Eerie Legends and Haunting Histories of The Sunshine State
Welcome to a chilling journey through Florida's enigmatic history as Halloween approaches. Explore the tales of restless spirits, mysterious gravestones, and eerie legends that have haunted the Sunshine State. From hidden cemeteries to stories of "white witches," join us in uncovering Florida's supernatural lore. If you're brave enough, read on and embrace the spirit of the season.
1. Gave of “America’s Oldest Man” — Bartow, FL
In the eerie tales of Halloween lore, there exists a peculiar figure, a man whose age, much like his stories, is shrouded in mystery. Enter Charlie Smith, a character whose life unfolded with a certain inexplicable charm, making him seem as old as the moon itself – or so the legends go. Now, it's essential to note that while Charlie Smith's age might have taken on a life of its own, his stories have become the stuff of spectral legends.
Some say he lived for 137 years, but in the spirit of the season, we won't let facts stand in the way of a good, spine-tingling story. According to the curious case of Charlie Smith, his journey through time and space began in the depths of Liberia in 1842, or so he claimed. A mere 12 years later, a sinister twist of fate whisked him away to the United States, where he was thrust into the harrowing world of slavery.
However, it was in Texas that his life took a macabre turn when he was purchased by a farmer named Charlie Smith, who, rather unsettlingly, shared his name with the young boy. Upon the senior Smith's passing, as per an eerie request, the boy inherited his name and embarked on a terrifying journey. He joined the Union army, venturing out West, where his adventures took a decidedly eerie turn. He transformed from a humble ranch hand into a professional gambler, rubbing shoulders with the infamous James Gang. He even took up the bone-chilling profession of chasing Billy the Kid as a bounty hunter.
But, the eerie twists in his story didn't end there. Charlie Smith's life continued its spiral into the supernatural when he settled down, raising a family and, unbelievably, becoming a circus sideshow attraction. His life story, or perhaps an assortment of dark fables, was so captivating that it was immortalized in a 1978 episode of the television series 'Visions,' titled "Charlie Smith and the Fritter Tree." In this episode, Smith regaled an orderly at a nursing home with his haunting tales, including the story of being lured to America by the promise of fritters growing on trees.
Although the veracity of his age remains an enigma, it's widely accepted that he might have been a centenarian of sorts. A marriage certificate from 1910 stated his age as 35, and his place of birth as Georgia, which doesn't quite match up with the tales of his African origins. Further research found census documents listing a Mr. Smith as being 21 in 1900. If we add it all up, it suggests that he might have been around 105 when he met his eerie end.
Bartow, Florida, the place where he spent his twilight years, was either thoroughly amused or tantalizingly convinced by the authenticity of his ghoulish stories. Three years after his departure from this mortal realm, the townsfolk commemorated him with a tombstone in the local cemetery. It bore the title he had self-proclaimed – "America's Oldest Man."
His final resting place, row 28 of Wildwood Cemetery, sits second from the wall, close to a gnarled and ancient tree. A spooky reminder of a man who, whether we view him as an entertainer or a teller of sinister tales, left an indelible mark on the town's history and Halloween lore, proving that even in death, some stories refuse to rest in peace.
2. Grave of Captain Oliver Bowen — Sanibel, FL
Sanibel Island, bathed in Florida's sunlight, conceals a shadowy tale from its history—a tale best left buried. Among its enigmas is Captain Oliver F. Bowen.
Born in 1828, Bowen began as a Mississippi River boat pilot and, during the Civil War, joined the Confederacy as a river pilot, perhaps smuggling treasure past Union blockades. Post-war, he sailed the West Indies and Africa, dabbling in murky dealings.
Returning to Sanibel, he set up an agave plantation with his wife, Mary Dos Santos, after their Trinidadian nuptials. Rumors swirled of his hidden wealth, thought to be stolen diamonds and gold, further fueled by his eccentric well-guarding.
Bowen's sudden, mysterious death led to his burial in the well, with Dos Santos claiming it was his wish. Speculation abounded, wondering if he'd been murdered to conceal treasure. His two sons later returned with shovels and suitcases, raising questions about their intent.
In 1982, grave robbers disturbed Bowen's coffin, but the treasure remained elusive. Today, eerie tales persist, with reports of ghostly encounters and spectral lights.
Captain Bowen's Grave, now rarely visited, lies concealed in the Wulfert area, with no well-trodden path. For the intrepid adventurer, starting along Wulfert Road at approximately 26.470223, -82.156421 leads to this historic landmark, a chilling reminder of Sanibel's darkest secrets.
3. Johnnie Brown’s Grave — Palm Beach, FL
Nestled amid the lush fern fronds within the courtyard of Pizza Al Fresco, Palm Beach's sole cemetery remains a hidden gem. Technically a pet cemetery, it harbors the peculiar story of Jazz Era icon Addison Mizner and a spider monkey that transcended the bounds of simply being a pet.
Meet Johnnie Brown, or "The Human Monkey," one of Mizner's exotic companions from an era of Gilded Age extravagance. This spider monkey was no ordinary pet; he graced high society events alongside Mizner, donning the mantle of a special guest. Johnnie, accompanied by his monkey friend Deuteronomy, received an intriguing invitation to attend the infamous Scopes Trial, a legal battle over the teaching of evolution. Mizner, ever the steward of his primate companion's privilege, respectfully declined the offer.
The spider monkey ventured into politics as well, running for mayor, proudly endorsed by Mizner himself. Legend has it that even in the afterlife, Johnnie Brown and his furry cohort Laddie, who shares his resting place, playfully haunt Worth Ave's plaza and boutiques. Local business owners honor their spectral guests by leaving out ramekins filled with sliced bananas each night. The monkey's gravestone rests on the southern side of the courtyard at Pizza Al Fresco, flanked by tables for four.
Palm Beach holds more peculiarities in honor of Mizner's eccentric legacy, including a bronze statue erected in Boca Raton and Johnnie Brown's rib joint in Delray Beach. Embrace the quirky and the spectral, and you could build an entire vacation itinerary around Mizner's delightful lunacy.
4. Grave of Charles Dummett — New Smyrna Beach, FL
On Canova Drive in New Smyrna Beach, a spine-chilling spectacle awaits—a grave right in the middle of the street. This eerie monument pays tribute to Charles Dummett, a teenage soul who met his untimely end in 1860.
Charles, born to landowner Douglas D. Dummett and Leandra "Anna" Fernandez, an enslaved woman, departed from this world at the tender age of 15. The shadows of history have concealed the exact cause of his demise, but most tales speak of a hunting accident that snatched him away.
Haunted by grief, the elder Dummett erected his son's final resting place right where his life met its tragic end. And there it has stayed, through the passage of time. In the 1950s, as developers set their sights on the area, they faced a grim decision. Instead of wading through the labyrinthine legal process required to relocate the grave, they chose to carve a road around the memorial, forever entwining Charles Dummett's resting place with the street.
As if the story wasn't eerie enough, a ghostly artist, veiled in anonymity, etched a statue of a dog at the gravesite in 2019, adding an extra layer of mystery to this supernatural spot. This oddity in the road stands as a chilling reminder of a past that refuses to rest, a testament to Charles Dummett's enduring presence in the world beyond.
5. Brownie the Town Dog’s Grave — Daytona Beach, FL
On Beach Street in Daytona Beach, a spectral tale unfolds, starring a large, brown, short-haired stray known as Brownie. Born into the world around 1939, this charming canine sauntered into the realm of the Daytona Cab Company, leaving paw prints on the hearts of owner Ed Budgen and his drivers.
In a gesture of fondness, they fashioned a doghouse for Brownie out front. His presence quickly transcended the cab company's doorstep, making him a beloved figure along Beach Street and the riverfront. Brownie belonged to no one yet to everyone, a free spirit with a knack for bringing people together.
The locals, Beach Street's shopkeepers, and even tourists all chipped in to ensure Brownie's well-being. Ed, at the cab company, went so far as to establish a Florida Bank and Trust account in the dog's name. It guaranteed a constant supply of dog food and covered any vet bills that might arise.
Brownie's gentle demeanor and his diplomatic approach to life made him an icon, a must-see for shoppers, and a magnet for tourists. They couldn't resist stopping by, sharing a moment, snapping a picture, or just sitting with him while awaiting their bus or cab. Each year, the town united to purchase a dog license for Brownie, his tag eternally bearing the number one, a testament to his official role as the goodwill ambassador of Daytona Beach.
As the seasons came and went, Brownie's fame spread far beyond the town's boundaries. National magazines and newspapers, along with local press, sang his praises. His admirers, scattered across the United States, sent him Christmas cards and gifts year after year.
But then, on Halloween night in 1954, a ghostly chill descended. At the age of 15, Brownie left this world, departing on the spookiest of nights. The entire city mourned the loss of their beloved canine companion, and 75 people gathered in Riverfront Park for his somber farewell. In a poignant eulogy, Mayor Jack Tamm honored the memory of the canine who had become more than just a pet, a true symbol of the town's spirit.
6. Grave of Elizabeth Budd-Graham — Tallahassee, FL
Tucked away in Tallahassee's oldest public cemetery, the enigmatic grave of Elizabeth "Bessie" Budd-Graham beckons, a unique memorial to a woman some believe to be a benevolent "white witch."
Established in 1829, the Old City Cemetery is a resting place for a tapestry of souls who once graced Tallahassee during the 19th century. It's home to governors, store clerks, war veterans, yellow fever victims, slaves, and planters. Among them, in 1889, a 23-year-old wife and mother named Elizabeth Budd-Graham was laid to rest beneath an ornate headstone in this hallowed ground.
Almost immediately, whispers of legends began to swirl around her memorial. Born in the bewitching month of October, Elizabeth's grave marker deviates from the others. Unlike Christian tradition, it faces West, adding to the aura of mystery. But perhaps the most cryptic of all is Elizabeth's epitaph, an excerpt from Edgar Allan Poe's melancholic ode to a departed love:
"Ah! Broken is the golden bowl. The spirit flown forever! Let the bell toll! A saintly soul Floats on the Stygian River; Come let the burial rite be read The funeral song be sung; An anthem for the queenliest dead That died so young A dirge for her the doubly dead In that she died so young."
Rumors swirled that Elizabeth had bewitched her husband into marrying her, casting spells of love and protection as a "good witch." Yet, no documented connection to witchcraft can be found. More likely, her grieving family sought a way to honor a life cut tragically short, and who better than Edgar Allan Poe to do so?
Nonetheless, the legend of Tallahassee's "white witch" endures. To this day, curious visitors and fellow practitioners visit the grave to pay homage and leave offerings for Elizabeth, "the doubly dead," as witches must be slain twice, a testament to the spectral charm of this mysterious woman's memory.
As our journey through the shadows of Florida's past draws to a close, remember that the mysteries and ghostly legends that shroud this state are not bound by the confines of a single season. Florida's history is a tapestry of the unexplained, and it's a tapestry that continues to unravel with each passing day. Whether you find yourself drawn to the resting places of spectral figures, or intrigued by tales of mysterious "white witches," Florida's eerie secrets await those willing to delve into the unknown. So, as the Halloween season fades and the darkness of the unknown remains, keep an eye out for the unexplained and the supernatural, for you never know what eerie encounter may await just around the corner in the Sunshine State.
In the heart of Lakeland, Florida, a host of cemeteries harbors the echoes of history and the restless spirits of yesteryears. The Cemeteries Division oversees six of these solemn grounds at two distinct locations, each with its own tales to tell.
The oldest trio, Lakeview, Roselawn, and Tiger Flowers, nestles at the corner of Ingraham Avenue and Parker Street. Though the spaces here have long been claimed, the cemeteries still witness around 30 burials each year. Among the silent residents are Civil War Veterans, former Lakeland Mayors, and the esteemed Park Trammell—a man of many titles, from Attorney General to Governor and United States Senator.
Further to the south, at 4620 US Highway 98 S, Lakeland, FL 33812, lie Oak Hill, Laurel Hill, and Temple Emanuel Cemeteries. Oak Hill Burial Park, dedicated in 1926, spans 200 acres, with 120 of them meticulously developed. Notably, a Veterans Section offers a final resting place for veterans and their spouses, honoring their service. This sprawling expanse of perpetual care holds the distinction of being Polk County's largest cemetery of its kind.
But these cemeteries are not just places of eternal rest; they are windows into the past, brimming with stories and history.
If you dare, you can join the Lakeland History and Culture Center staff on a journey through the Historic Downtown Cemeteries. Here, you'll walk in the company of the departed, learning the captivating tales and legacy of Lakeland as told through the lives of those who rest beneath the sacred ground. Amidst the sepulchral stones, you'll unravel the cryptic language of funerary iconography, discovering the hidden meanings etched into these solemn memorials.