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SAMUEL PROCTOR ORAL HISTORY PROGRAM at
the University of Florida.
St. Lucie Tape #Ab/S.4 f/ 7/"
Dave Jones /
May 18, 1967
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I don't think I've been better introduced by a-'gentleman than Mr.
Elliot. Mr. Hellier. It's catching it way up. You've
got the volume set way up on it. As Mr. Hellier explained to you, we
do intend to make another trip across across the grave. We intend to
do that not from coast to coast but from coast to coast and from north
to south. Now some may ask the question why would anyone want to make
a trip across the everglades. Well I guess we have our reason and that
reason we feel is important. As I explained to the Audobon Society
some week ago it is to capture in this reality and in this beauty the
last final strand of what is left in Florida. The nature land, the natural
beauty the natural state of God's creation. We intend to do this, I'd
like to make this brief, in order to capture for the posterities of our
magnificent state the pictures the beauty, the panorama that exists
only here. Here and only here. In ten years this panorama and this
beauty will no longer exist because of man's surges, because of the
vulture, agriculture, that is ravaging, pillaging, destroying and
destructing the natural land of Florida. I don't think that I need
to go into this too deep. You can see the effects of what's happening
today. what has been happening for the last sixty days. The drought.
Floridians have been warned of this fifty years ago. Exactly what
you're undergoing today. The water problem. The diminishing game. The
diminishing wilderness, the diminishing natural beauty. They did not
heed to these warnings. If steps are not taken within the next five
years to alleviate this problem there will be no need to take any
steps. They cannot be alleviated. Agriculture has cut canals. ditches,
St. Lucie Tape #la1-^-
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they have bursted through the bedrock of Florida. Their natural
surface water is diminishing. It's gone. Without that natural surface
water Florida cannot exist. It will become a desert.At the moment they're
contemplating as I said, alleviating the problem by drilling deep water
wells. This would not alleviate the problem. It will only afford and supply
water to the agriculture enterprises and agriculture industries that
has removed the surface water. It will not replace the water that the
wild life and the natural land need upon which they thrive. I know
that agriculture is a necessity the same as you. But I am alwo wise
enough in my way to know that by destruction of the natural land,
of the nature itself that I nor you nor agriculture can survive here.
Deep water wells, water wells, the draining of Lake Ockeechobee will
be catastrophe. It will be the grand finale in the destruction of the
last final strand we have, the Everglades. They
from Lake Ockeechobee in the time when it is full the water
that we need and replace it when it is not. Where are they going to
get this water to replace it when it is not? The deep water wells
then, certainly, why are they not getting the water they need at this
moment from deep water wells rather than drain Lake Ockeechobee? I can
tell you why. Because of the expense it would require at this moment
to drill those wells hoping that tomorrow the rains will come and alleviate
this problem. They say, well, build the dikes higher and the levies
higher. Butthis will not happen. They will build them higher, but the
natural rainfall will not fill it. It never has and it is not
reasonable to believe that it wl "ever. Thus our state, our natural
state is being destroyed, slowly but surely and methodically. I say
St. Lucie Tape #1s/4
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methodically yet unmethodically. They don't intend to do it but they
are doing it. And the road to a very well known place is paved with good
intentions. In Florida is fast becoming a desert. It is in hopes that
I can capture within the next five years of my life, I've given twfty
of it, thus)' to study to capture)to understand the state in which I
live. I carry on a love affair with this state. Thirty five years
I've carried on that love affair. I know that the day is coming in
Florida when my posterities will go to a museum to see
possum. racoon. Sounds ridiculous, absurd, but it's true. But I
hope to capture it in some state so that they may view it leisurely in
some state a hundred years from now. But it really was. the magnificence
of it, the beauty of it, the splendor of it. This is my purpose and
my intent. And I will succeed. Beyond that I have no other reason.
I'm not an intrpenuer. I don't look to make money from this trip.
It's not my interest. Only to capture the beauty, the maginificence,
as I said the panorama that is Florida, that has been Florida. Much
of it, many of you here tonight remember it's not the same. I wish to
capture it before the rest is destroyed. Ten years will finish it now.
I'd like to conclude there on that part not only do I have an interest in
the conservation in the wildlife preservation standpoint, also an interest
historically. And I have very, there are many days in which to deliver
a message to each of you here. I see familiar faces among you. I feel
somewhat humiliated, if you'll pardon the use of that word, to stand
here so much younger and so much having to live so much less than so
many here. But htere is a message I wotld like to deliver to each of
you tonight. I feel is a very important message. Pardon me, I'll have
St. Lucie Tape #aS/4^
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to get these old scribble notes out. I would like each one of you
here tonight to here that message and ponder it seriously in your
spare time.
History is a song. In Florida's past, mesmerizing melody of
many strains. Each of you have not ventured along the shore of
yesteryears to reminise and splash a bit tide of time,
retracing your footprints in the sands of your tracked and bygone days
pausing to gather the driftwood of memories scattered along the way.
Ours is a song of many years. And in reflection one can capture
only by imagination the tinkle of ___ and ____, the
___________ ,sounding hooves of Jackson's calvary, the ring
of cyprus- the rumble of tom toms, the war drum thunder and the
chilling war cries of the Seminoles. Yet, less given to imagination
none the less of intrigue are the strains of a more recent an realistic:
part of the melody of our history. It is that part that began with you.
The bridge that links the fading symphony of yesteryears is a minuet
of today. You wrote the song and you should find among it all familiar
notes. Can you hear the clink of a wood stove lid? Or
Sthe crack of a mule skinner raw hide whip, or the creak of a
wagon wheel. Remember the wack of a timber ax and the split of a
Sthe call of a loon, a gun, or a riverboat
along the way. Can you still hearas though it were near, the drumming
of fishermen's oars, the thump of corks on the stern along a
peaceful shore. All were sounds of the living from history
heard in a dancer's song and the hiss of an iron horse. But a
song unsung is a song unheard and soon forgotten indeed. We should not
St. Lucie Tape #3a /a-
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mute the melody by failing to sing the lead that each of you wrote.
note no matter how small the part. Or keep it locked in
a memory vault selfishly in your heart. The song is you every note,
every sound. Sing it out I say. With the song of today like one
never ending round that we in the wake of tomorrow may hear it, know
it and carry it on. This song is you. Sing it loudly. Sing it
proudly lest it be forgotten. Thank you ladies and gentlemen.
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