The Greatest Fire in Fort Myers

It Was Called The Greatest Fire In Fort Myers

The year was 1903, and the town of Fort Myers had just established a volunteer fire department only two years prior, when on Friday morning of October 16, flames were seen coming out of a building owned by Carl F. Roberts. In addition to battling the fire, the volunteers were up against strong winds and faulty equipment. As the firemen were armed with chemical extinguishers and fighting the blaze at ground level, other citizens were on rooftops beating burning shingles with brooms. Some men battled the inferno so closely that “their flesh was blistered.”

Fighting The Fire
A bucket brigade was formed by women and children, but did little to calm the raging fire that was spreading quickly. The local paper reported how “the entire town was alarmed and the people at once turned themselves into fire fighters – men, boys, women and children, all realized the gravity of the situation and worked heroically to save the town.”

The intensity of the fire and brisk winds was a major difficulty; as was the hook and ladder engine. A faulty valve hampered the efforts of the firemen to get a steady stream of water onto the blaze. Before losing all hope of saving the town, the firefighters succeeded in getting a hand pumper, known as an “Old Andrew Jackson,” working and got the fire under control. As the men grew tired, the women who had gathered in the streets took over. One report was how “Mrs. Alice Tooke saw the Hopson livery stable on fire, pulled off her shoes, climbed to the roof and put out the fire.” Luckily, the wind had also died down.

The Roberts Building, which included an undertaking establishment, a cabinet shop, a Chinese laundry facility, and housed the newly organized Fort Myers Volunteer Fire Department was a total loss. Upstairs was the home of Frank Kellow and his family, and they also lost everything. It was never known what exactly caused the fire, but Roberts stated it was “caused by rats carrying matches into their nests, and lighting one.” Others reasoned it was ignited by a defective flue in the Roberts Building.

Losses to the town and its citizens were: Carl Roberts lost his building, stock, and house; Mrs. M. N. Verner, a building; Col. J. S. Williams, stock; Harvie Heitman, livery stable and two small buildings; Edward Evans, building and stock; Sam Kee, Chinese laundry store; Charles Braman, fruit; C. A. McDougald, wagons and buggies; Captain Robert Lilly, trees and fruit; Frank Carson, fruit; Jas. Hendry, trees; and the town lost telegraph, telephone, and electric service. The total loss was estimated at $7,000 ($165,000 today). Added to the estimate was the value of stock looted during the disastrous event.

The fire department also lost much of their equipment, including hooks, axes, ladders, buckets, and even their truck. Fortunately, the residences of Taff Langford and Charles Braman; the Gilliam Store and Hopson’s Livery Stable only suffered minor damaged from the fire.

From The Bad Comes The Good 
A month later the volunteers held a meeting and elected C. F. Cates as Fire Chief. He easily convinced the city council to purchase a four-cylinder No. 6 Waterous gasoline fire engine and one-thousand feet of 2.5 inch hose. A few years later the department would also earn $10 for each fire extinguished and any member injured in the line of duty would receive $1 to $2 a day, not exceeding ten days.

In less than two weeks after the devastating fire, Roberts built a new barn, carriage house, temporary office, and a laundry building for Sam Kee. He also began construction on a two-story building, in which the bottom half would be used for a new fire station. Heitman and other business owners also rebuilt, and First Street began to thrive once again.

Unfortunately for Roberts, he suffered property loss two more times from fire, April 1907 and April 1910.

Rum Runners Caught Off The Coast of Sanibel

Rum Runners Caught Off The Coast of Sanibel

Prohibition was in effect for over a year and a half when on the evening of August 2, 1921, Sheriff Frank Tippins observed a boat plying between Sanibel and Punta Rassa. On a hunch, he approached the vessel and boarded. Spotting demijohns of liquor, Tippins bargained with the captain and purchased some Cuban rum for $25, then placed him under arrest. “Captain and Crew of Cuban Smack Caught in Big Liquor Raid” was the headline in the morning paper.

Sensational Raid

In what the paper deemed “a sensational raid,” Sheriff Tippins and his son, Deputy Sheriff Frank Tippins, Jr., “arrested the captain and the four members of the crew of a Cuban smack, confiscated three demijohns of liquor and the smack itself, and landed the five men in jail.”

The Tippins had been en route to Sanibel to make an arrest when their suspicions were aroused seeing a Spanish fishing smack. As the elder Tippins began to apprehend the captain, “he became crazed and attacked the sheriff, fighting like a mad man,” reported the paper. “It required a physical argument, in which Sheriff Tippins came out victorious, to convince the captain that he was up against the real thing.”

During the scuffle, Tippins hollered for his son to shoot, but the younger Tippins refrained for fear of injuring his father.

None of the crew spoke English, and the reporter noted their outward show. He wrote he was “struck with the pirate appearance of the crew, barefoot, two of the crew having heads bandaged up and one with a badly discolored eye. They are of the same mold and cast as the pirates in days of old, and human life is as nothing to them.”

The following morning, armed with a search warrant, the sheriff returned to the boat and discovered two more demijohns of liquor and a fourth crew member. He immediately arrested the deckhand and confiscated the remaining liquor.

Legal Matters & Years of Trying

After going through legal procedures in the circuit court, the vessel was to be sold and the money invested in the Fines and Forfeiture Fund used for the prosecution of criminal matters.

The captain of the smack, Antonio Lopez, was found guilty and fined $500 ($6,500 in 2014) for “attempting to bring liquor into the county.” Crew members were fined the same amount.

Three weeks later, Judge George W. Whitehurst released the smack back to the company that owned it. The president of the company convinced the judge that “the captain had only four demijohns of rum aboard and this without the knowledge or consent of the owners.”

Boarding smacks and trying to break up rum runners was not new to Tippins. For several years he attempted to collect evidence and arrest runners, including one time posing as a fisherman offering to trade mullet for Cuban rum, which was met with no success.

Inspections Causing Troubles

An article that appeared on the front page of the paper alongside the news of the Cuban smack being released was, “’Booze Ships’ Stories Cause Many Troubles For Tarry Old Salts.” It reported how the “fisher folk [are] disturbed by ceaseless activity of the rum sleuths,” and all the “official and unofficial” inspections taking place.

Other fishermen said as soon as you drop a hook in the water they whisper, “You’re a rum runner.”

By the time prohibition ended in 1933, Tippins had become a U. S. Marshall and fishermen were again enjoying their trade without any hassle from law enforcement.

It Was Like A Scene From A Movie

It Was Like A Scene From A Movie

In late July 1958, beach goers and visitors witnessed a police chase, a shoot out, a hostage situation, and two Texan desperadoes apprehended. What seemed like a scene right out of a Hollywood blockbuster was all to real for those involved.

Whitsel and Franks

George W. Whitsel, 31, and Alton C. Franks, 25, escaped from Huntsville State Prison, stole a car, and fled to Fort Myers Beach where they kept a low profile hiding out in a motel. Their mistake was speeding through the quiet beach community. As they sped past Deputy Inlo Swope, he ordered them to halt, to which they ignored, but did not know the road they were on circled back and the second time they past Swope, he gave chase.

As Swope gave pursue to the 1958 Oldsmobile with Louisiana plates, the gunman opened fire on him. Swope gave chase going over the wooden bridge onto San Carlos Blvd., returning fire on the armed escapees.

Whitsel, a habitual criminal, was serving a life sentence; Franks was nabbed during a burglary and was serving a 16 year sentence, when the duo escaped.

The escapees and Swope kept exchanging fire as they sped along Beach Road onto McGregor Blvd. The chase turned onto Punta Rassa Road after the criminals hit the guy wire on a pole, spinning their vehicle around. At Cove Road, they stopped and Swope pulled up alongside them. Whitsel, now armed with a .12 gauge shotgun shot off a few rounds, luckily for the deputy, his rolled up window deflected the bullets.

Swope climbed out of his vehicle, emptied his service revolver and another pistol without hitting either fugitive. The two prisoners ran down Thornton Road into a residential area where they brazenly broke into the McCormick home.

Hostages

Bloodhounds led the police to the McCormick residence. David McCormick, and his wife, Jo Ann, who was six months pregnant, were busy painting the interior of their new house when the convicts broke in. The expecting couple were tied up and held at gun point, as police blocked off Thornton Blvd.

Authorities, including all city, state, and county law enforcement officers, FBI, and the fire department quickly surrounded the property. Deputy Nick Kelley approached the house and McCormick came to the door stating everything is all right. Later, Kelley reported “McCormick was white as a sheet and I knew something was wrong.”

Sheriff Flanders Thompson, using a bullhorn commanded “Now hear this! Come out of the house with your hands up! No harm will come to you. You are surrounded.” FBI agent George Gatins suggested using tear gas, but this plan was scrapped for fear that the gas shells might catch the house on fire.

At 2 O’clock as the standoff continued, the paper reported “minutes passed tensely.” Agent Gatins warned them that they had five minutes to come out.

The escapees and their hostages made their way out, slowly to the driveway and got in the McCormicks blue and white Ford. As the car backed out, Jo Ann was heard screaming, “Please, God, don’t shoot! They’ll kill us if you do!”

One of the convicts hollered, “Let us through or we’ll kill them!”

Then an exchange of rapid gun fire ensued. It was reported that “Chief Deputy J. Howard Greer shot the left front tire flat. Answering fire came from Franks, who fired four times with a .22 revolver. Quick as a wink, Dickens opened up on the car with a submachine gun, blasting four neat holes in the windshield. Other officers fired also. Bullets whined past the car and nicked cars on the opposite roadblock but no one was hit except Whitsel. His wound was a superficial arm wound.”

When the gunfire came to a halt, the convicts were ordered to throw out their weapons consisting of a .22 revolver, .32 automatic, and a shotgun. With their hands in the air, they crawled out of the car and layed on the ground where they were frisked and handcuffed.

Aftermath

Jo Ann came out of the car “shaken and white with nervous relief, sobbed, ‘I’m all right. I’m all right.’” David on the other hand had a different mindset, “Shoot both the — of — right now,” he told the authorities.

As one of the escaped prisoners was being placed in the back of the patrol car, he said to David, “tell your wife we’re sorry.”

The McCormicks were taken to the hospital as a precautionary measure and given a sedative to relive their nervous condition. Deputy Swope also had small lacerations from gunshot pellets and flying glass from his windshield.

The police traced the tags on the Oldsmobile the criminals stole to a John T. White of Shreveport, Louisiana. It turned out that the two prisoners had not only stolen the Olds, but the license plate was also stolen, as White did not own an Olds, he owned a Nash to which the plate was registered.

A few days following the shootout, the car driven by Swope was put on display for the public to view. “One bullet remained in the windshield trim and scores of holes are to be seen in the sides of the car and the windows.”

The 1906 Island Murder

The 1906 Island Murder

One hundred and nine years ago, island residents were anxiously waiting for the judgment of Andrew J. Chauncey. With no modern forms of communication, they were forced to wait for the delivery of their weekly newspaper, or listen to opinions and rumors at local hangouts. Regardless of how they followed the outcome of State vs. Chauncey, for the small island, it was a trial of the century for their community.

Chauncey, a 54-year-old unemployed carpenter with a wife and six young girls was on trial for the December 6, 1906, murder of John Barry Bart Daniels. The Lee County community was still recovering from the July 1906 killing of Robert “Bobby” Carson by Jasper Edwards in Fort Myers, but this murder happened on Sanibel, which sometimes seemed a world away from the main land.

The Tragic Death of John B. Daniels

John Daniels was born in Florida in September 1872. On April 6, 1897, he married Lucy Hayes Reed, affectionately known as “Miss Lucy.” Her father was William H. Reed, a sea captain who served in the Navy during the Civil War and a widower who moved his family from Deer Isle, Maine to Sanibel in 1868 when Miss Lucy was all of 16. Her brother, William S. Reed, was postmaster for the island from 1894 to 1938.

In a ceremony performed by George Cooper, Justice of the Peace, the couple exchanged vows at her father’s place, with all of her friends wishing “the change to be one of increased happiness.” The couple had three children: Bertha (1898), William Haskell (1901), and John Barry (1903). Daniels worked as a farmer, than later became a truck driver. Sadly, life on the island would come to a sudden and horrific end for the 34-year-old and his family.

On the afternoon of December 6, 1906, Daniels went to Harry Bailey’s house where Chauncey was doing some work. Daniels invited him to come back to his place for dinner. Although Chauncey was not interested, Daniels insisted. During their travels back to Daniels house, they ran into William Harrison, and the three men shared some whiskey, as Harrison would later testify, “they both seemed to be friendly toward each other, but they were drinking.”

Once back at Daniels place, Chauncey put his shotgun by the barn, and fixed a broken shaft on a wagon wheel. The two men then sat on the front porch when Chauncey claims that he noticed Daniels was getting mad. As Chauncey began to leave, Daniels followed him, insisting he stay for dinner. The two men picked up their pace toward the barn where Chauncey picked up his rifle.

As Chauncey turned, he aimed the gun at Daniels’ chest. According to Chauncey, Daniels said, “You son-of-a-bitch, if you shoot me with that gun I’ll kill you.” To which he replied, “You call me a son-of-a-bitch and I will kill you.” With that he pulled the trigger.

Daniels dropped to the ground just as his wife came running from the house. Standing over his body, Chauncey said, “You see what I can do?” Miss Lucy, the only witness later testified, “I went to Mr. Daniels and raising his head kissed him when Mr. Chauncey reloaded his gun and said, ‘if you say a word I will kill you too.’ Mr. Chauncey made threat to kill me and when I begged him to spare me and started to go to Mr. Harrison’s, our nearest neighbor, he went along with me talking hold of my arm.”

Harrison reported “I heard the report of a gun but thought at the time the gun was in direction of Bayou. In few minutes, Mrs. Daniels came in direction of my house screaming and saying ‘Oh! He has killed my husband.’”

 John B. Daniels died from the gunshot and was buried in the Sanibel Cemetery.

The Court Rules

Immediately, Chauncey turned himself in to Harrison, who took him to Fort Myers and placed him in jail. Coroner Thomas Evans held an inquest, and the following day, along with Dr. Arthur P. Hunter, John I. Sellers, and a jury consisting of S. Smith, G. Willis, A. Rylander, Samuel Pool, Victor Santina, and L. Parker, made their way to the island. Upon viewing the body, they rendered the following verdict:

“That A. J. Chauncey did feloniously [sic] and with malice aforethought shoot and kill said J. B. Daniels with [a] single-barrel breech-loading shot gun, loaded with power and leaden bullets, and we, the jurors, find said A. J. Chauncey guilty of murder in the first degree.”

The coroner’s report was that Chauncey “emptied the entire charge of No. 6 shot into Daniels’ upper left breast, tearing an oblong hole, three inches in its long diameter and two inches in its smaller diameter, and effecting instant death.”

The Thursday, December 13, edition of the newspaper ran the headline: J. B. Daniels Murdered, Sanibel Island the Scene of a Tragedy. The article went into detail on how there was no animosity between the gentlemen, and how Chauncey feared for his life as Daniels became angry.

Two weeks following the death of her husband, Lucy Daniels, put out the following note. “[I] express my heartfelt appreciation and thanks to the friends who so unselfishly came to my assistance, and extended many kindnesses and favors through the ordeal I have passed. I can only say that their goodness has helped me appreciate such friends and neighbors to the fullest extent.”

On March 1, 1907, the trial for Andrew J. Chauncey was held, with the jury retiring at 9 p.m. Chauncey claimed that he “feared Daniels was going to kill him” and he acted in self-defense. His defense council was made up of Louis Hendry, Frank C. Alderman, and John Burton. Attorney Hon. Hurbert S. Phillips represented the State as prosecutor. Jurors, Joel Browning, James Carter, John Owens, Hugh Langford, W. L. Hopson, William Walker, Frank Kellow, James Ford, A. S. Skinner, Earnest Frantz, John Goldsby, and Avery Tyre deliberated for three hours and returned a verdict of manslaughter. Chauncey was sentenced to five years of hard labor in the State Penitentiary. The local headline ran: Chauncey Gets Off With Five Years.

The sentence was immediately appealed and reviewed by the Supreme Court. In June 1907 the court ruled “We have given the evidence our mutual consideration and are of the opinion that it is amply sufficient to support the verdict.” He went on to serve his five-year sentence.

Who Was Andrew J. Chauncey?

Andrew Jackson Chauncey was a Florida native, born in Taylor County on December 18, 1852, son of Jacob and Matilda Martha Jones Chauncey. At the young age of 12, he joined in the Civil War with his father under the State and County Militia known as Detail Scouts.

He stated later when applying for his pension:

I served with and accompanied my father, Jacob Chauncey, throughout the war. I was a small boy when the war started. My father served as detail scout from Waukeenah, Jefferson County, in Leon Madison and Lafayette throughout the war. I drove beef cattle through all these counties to the Thomas butcher pens in Tallahassee, helped butcher [the cattle] and attend [to] the soldiers around the barracks and carried provisions for Capt. Bob Gambles Company. Was at Natural Bridge fight on the St. Marks River, and was with baggage train at Olustee Battle out from Jacksonville. Not with my father under Capt. Scott from Tallahassee when they captured 13 enemy prisoners, and all their boats and other equipment were carried to Tallahassee. Was with State Militia when Bill Strickland and Jack Brannon were shot for desertion at Tallahassee. Toward the end of the year 1864, under my father’s influence and Capt. John Townsend was enrolled in the detail of militia from Waukeenah and also served under Capt. Bob Gamble and Lieut. E. W. Gamble.

Chauncey was honorably discharged in May 1865 and received his pension in July 1931.

After his military service, he married Mary “Molly” Wilson on November 4, 1870, and they had three children: Lenora, Linnie, and Jacob. Mary died in 1880, and he married Mary Jane Peterson on June 14, 1885, and they had eight daughters: Lucile, Lettice, Lena, Luella, Lelorena, Lydia, Lorenzine, and Lasibylla. All the girls lived into adulthood except Lorenzine, who died in infancy.

On March 12, 1911, just three years into his five year sentence, Chauncey received a “conditional pardon” from Governor Albert W. Gilchrist. The pardon read in part:

. . . it was determined that Andrew J. Chauncey, who was convicted in the Circuit Court of Lee County. . . of the offense of manslaughter. . .should now, upon the recommendation of the Circuit Judge who sentenced him, and stated that applicant “had pretty good reasons to beli[e]ve that the man whom he killed was seeking his life,” and that “he is an old man who in all probability has only a few years left to live. . . My judgment is that the ends of justice has been met in his case, and that he should be permitted to spend his remaining years at home. “And it being shown that prior to said homicide had been a good and useful citizen. . .” [He] be granted a conditional pardon, upon the condition that he hereafter lead a sober, peaceable and law-biding life. . . any of the conditions hereof have been violated, may order the said Andrew J. Chauncey arrested by any sheriff or constable and immediately delivered to the State Prison authorities.

Upon release, Chauncey and his family settled in Brevard County, Florida. In 1918, he lost his wife and daughter Lena, and later moved to Miami, where at the age of 79 he died on December, 11, 1932.

Lucy and Family After 1906

Miss Lucy remarried in May 1910, on Sanibel, to Oliver L. Richardson, who worked as a farm laborer. This union would produce two sons: Clyde, born in 1911, and Franklin, born in 1913. She continued to work as a sales person for M. Flossie Hill, a position she held for 31 years, and the family moved to Fort Myers where they resided on Heitman Street. In 1934 their son Franklin, 20, was involved in an auto accident from which he died from his injuries a few days later. Franklin had recently graduated from Fort Myers High School, class of 1932.

Oliver died in August 1942, and Lucy on July 11, 1960. At the time of her passing, she was known as a pioneer of the area and a member of several organizations. She was 83. Both are buried in the Fort Myers Cemetery.

As for Lucy’s children with John B. Daniels, Bertha married David Kite and they had one son, David Jr., and lived in Gainsville. She died at the age of 91 in 1972. William married Adeline, and they resided in Hillsborough where he worked as a shipping clerk for an oil company. He died at the age of 75 in 1976. John B. remained on Sanibel until the 1930s when he moved to Fort Myers, where he died at age 85 in 1988.

Clyde Richardson, Lucy’s first child with Oliver, lived for a short time with his half-sister, Bertha, before moving to Ocala. He worked as an assistant manager for his brother-in-law’s company, Kite’s Transfer. He died at the age of 91 in 2002, never marrying or having children. 

The Misadventures of the Steamer Lily White

The Misadventures of the Steamer Lily White

The steamer Lily White has its place in local Fort Myers history for bringing newspaper publishing magnet Stafford Cleveland to town in 1884. When Captain Henry L. Roan realized he had Cleveland as a passenger, with his Miehle flat-bed press, he bypassed calling on his Fort Ogden stop and went straight to Fort Myers. From that endeavor, the Fort Myers Press was born.

Sadly not all of Lily White’s history is remarkable. In the 1890s and at the turn of the 20th century, the steamboat was plagued with mishaps, from being capsized twice, seized, and burned to the water’s edge.

Two Weeks Missing 

In September 1894, reports from Key West read that a storm had “passed all and well.” A week later the Lily White, owned by Thomas Langford and James Hendry was missing. The schooner left Punta Rassa for Key West with a crew of five, two passengers, Captain Albert Griffin, and a cargo of cattle. It departed on Sunday, September 23 and “since which time nothing has been heard from her, although wreckers have searched the coast far and wide.”

Two weeks passed before she was discovered off the coast of Anastasia Island. “The steamer, May Gainer,” according to the local paper, “arrived at the shipyard dock. . . about 11 o’clock with the dismasted [sic] and disabled schooner Lily White in tow from St. Augustine. Both masts of the schooner are broken off at the deck and her rails are also broken. Her hull is all right.” The captain and crew luckily survived but the cargo of cattle died. Less than three years later she was back calling on her regular stops from Mobile, New Orleans, and ports along southwest Florida with Capt. Griffin again at the helm.

Fierce Wind Spout Capsizes Vessel 

In July 1897, the vessel met with perhaps the similar circumstances it did three years earlier. The Lily White hit a “wind spout” 30 miles out from land causing her to capsize and took the lives of passengers Nathan Swain and a sailor, Charles Shorlund. Unfortunately for Swain he was only on board the because he was ill and wanted to return home sooner.

Two steam tugs searched for the lost schooner, but failed to locate her.

T. M. Lybass, who arrived in Fort Myers on the St. Lucie shared with citizens and friends the horrors of the wreck and the amazement that some survived. Besides Swain, Shorlund, and Capt. Griffin, Sheriff T. W. Langford was on board with apprehended criminal Gabe Anderson (arrested for stealing a diamond ring) and Lybass all survived.

The local paper reported in detail the frightful disaster:

The schooner was making good headway with a strong northwest wind blowing, although the sea was very rough, sending the three Ft. Myers’ passengers below sea sick. Suddenly at about three in the afternoon a loud shout came from above for the men to get out, at the same time the ship went over like a shot. At the first warning Mr. Lybass and Nathan Swain jumped for the doorway, where they became wedged, a great suction seeming to draw them back into the cabin; after a struggle they forced their way through, followed by Sheriff Langford, who had not emerged when the cabin went under. The boat had been struck by what the sailors term a windspout [sic], a firce [sic] column of revolving air that laid low everything in its path. It came without the least warning, and there was no chance to shorten sail, and even had there been it is doubtful if the vessel would have stood the shock. This windspout [sic] was the forerunner of a severe gale that at once sprung up and kept the sea in an uproar all night.

The vessel had been completely turned over, and only her copper bottom showed on the surface.

The men frantically searched for anything they could use as a flotation. Lybass grabbed a hold of a bucket while Capt. Griffin clung to a small section of the broken tompost. The cook had noticed the life boat close by and the others swam over to it.

Yet safety was still not in their grasp. Lybass told how “the storm was raging and the sea rolling high, and night was coming on, without the sign of a sail in sight.”

The ordeal lasted three hours, but luck was on their side when they noticed strapped to the side of the lifeboat were paddles. Through the storm and afterward, the men took turns with the oars when they spotted the sail of the Lily Bird. The men had no water, no food, and had serve sunburn; enough so that “at first they had some difficulty in getting to the boat,” it was reported, “as the men [on board Lily Bird] were under the impression that they were a lot of escaped Negroes from Key West.”

After the rescue, the Lily White was spotted about 35 miles from Sand Key by Oxus, a cable ship. With a strong easterly current the vessel was drifting at five to six knots, and soon disappeared from sight heading toward the Bahama Banks - same route from its 1894 capsize. Near Key Largo she was picked up by a tug, Clyde, and returned to its home port where she was refitted.

Capt. Griffin, Sheriff Langford, Lybass, and prisoner Anderson were all commended for their bravery. The schooner Dart, which Swain was traveling on, never sighted the wreck, and the crew did not learn of the ordeal until they reached Fort Myers.

A week later, Sheriff Langford still felt the effects of the affair, but regardless he got Anderson to jail to await trail.

Lily White vs Custom Officials 

By January 1901, Lily White returned to business as usual, this time under the ownership of William Towles. The paper reported her local stops with such details as “The schooner Lily White came in port last Friday from Key West, with a lot of brick for the residence of Mr. W. H. Towles.” Sadly her bad luck had not run out. In mid January leaving Punta Rassa she was seized along with another vessel, Doctor Lykes, by the cutter, George W. McLane and towed back to Key West. It was stated the vessel had “169 demijohns of Cuban rum. . . besides a miscellaneous cargo.”

The following month the crew of Lily White appeared before U. S. Commissioner James G. Jones. Each crew member was held on $300 bonds, the vessel $3,000, the duties found on the ship were valued at $1,500. The hearing was scheduled for May.

Towles ran into difficulty trying to retrieve his vessels from U. S. custom officials. On board was material for his new residence, a large consignment of groceries for Harvie Heitman’s grocery store, and freight for George Shultz of Punta Rassa.

In mid February the Doctor Lykes was released, but not the Lily White, although part of Heitman’s goods were transfered. Towles worried more that his vessel would be sold by the government under confiscation proceedings.

Burning to the Water’s Edge 

In March 1901, the Lily White made its first trip since being seized. She left Key West for Punta Rassa to transport cattle. Later in the month, Towles took his vessel to Tampa to be completely refitted. It would be three months before she returned to the open waters where she would sail for another nine years without incident.

Yet bad luck reared itself one last time. The headline in the local paper ran “The Schooner Lily White a Total Wreck - The Cause of Accident Not Known.” While docked at the Gulf Refining Company in late December 1910, a 50-gallon drum of gasoline exploded during the night. Two people were reported dead and two others were listed in serious condition at Gordon Keller Memorial Hospital. As for the schooner, it was “wrecked and sank to the bottom almost immediately.”

Her days of plying the waters along southwest Florida are long gone, but the community of Fort Myers will always remember Lily White’s claim to fame being that one passenger who brought the news of the world to their doorsteps.

Town Marshal vs Cowboy in 1902

Town Marshal vs Cowboy in 1902

Larkin Moses Stroup is best remembered as being a Town Marshal and for a near deadly run in with Dennis Sheridan, “one of the toughest cowboys ever to ride the ranges of South Florida.” Although Stroup was a livery stable proprietor, he took the law into his own hands and patrolled the area of Fort Myers as a self-appointed peace officer. Throughout the community he was known as “Dad.” He also, for a time, ran a ferry across the Caloosahatchee River and operated a schooner line plying freight between Tampa and Fort Myers.

Stroup’s devotion to law and order went far beyond the town of Fort Myers. During the Spanish-American War, he enlisted with Ray’s Immunes under Colonel Teddy Roosevelt’s Rough Riders and saw action at the Battle of San Juan Hill on July 1, 1898. It was the bloodiest battle of the war and the greatest victory for the Rough Riders.

Stroup arrived in Fort Myers in 1886, just after marrying Claudia “Claude” Baxter. Three years later he was elected as Marshal and Collector, and again in 1891. He was known to have a “reputation for fearlessness” and was described as “a man with a fierce mustache and bristling eyebrows.” He left town only once for a short while. When his father-in-law fell ill and could no longer operate his plantation, Stroup and family moved up north. Upon the death of his father-in-law, Stroup and his growing family returned to Fort Myers in the summer of 1897, accompanied with his mother-in-
law, Charlotte (Grant) Baxter. He was again elected to the position of Marshal and Collector for 1902. It was during this tenure as Marshal that he came face to face with one of the roughest cowboys in all of southwest Florida – Dennis Sheridan.

On the Fourth of July, 1902, Marshal Stroup arrested H. O. Thomas for “being intoxicated on the
streets.” As he was transporting Thomas to the town jail, he was confronted by Sheridan and Dave Pool, who asked that Thomas be let out on bail. The Marshal replied that he had instructions from the mayor “to require either a written bond or the money for a prisoner’s appearance in the mayor’s court.” Pool then forked over ten dollars, and Thomas left with Sheridan and Pool.

Stroup then accompanied Philip Isaacs (editor of the News-Press), J. L. Culter (tannery operator), and Frank C. Alderman (attorney) who were sitting on the porch in front of Doc Williams’ Drugstore facing First Street, when Sheridan returned. Shaking his finger hollered, “Stroup, you are a damned liar.” The Marshal sprang from his seat and hit Sheridan over the head with his walking cane and a fight ensued.

Sheridan, who had been concealing a knife in his hand, began to stab Stroup, aiming for his throat. The men wrestled on the ground until Stroup was able to kick Sheridan off him. He then pulled a 32-caliber Smith & Wesson revolver and shot Sheridan just below the heart. The cowboy then made one last attempt at the Marshal and “leaped at [him] like a tiger, with the open knife in his hand.” Finally, two bystanders separated the men.

Sheridan died ten minutes later as Stroup was being treated by Drs. Hanson, Brecht and Winkler for multiple stab wounds. He recovered rapidly, and only days after the attack, Sheridan’s half-brother, Green Hodge, vowed revenge on Stroup. One story is that Hodge met Stroup on the street, and Stroup told him he was ready and offered Hodge one of his two 36-caliber pistols.

Hodge backed off, begging for his life and promising to leave the country - he was never seen again in Fort Myers.

Marshal Stroup also announced just weeks after the fight that he was going to run again for Marshal and Collector against Taff Langford. In what the paper reported as “one of the most hotly contested town elections ever held in Ft. Myers. . . Marshal Stroup came off with flying colors, defeating his opponent by the vote of 93 to 53.”

In the fall of 1910, three of Stroup’s children - Pearl, Grant and Loie May - were stricken with a serious illness. By June of 1911, the youngest of the children, Loie May was finally back to good health. Also in 1911, Stroup was elected to the City Council on which he served one year.

Stroup suffered a stroke in September of 1943. The day after, his wife died, and due to his medical condition, he was unable to attend the services. In a state of shock and overcome with grief by his wife’s passing, Stroup told his daughters, “I can’t go on without her. I am going to die of a broken heart.” Larkin Moses Stroup died just ten days later.