellie saying it now, “Hurry mom, put on Crying Bird.”

Two favorite funny memories are Margaret’s willingness to allow my son Lee at around 7 years old to bring dog owners and their pets on stage at the Will McLean Festival. He’d spent the day interviewing festival goers about their pets with Margaret’s approval. That night he brought up the largest dog, smallest dog and most unique dog and gave them prizes- what else but folk CDs. That was Lee’s first stage appearance.

Later at the age of 90 Margaret drove herself to Alachua to celebrate Lee’s 18th birthday at Conestogas Restaurant and consumed giant stogie burgers with the rest of us.

 

 

She attended my daughter Ellie’s wedding and celebrated the birth of Ellie’s first child with a stuffed musical lamb that now soothes my granddaughter to sleep at night.

She also spent the night with my family in Cross Creek and toured the Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings home… and on another trip to Cross Creek we showed up at a campfire jam on New Year’s Eve at Dale Crider’s home in Windsor, famous for picking parties.

While in Cross Creek In July of 2010, we spent time at the Twin Lakes Fish Camp looking out over Lochloosa Lake and a beautiful dragonfly befriended us. In a true dragonfly encounter we spent at least a half hour passing the beautiful creature back and forth from my finger to hers and my friend Priscilla Hall.

 

1997 through many years of monthly Sunday Samplers, music was alive on Margaret and Mem’s front patio.  Margaret was always busy handing out bongo drums and shakers so everyone could participate in the music making. I miss those music jams so much.

 

 

 

 

 

 

In 2004 when Hurricane Jeanne forced the cancellation of Amy Carol Webb’s Sunday Sampler concert many just headed to Margaret’s for a private concert. As a news gal I had to work covering the storm, so Margaret called me on the phone and had Amy serenade me in a song or two.

Margaret rarely missed calling me on birthdays to sing happy birthday to me. I treasured those calls.

Through many Will McLean Music Festivals and Florida Folk Festivals she allowed me to plug an extension cord into her RV, just as Will McLean did when he’d travel around to see his friends, allowing us both to have a fan and a light.

And of course Margaret always had the coffee pot ready for all who were camped with her.

At one of the last Florida Folk Festivals that Margaret was able to attend there was a gullywasher of a storm, so many of us tent campers piled into Margaret’s RV. And in what seems so natural, we wrote a song together about the music in the rain and thunder and lightning.

I am honored to be allowed to speak about her today. She has been a true confidant and friend to me and my family for 33 years, through all our birthdays and weddings, joys and sadness. I will feel her presence in my life forever as I know today, as Will McLean would say, she is “somewhere in the wind.” Love you Margaret!

On Sunday, March 11, 2018, musicians and friends gathered on the Magnolia Stage at the Will McLean Festival to sing the final hymn to say goodbye to the Matriarch of Florida Folk, Margaret Longhill. Look very closely and you will see a dragonfly make an appearance on the 4th verse of Amazing Grace on the line, “bright shining as the sun” on my microphone, (the 2nd to last mic from the right). It only flew away when I moved my finger toward it at the end of the song. Margaret loved dragonflies.

As you can see in this picture (and as mentioned above), once while sitting at the Twin Lakes Fish Camp in Cross Creek overlooking Lochloosa Lake, a blue dragonfly landed on her hand. For the next half-hour Margaret passed the dragonfly from her finger to me and friend Priscilla Hall. So it seemed so special that one would land on my microphone during Amazing Grace. Many people call dragonflies “skeeter hawks.” I like to think of Margaret as a “Skeeter Hawk” now flying with her dear friend Will McLean who always said his soul was a hawk. Now they’re both “somewhere in the wind.”


 

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A true “Mother’s Day” story about courtship in Cross Creek

DSC08728Editor’s note: I’m tickled to say that even though he didn’t use his rifle to shoot down this year’s magnolia blossom, my husband kept his Mother’s Day tradition alive this year (2017).

 

 

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Here’s the audio version of the chapter called, “Mother’s Day” by Shelley Fraser Mickle. (full written text with pictures can be found below)

I’m proud to call Shelley Fraser Mickle a friend.  Shelley is one of the most entertaining writers I’ve ever met.  For many years radio listeners were able to hear her commentaries on life on not only WUFT-FM, but also nationally as she contributed her talent doing commentaries for NPR‘s “Morning Edition.”  She’s also an award-winning author of several novels.

I always looked forward to the days she would come in to the station and record her commentaries because on those days we had the opportunity to catch up on life.  That being said, as a journalist I should have known that some of the “Cross Creek” stories I shared with her would one day make it into print.  I’m actually quite pleased she was listening so closely.  My family is very proud of the chapter she wrote on my Cross Creek romance called, “Mother’s Day.”  She genuinely captured some of the unique qualities of my husband Lee Townsend in our “courting days.”

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(Full text of chapter called “Mother’s Day” from Shelley Fraser Mickle’s book, The Kids are gone; The Dog is Depressed & Mom’s On The Loose.)

 

 

I have a friend who lives at Cross Creek. She moved there over a decade ago from up North, and she would have left probably any number of times except that she fell in love with a man from the Creek. And that made all the difference. Apparently men at the Creek take the romancing of a woman very seriously.

For instance, a first date might be only a midnight fishing trip under a full moon on Orange Lake. It might be a frog gigging, or a beer shared out on a wooden bench near the Creek until it is dark and quiet, so that then you can listen to the alligators bellow in Lochloosa.

scan0001And you’ll know when the courting gets serious if a fella invites you to ride a boat out into the cypress woods after a big rain to watch the water run into the lake.

 

 

 

Let's Go Fishin'But no matter if you are fishing, gigging, or watching water, it’s a pretty sure fact that all the while, a certain magic is being practiced on you. So that afterward, it is very likely, your life will never be the same.

Creek men are aware of their power. And they strut it comfortably. For instance, it was reported that at the Marjorie Rawlings’ house, the staff spotted a snake sneaking into one of the rooms, and out of desperation, called one of the Creek men. After all, a man who has grown up at the Creek knows more than you ever want to know about snakes and how to handle them.

Chicken Snake MKR pump house A 2012-11-04_12-36-26_781As the story goes, this Creek man sauntered up the steps to the house, saying he’d handle that snake, just point him to it. Then went into the room where the snake was and shut the door. In a few minutes he came back out and announced, “That’s a female chicken snake. And it won’t take me but a minute to get her to move on out of here.”  One of the caretakers was really curious and asked, “But how do you know it’s a female snake?”  The creek man didn’t even blink. “Because she quivered when she looked at me,” he said.

sweethearts 1985I guess that really does say it all. Yes, the men at the Creek have a certain powerful charm. And it’s said that everybody knows when a creek man is seriously courting a woman, because that’s the only time he wears shoes.

 

scan0002So after my friend fell under the spell of one and married him, then stayed there to raise a family with him, she had to learn how to take on all sorts of new ways of thinking and saying things.

 

 

 

Pregnant with Ellie

When she became pregnant with their first child, she says she had to relearn how to announce that fact. For out at the Creek no one is ever pregnant. No. Rather it’s that you’re fixin’ to have a youngin’.

 

Baby Ellie

And then when the second one came, it was that she was fixin’ to have another one.Jessie

In fact, my friend says, since she has made her life at the Creek, she has found that almost everything she does has the word fixin’ it it.

File0009Last year on Mother’s Day, she was in the kitchen fixin’ to have a cup of tea when her husband sauntered up behind her, put his arms around her waist, and said to follow him, that he was fixin’ to give her a Mother’s Day present.

 

 

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He then led her outside, and on the way, grabbed his rifle, so that in only a minute they were standing under the giant magnolia that shades the whole side of the backyard. Then he propped his rifle on his shoulder and aimed it up toward the tree.

My friend says the blooms were like round white stars, perfuming the air with a sweetness that was like the smell of warm honey, or of spun sugar. Then her husband said to her, “Pick out one darlin’.”

And when she raised her hand toward a bloom near the top, he focused his eye down the rifle’s barrel and shot it down.

“Happy Mother’s Day,” he said, as he bent down and picked up the sweet white blossom that had fallen at her feet.

Celebrating the Life of John Henry Hankinson, Jr.

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John Henry Hankinson, Jr.

Florida lost an environmental giant on March 3rd when John Henry Hankinson, Jr. died.  On March 7, 2017 hundreds gathered at the Fort King Presbyterian Church in Ocala, FL for a celebration of his life. The service included not only friends and family, but environmental leaders from across the state and Southeast region of the United States.

During the “Celebration of Life” service, Hankinson was called a modern day Da Vinci,  a patriot and an environmental land use visionary and leader of the environmental protection movement.

He was described as a good husband and father who raised two sons and a person who could make people laugh and dream.

In an email read at the service former EPA Director, Carol Browner, described Hankinson as “a good friend to me and many, many others and mentor to untold number of conservationists.  He lived large and he lived well.”

Manley Fuller, Executive Director of the Florida Wildlife Federation, described Hankinson as, “someone who could disarm people with his humor and his brilliant dry wit…He was a brilliant conservation advocate who functioned at a high level but, with the common touch, he could comfortably negotiate complex deals for clean water with captains of industry or sit down and find common ground with regular folks along Florida’s waterways or around the Gulf of Mexico after the Deepwater Horizon disaster.”

See pictures and hear music from the celebration of life service below:

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John Hankinson shaking hands with President Barack Obama

John’s most recent position was the Executive Director of the Gulf Coast Ecosystem Restoration Task Force where he worked with 11 federal agencies and five states to develop strategy for restoration of the Gulf of Mexico following the Deepwater Horizon oil spill.  It’s my understanding he was selected for the position by former President Barack Obama.

He has also served as the Regional Administrator of the EPA’s office in Atlanta overseeing federal wetland regulation and state implementation of delegated Clean Water Act programs in eight southern states.

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Apalachicola Bayfront

His work included promoting comprehensive watershed and coastal aquatic ecosystem management including the Florida Everglades, National Estuary Programs, and efforts to establish a compact for the Apalachicola/Chattahoochee/Flint (ACF) River System.  The list of awards for his accomplishments is long.

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Before working for the EPA he held the position of Director of Planning and Acquisition at the St. John’s River Water Management District in Florida. In that capacity he helped the state acquire more than 200,000 acres of environmentally important lands.

Early in his career Hankinson told me he was inspired by the environmental activism of Marjorie Harris Carr.  Carr is best known for her work at helping stop the construction of the now defunct Cross Florida Barge Canal.  Even though the project came to a halt, there are dams on either side of the state, the Inglis Locke on the Gulf Side and the Kirkpatrick Dam (better known as the Rodman Dam)  between  the St. John’s and Ocklawaha Rivers.

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Cross Florida Barge Canal

In 1996 I produced a series on the Cross Florida Barge Canal controversy when the federal government gave money back to each of the counties who had contributed to the dream for the “Big Ditch.”   To hear John Hankinson’s comments about Marjorie Carr click on segment 5 of my Cross Florida Barge Canal Series entitled, “Remembering Marjorie Carr.”

Hankinson continued the efforts of Carr as he worked for years trying to restore the Ocklawaha River to be a free flowing system.  At times it seemed as if it would really happen as various governors and numerous environmental groups supported the idea.  But each time supporters thought the dam would finally be removed, state lawmakers pushed back.  Leading the opposition for many years was the late State Senator George Kirkpatrick who loved to fish on the Rodman Reservoir.

On the day I interviewed Hankinson for the series in 1997 he was in town for the first official “Undam the Dam Jam” held at the Cousin Thelma Boltin Center in Gainesville.   I can still recall how as we sat outside for our interview, a plane circled above us pulling a banner that read, “Save the Rodman.”  It was as if the opponents of the restoration effort knew I was talking to Hankinson and decided to disturb our interview.  We both got a pretty good laugh out of the scenario above us as I couldn’t keep interviewing him without picking up the sound of the plane overhead.  You can hear his comments in segment 6 of the series listed above.

Former Florida Lt. Governor Buddy MacKay spoke at the service and described Hankinson’s determination to “Free the Ocklawaha.”

Hankinson loved playing music and was an avid blues harmonica player with several bands including the band known as Johnny Matanzas and the Hombres as well as the band called, The Non Essentials.

On the morning of March 7th, 2017 John Henry Hankinson, Jr.’s body was laid to rest at Prairie Creek Cemetery near Micanopy , FL.

In lieu of flowers, his family suggested a donation be made to Florida Defenders of the Environment for the John H. Hankinson, Jr. Ocklawaha River Restoration Fund.  (put on bottom of the check).  The address is P.O. Box 357086, Gainesville, FL  32635.

John Henry Hankinson, Jr.   May 8, 1948 – March 3, 2017

RIP John

To read two other interesting articles about Hankinson’s legacy go to the Orlando Sentinel at the following link:

http://www.orlandosentinel.com/news/os-john-hankinson-environmentalist-death-20170306-story.html

Another interesting article:

https://flaglerlive.com/105435/john-hankinson-jr/

History Revealed: Profile of an Historic Waldo Home and its Inhabitants, Part I

History Revealed: Profile of an Historic Waldo Home and its Inhabitants, Part I

A special guest blog from Ellie Floyd, Waldo, FL

 

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The Seigler-Kinzer house in Waldo, FL

It sits high on Cracker Hill, an imposing edifice beckoning the visitor to discover its secrets… at least, that’s how I felt upon seeing our home, the Seigler-Kinzer house, for the first time. It is only a block from State Road 24, but is shielded by the old Seay bungalow and its massive, sprawling oak across a limerock road. Just beyond our backyard, the old Granger house and its tree canopy provide a picturesque borrowed landscape.

The frame vernacular-style dwelling began as a simple gable-front shape, two rooms deep. A western addition transformed it into a gable-front-and-wing, though it has an irregular plan due to later additions on the south side. Much of the original cypress drop-siding remains on the exterior of this traditionally white house, while decorative corbels under the eaves of the old shingle and tin roof give it a Folk-Victorian feel. The wraparound front porch has undergone several alterations, and as the ceiling paint begins to shed its most recent layer, the “haint blue” underneath is being revealed. In the southern tradition, that shade was thought to ward off spirits.

Andrew and I may be only the third family group to own this house in Sparkman’s Addition during its 120+-year history, having purchased the nearly half-acre lot from the Womeldurf family two years ago. We are undertaking a part renovation/part restoration of the old house, which is recorded in the Florida Master Site File as an architecturally significant structure for the town of Waldo. This project has been a humbling and eye-opening experience; discovering the lives of those who dwelt in this house while revealing its physical layers gives every board and nail meaning.

The exact date of construction and builder of the house is uncertain. The land the house sits upon was first owned by the Florida Railroad Company before it was transferred, by trustees Soutter and McRae, to the Blakes in 1867. Peter William Washington Sparkman became the landholder in 1871, and owned a grist mill and packing plant near his home in this area. Over the next ten years, the land subsequently passed through the hands of Robert Weeks, Abraham Crosby, and James Sparkman. In 1881, P.W.W. Sparkman reacquired the land; he divided the uniquely-shaped parcel, lying between the Transit and Peninsular Railroads, into multiple lots.

plan-of-sparkmans-additionFrom 1881 to 1884, a section of lots R, S, T, and U in Sparkman’s Addition was owned by Mary Weeks, then Julia Blackstock, and later James Weeks. Our house is on lot U, which was not sold individually until James Weeks deeded it to Lula Seigler for $500 in 1894. He’d sold lots R, S, and T combined for the same price in 1890, which seems to suggest that a structure was already in existence on Lot U when Seigler purchased it. Conversely, her family would own the property for 47 years, a much longer period during which to create a home. Charles Womeldorf, who most recently owned the house, remembers a conversation he had with Lula Seigler’s daughter, Isla: she said she was a young girl when her father, William David Seigler, built the house. At the same time, he recollects seeing an old window on the second floor etched with the year “1870.” This raises the question of whether the house was constructed with materials taken from an older home, or whether the Seiglers simply added onto an existing building. At the very least, we are certain that the rear kitchen addition was built under their ownership, as old boards we exposed in the ceiling there were inscribed: “Mrs. L.D. Seagler, Waldo, Fla.”

Lula A. Deupree and William David Seigler were married in 1885 at the First Baptist Church of Gainesville, having children Isla in 1889 and Harry David in 1891. The family unit lived in the town of Waldo from at least 1891 on, and at some point before moving to the house in Sparkman’s Addition, William had lived in the “J.B. Schuman” house, likely while it was under the ownership of C.K. Dutton. The design of that house, now owned by Mary Baxla, bears similarities to ours.

Lula was born in Ladonia, Texas in 1860 to Elijah Deupree, a dry goods merchant, and his wife, Harriet. The Deuprees lived for a time in Mississippi before moving to Gainesville in 1878. After Elijah’s death in 1896, Harriet joined her daughter Lula’s new family in their Cracker Hill home; she lived here with them until her death in 1920.

the-eden-of-the-south-seigler-phifer-ad-1William, or W.D., was born in 1857 in Florida, his family being settled in Putnam County by 1860. His parents, Marshal Seigler and Permelia Ellen Johnson, hailed from South Carolina.  Marshal, who would later become a co-founder of the Etoniah Canal and Drainage Company, began his career as a general merchant in Waldo. His business was called Seigler & Johnson, his partner likely his brother-in-law. He notably employed William Baxter Phifer, who later opened his own store in Waldo with Marshal’s son, W.D. In 1882, the young merchants sold that business and opened Seigler & Phifer in Gainesville. Their ad appeared in the 1883 publication, The Eden of the South. At the end of that year, they closed their Gainesville store and began a new venture in Rochelle. How long they remained partners is unclear. Phifer eventually went into business with his brothers, and together they opened the Phifer State Bank.

W.D. ultimately became a general merchant in his own right. His Waldo store purveyed, among other goods; boots, fashions, paints, fertilizer, and groceries like Ballard’s Obelisk flour. The Gainesville Daily Sun of 1905 called him “one of the oldest established and most successful merchants of Waldo.” He was a Mason, as well as an early member of the Odd Fellows, Union Lodge, No. 2.

The Seiglers were much involved in the social events taking place in Waldo just after the turn of the century. For the crystal wedding of the Langs in March 1907, Lula Seigler assisted in receiving the guests, and at the twentieth anniversary of the Grangers on May 4th, her daughter Isla Seigler helped serve the luncheon. A gem of an article appeared in the February 3rd, 1907 issue of the Sun about an “Old Ladies’ Tea Party” given in the home of Mrs. Seigler. The party was comprised of “eleven ladies whose united ages amounted to 760 years.”

The family would be forever changed by what took place on May 14th, 1907. A headline in the Sun read “W.D. Seigler Suddenly Expired,” and the Live Oak Daily Democrat’s front page announced, “Seigler Dropped Dead.” He had experienced heart failure as he was walking along a street in Waldo. The Sun stated: “[His] demise will cause general regret, as deceased was well-known and popular in Waldo.” His funeral was held at the Seigler residence, with ceremonies befitting his status as a Mason. Many attendees paid their respects, including his old business associate, W.B. Phifer.

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Headstone of Ellen Seigler

W.D. Seigler’s death was not the only tragedy Lula Seigler experienced in that decade; they’d had a third child in 1899, Ellen, who died less than a year later, in 1900. Challenging times followed her husband’s passing. After becoming administratrix of his estate, Lula held an auction for the entire stock of Seigler merchandise, though she did end up buying out a good deal of it. On July 25th, 1907, the Sun remarked, “It is not known whether Mrs. Seigler will continue the business or close the same out. The business has always proved a prosperous one, and friends are suggesting that she continue it.” She did continue as a merchant – for how long it is unclear, though the store was in operation through at least 1910.

Isla Seigler was described by the Sun as “an attractive young lady of Waldo.” She was also tall – at 5’10”, she equaled her husband, Lewin Dennis Kinzer, in height. The couple married in 1910 in Duval County. L.D. Kinzer came from Blacksburg, Virginia; he was an engineer on the Seaboard railway, as well as secretary for the Florida division of the Brotherhood of Locomotive Engineers. The Kinzers lived for a time in Tampa before moving back to Waldo in 1920. That year, Isla joined Waldo Chapter No. 120 of the Order of the Eastern Star as a charter member. In 1922, Lula Seigler deeded her home over to Isla, though she herself continued to live there. The registry of Waldo voters in 1921 lists Lula as the proprietor of a hotel, the name and location of which have remained elusive to me; I wonder if it could have been this very house.

Tragically, Isla became a widow at an even younger age than her mother had, when L.D. Kinzer passed away in 1930. He died at home following a heart attack, the same as had befallen W.D. Seigler. The widowed mother and daughter continued on together. Later owner of the house, Charles Womeldorf, grew up directly next door. He recalls that the two women did not socialize much at that time, and remembers, in good humor, being chastised by them to behave quietly while he and his siblings would play ball in the road. Isla did her part for the community during the Depression; she was a special aid worker for the Federal Emergency Relief Administration, and later became the County Sewing Room Supervisor for the WPA.

Property records show that the household was keeping up with the times, as they owned a Dodge sedan by 1929, and according to the 1930 federal census, a radio set. As Andrew and I worked late one night plying rows of nails out of the newly exposed wide-plank pine floors downstairs, we, too, listened to a radio set – only this one was contained within a small cube. The program was discussing FDR’s fireside chats. I imagined that the original owners of those floors might have listened to the real thing on their radio set in that very same room.

Harry Seigler, W.D. and Lula’s second child, became a conductor for the Seaboard railway after attending school for a time in Meridian, MS. After he married Bobbie Myers, they moved into the house on the corner of the next block, at the intersection of what were once called Place Street and old Gainesville Road. That house was, until just recently, owned by the Williams family. Harry was a member of the Brotherhood of Railway Trainmen. He moved with his wife and two surviving children to Tampa in 1931, and died there in 1960. I believe the children of his son, Charles William Seigler, would be the only descendants of W.D. and Lula Seigler alive today.

In 1941, Isla Kinzer entered into an agreement with the Womeldurf family by which they would rent the home and eventually become the property’s new owners.  In 1948, Mrs. James F. (Lillian) Womeldurf was granted the deed to lots U and T (lot T became a part of the Seigler/Kinzer land in 1905).

w-d-and-lula-seigler-headstoneIsla and Lula moved to Gainesville following the Agreement in 1941, and lived in a house on University Avenue across from the Kirby Smith building. Just as her husband’s death made headlines in 1907, news of Lula Seigler’s passing in 1955 appeared on the front page of the Gainesville Sun: “Mrs. Seigler, 94, Taken by Death.” Isla Kinzer moved to Tampa a few years after her mother’s death, and passed away there in 1975. All of the Seiglers and Kinzers, with the exception of Harry and his descendants, are buried in Evergreen Cemetery in Gainesville; Harry and his first wife are interred at Laurel Grove Cemetery in Waldo.

To be continued…

Author’s note: Information was attained from a variety of sources, including but not limited to: personal interviews, deeds, newspaper articles, and records held by the Waldo Historical Society. For details, or if you have additional information, please contact:

akemfloyd@gmail.com.

The 9/11 Museum and September 11th, 2001—A Personal Reflection

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Sign in front of 9/11 Memorial Museum in October, 2013

(My personal reflection follows this story)  

September 11th, 2016 marks 15 years since the terrorist attacks which took the lives of nearly 3,000 people in New York City, Washington and Pennsylvania.  On May 21st, 2014  the 9/11 Memorial Museum opened to the public for the first time.  Those in charge of its design have had to be sensitive to exhibiting artifacts which capture the historical moments of that day in 2001 with the emotions of the families who continue to grieve for their lost loved ones.

The museum sits 70 feet deep beneath what was formerly called “Ground Zero” after the attacks.  Among the 10,000 artifacts are audio and video recordings made that tragic day, including sounds of emergency radio calls and cellphone messages from workers in the Twin Towers calling loved ones.

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View looking into the museum in October before construction was complete

The museum features 23,000 still photos, mangled rescue vehicles and plane parts as well as the last steel column removed during the cleanup.  Various personal artifacts found in the rubble are also on display.  The goal of the privately funded museum is to tell the story of the nearly 3,000 people killed in not only the 2001 attacks but also the 1993 trade center bombing. President Barack Obama along with families and others officially dedicated the museum on Thursday, May 15th, 2014.

 

 

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One of the special fountains built on one of the footprints of the former Twin Towers

The museum is adjacent to the Memorial Plaza where the footprints of the twin towers now feature unique water fountains surrounded by the engraved names of those who died on September 11th when terrorists commandeered United Flight 175 and American Airlines Flight 11 and crashed into the Twin Towers.

 

 

 

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The plaza memorial also includes the names of those who died when American Airlines Flight 77 hit the Pentagon and those who died on United Airlines Flight 93 that crashed in a Shanksville, Pennsylvania field after passengers revolted against the hijackers.  

 

 

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The new Freedom Tower

The new “Freedom Tower” stands next to the Memorial Plaza.  The Freedom Tower, which stands 1,776 feet tall on the site of the former World Trade Center, is the work of the Lower Manhattan Development Corporation.   According to the website, the “Freedom Tower” serves as a beacon of freedom, and demonstrates the resolve of the United States, and the people of New York City.

 

My Personal Reflection

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Donna Green-Townsend and Cameron Taylor

All of the photos featured above I took in October, 2013 when I travelled to New York City to attend the National Edward R. Murrow Awards Ceremony.  I was there to accompany Cameron Taylor, one of my Telecommunication students from the College of Journalism and Communications at the University of Florida, who was being presented a Murrow for a radio feature he had produced on the oyster collapse in Cedar Key, FL.

 

It had been 29 years since I had last visited NYC and I was anxious to see the 9/11 Memorial site.  Even though I was in Florida when the terrorist attacks occurred, the tragedy had definite ramifications all over the country.  The day before the attacks I sent one of my feature reporters, Susie Losco, to Jacksonville to cover President George W. Bush’s “Reading” campaign.  Susie came back telling me how excited she was about getting the opportunity to shake the president’s hand.

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(AP Photo/Doug Mills)

As everyone now knows, the reading campaign was the reason President Bush next visited the Emma E. Booker elementary school in Sarasota where the now infamous photo was taken of his Chief of Staff Andy Card informing him that the country was under attack.

 

 

twin-towersImmediately on that day in 2001 I began to see various emails exploding on my computer from various acquaintances who were concerned about why their flights were forced to land at various airports around the country.  I was particularly interested in talking to the woman who had a cousin who was a flight attendant on one of the flights which ripped through one of the Twin Towers.  Even the mere thought of that was unfathomable.

WTC collapseIt was a very emotional day in the newsroom and around the country as we watched in horror as the towers collapsed on live television.  The University of Florida and other state facilities closed early for security purposes given our current governor, Jeb Bush, was the president’s brother.

There were no guidebooks on how to go about covering such a tragic event that affected American civilians on our home soil.  Most of us just went on autopilot and reached out to talk to not only those who had relatives in NYC, but also to blood centers and others involved in forensic, medical and law enforcement triage.

Donna in front of World Trade Center Twin Towers 1984
Donna in front of World Trade Center Twin Towers 1984

Throughout the day, as additional news reports came through about the flight that crashed into the Pentagon and Flight 93 that crashed in Pennsylvania when the passengers took over the hijackers, I couldn’t help but reflect  back to the day I first saw the Twin Towers in June of 1984 and literally stood on top of the North Tower.  I was visiting with a former colleague who lived in Connecticut, Carmen Bayles and her sister Jane. Carmen had planned a 14-hour walk around Manhattan that began near the Brooklyn Bridge and included a visit to Wall Street.

 

World Trade Center Observation Deck ticket 1984
1984 WTC Observation Deck ticket

Donna on top of World Trade Center Twin Towers 1984 in New YorkI can still remember how large the elevators were that took us up to the 106th and 107th floors of the North Tower to a restaurant called “Windows On The World.”  But the view from the restaurant didn’t compare to how it looked and felt to go out on the very top of the building on the observation deck.  I can still recall how windy it was up there and how spectacular the view of the city was from that vantage point. It’s an eerie feeling knowing that the spot where I stood looking out over the Hudson River and NYC no longer exists.

 

The events of 9/11 also brought back memories of when I was a young journalist at the University of Missouri in Columbia in the late 1970s.  I had a strong desire to follow in the footsteps of many of my student counterparts who were from the Northeast.  I remember the semester everyone was applying for internships for the summer while attending the School of Journalism at MU.  Many were heading to NYC.  I had never been there and thought such an internship would be great for my resume.  But a certain phone call changed all that.

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Donna with “Mr. CBS” Dave Dugan at MU

My advisor just happened to be Dave Dugan, “Mr. CBS” himself.  Dave had worked for more than 25 years for CBS both in radio and television.  I learned through longtime CBS network anchor Dan Rather’s book, “The Camera Never Blinks,” that Dave Dugan actually trained Dan on his first day working for CBS, a day when a plane crashed into Jamaica Bay. That’s another story for another day.  Needless to say, when Dave Dugan talked, I listened.  On this particular morning back in 1978 I received a call from Dave who said I needed to come to his office.  I went right away.  It was then he told me he had a dream about me the night before in which he says I was assaulted in the bus terminal in NYC and he just couldn’t allow me to go there.  My internship desire to go to the “Big Apple” turned into an internship at KWIX-KRES radio in Moberly, MO instead.  I say all that because it adds even more to the emotions I felt when I finally made my first visit to NYC in 1984.  I recently learned that Dave Dugan passed away earlier this year.  Before he died his family told him of my memories of his dream and he still remembered it.

2013-10-14_13-38-57_45In October of 2013, 29 years after my first visit to NYC, the only thing I wanted to do outside of attending the Murrow Awards was visit the 9/11 Memorial.  It’s hard to describe how it felt to touch the names of those engraved around the fountains in the WTC footprints knowing the horror they all must have felt on that day.  I wish the museum had been open that October, but having experienced  9/11 as a reporter in 2001 it isn’t really necessary for me to hear the audio or see the video that’s being shown there because I saw it and heard it on the actual day in the newsroom at WUFT.

2013-10-14_13-31-30_543The tragedy of 9/11 will forever be etched in my memory just as the tragedy of Pearl Harbor was etched in the memory of my parents.  My dad, a former marine, had always wanted to visit the Pearl Harbor Memorial in Hawaii when he retired.  Sadly, he died at the young age of 52 before he could make that trip.  I’m glad that I had the opportunity to go back to NYC before my retirement.  It made me think of my dad.

2013-10-14_13-05-45_348I hope the museum and the September 11th Memorial Site will help future generations to realize that “freedom is not free.”

 

 

 

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(from left to right) Katiana Krawchenko, Donna Green-Townsend, Cameron Taylor and Miles Doran

One more little personal thought…. after sharing the dream of “Mr. CBS” Dave Dugan earlier in the post, I thought it was a bit ironic that on my last trip to NYC I actually visited the CBS network studios.  Having won an Edward R. Murrow Award myself in 2000, it was great to be standing next to two other Murrow Award winners, Miles Doran and Cameron Taylor, both UF grads.  Miles currently works for CBS as does  UF grad Katiana Krawchenko (pictured to the left).  On that day it felt as if I had come full-circle.  I think that’s a very good thing.

BLOG: “I Love To Sing”

dgt train tracksPerforming has been a personal passion for me since I was a young girl.  Though it wasn’t something I pursued professionally, singing and playing has been a fun part of my life and just naturally comes from being raised in a musical family.  My dad, Sterling Green, taught me my first few guitar chords when I was around the age of 10 or 11 and let me plunk around on an old electric guitar.   I always loved to sing, though I didn’t purchase my own guitar until after college.  My two older brothers Dan and Sterling both learned to play guitar as well and my younger brother Stan learned to keep rhythm on a snare drum while my mom added her part by playing a comb.

On weekends in the 60’s and 70’s we’d get together with my dad’s brother Ralph who played guitar and sang and our Uncle Forest who played the fiddle and we’d spend hours and hours making some great music together.  Those were special times.  Sadly, both my dad and his brother passed away in 1982 only five weeks apart from heart problems, but what they taught us will live on in our memories forever.

Lee Mace's Ozark OpryIn the early years, whenever my mom could, she’d sign my brothers and me up for various talent shows around our small town of Montgomery City in Missouri.  I have to laugh when I think about taking 4th place at the “Old Settlers Picnic” in nearby New Florence, MO for singing “Worms.”  I think I won a whole $2.00.  My brothers fared much better winning 2nd with their version of “Wildwood Flower.”  Later we had the opportunity to play on stage with some of the members of Lee Mace’s Ozark Opry in a talent show.  I was only in 8th grade and sang a rather adult song, “Charlie’s Shoes.”  We didn’t win, but it was a great experience for all of us.

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Though that was a long time ago, my family’s love for music has been passed down to our children.  My brothers Sterling and his son James, Dan and his son Daniel and Stan’s son Sam all play guitar.  My own son Lee plays banjo and guitar and my daughter Jessie loves to sing.  (My daughter Ellie used to play guitar and I hope will take it up again one day).

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Pat & Dorsey Lee Townsend, Sr. in the 1940s.

My husband Lee grew up playing music as well following in the footsteps of his dad, Dorsey Lee Townsend, Sr.   It’s been said he spent four decades playing around North Central Florida with his brother Jesse and even Chubby Wise.  Music is just good for the soul.

In 1981 and 1982 while working as the News Director for KHCC-FM in Hutchinson, KS I had the opportunity to conduct interviews with all of the musicians and top contestants of the Walnut Valley Festival in Winfield, KS.  Our station then produced a 13-part series of music programs for national distribution on public radio two years in a row.  The experience of meeting such legends as Doc Watson, Norman Blake, Bryan Bowers, Dave Grisman, Tim O’Brien, Sam Bush and Bela Flek was all it took for me to be renewed with musical energy.  

 

 

Florida's Black Hat Troubadour
Florida’s Black Hat Troubadour

In 1983 I moved to Florida to begin work as a news producer for WUFT-FM.  Less than two years later I had the opportunity to meet Florida’s Black Hat Troubadour, Will McLean.  I had learned one of his most famous songs, “Hold Back The Waters,” while producing the “Walnut Valley Series.” When he realized I knew his song he asked me to sing it with him at his November, 1985 concert at the historic Thomas Center in Gainesville.  That concert eventually became a CD produced by WUFT.  Here is the introduction to the song that night in 1985

and here’s the recording of Will McLean, Murphy Henry and me singing “Hold Back The Waters.”

Just a few years later I bought a nicer guitar and began to go to music jams in the Gainesville area.  

Train Wreck front cover editedOne Christmas season when my mother and I were discussing Christmas presents she told me not to get her anything that cost a lot as she knew I was struggling to pay for three children in daycare.  I rounded up some of my favorite music buddies and asked if they’d consider getting together to produce a CD for my mom.  I had just met some of these guys, but they all said yes.  With the help of WUFT-FM ‘s (former) Program Director Bill Beckett we gathered at Bill’s home and recorded around 11 tracks for what became known as “Train Wreck.”  Bill mixed as he recorded while we were all gathered around microphones in a large circle in his living room.  The gathering included  David Cook on piano, Art Crummer on dobro, Dave McBrady on banjo, Dan Peterson on bass, Ned Stewart on guitar and Ray Valla on mandolin.  We’d practice the song once, maybe twice, and walla….we did it for real.  It was an amazing night.  Four more tracks were recorded on a separate night, including two songs written by my friend Priscilla Bingham and with the additional help of Ron Bowman on fiddle.  Here are the tracks on the CD:

Track 1- Intro and Wreck of the ‘ole 97

Track 2- Blue Ridge Mountain Blues

Track 3- Goodbye Little Darlin’

Track 4- Blue Kentucky Girl

Track 5- Don’t Come Cryin’ To Me

Track 6- Shady Grove

Track 7- Cryin’ My Heart Out Over You

Track 8- Sadie

Track 9- No One Will Ever Know

Track 10- Rough and Rocky

Track 11- Down South

Track 12- Peach Pickin’ Time in Georgia

Track 13- I Wouldn’t Change You If I Could

Track 14-Old Fashioned Love

Track 15- From Loving You

My mother treasured that CD, especially when she went through four years of dementia in a nursing home.  Music helped to soothe her and it helped her to remember.  It’s so interesting how dementia patients can remember lyrics despite memory loss.

Following the recording of the first Train Wreck CD I began to do more live performances at folk festivals and church events.  See some of the videos below:

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Performing Highway of Sorrow with Art Crummer on dobro and Lynn Hall on banjo at a Sunday Sampler in Dunnellon, FL in the spring of 2000

Someday We’ll Meet Again Sweetheart:

“Where Could I Go”

Donna, Jessie and Lee Townsend singing Never Grow Old at the Homecoming services for the Providence United Methodist Church in Windsor, FL on October 26, 2014

Donna, Jessie and Lee Townsend performing I’ll Fly Away at the Homecoming services for the Providence United Methodist Church in Windsor, FL on October 26, 2014

Singing Little White Church at the Homecoming Services for the Providence United Methodist Church in Windsor, FL on October 26, 2014

Singing Where The Soul of Man Never Dies at the Homecoming Services for the Providence United Methodist Church in Windsor, FL on October 26, 2014

 

The following music tracks are some of my favorite live performance recordings:

 

ae20By The Mark performed at the Providence United Methodist Church in Windsor, FL in October 2012 with Lee Townsend on guitar and vocals and Cedric Forson on vocals

 

 

Performing at the Will McLean Folk Festival in 2001

Conch Island performed at the Will McLean Folk Festival in 2001 with Art Crummer on guitar

 

Donna performing with Train Wreck in 2000 at the Will McLean Folk Festival (photo by Bill Marder)

Hot Buttered Rum performed at the Will McLean Folk Festival in 2001 with Art Crummer on dobro, Dave Cook on guitar, Annie McPherson on mandolin and Dennis Devine on bass

 

Performing in August, WV at Elkins College in 2000

I’m Goin’ Back To the Old Home performed at the Augusta Heritage Center in Elkins, WV in August, 2000

 

DGT-Mississippi You’re On My Mind sung around a campfire at White Springs during the FL Folk Festival in 1999

 

 

 

Lee performing with the Orange and Bluegrass Band in Waldo

Never Grow Old performed with my son Lee on banjo

 

 

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“Angel Band and Old Rugged Cross” Medley performed at the New Cross Creek Baptist Church at the April, 2013 Homecoming Sing

“I Saw The Light and I’lly Fly Away” medley performed at the New Cross Creek Baptist Church on October 14th, 2012

Mississippi You’re On My Mind

Performing “Never Grow Old” with son Lee and daughter Jessie at the Paran Baptist Church Gospel Sing on Saturday, April 5th, 2014

“Where The Soul of Man Never Dies” performed by Donna and Lee Townsend at the New Cross Creek Baptist Church at the April, 2013 Homecoming Sing