Ep. 26 - The Dark Power of the Everglades

The Florida Everglades is a network of impenetrable swamps, snaking waterways and thick cypress forests. This would be a great place to make a body disappear and there is a dark history here of disappearances, death and hauntings. Conservative numbers claim that there have been 175 unsolved murders here since 1965. People claim that the Everglades is haunted and there are stories going back to the times of the earliest settlers here, the Calusa tribe, that speak of a dark energy and power.

Some might say that Native American tribes tell stories of places having an evil essence, but that they are just that, stories.  But what do we make of the ramblings of one of the most heinous serial killers of all time, Henry Lee Lucas. Lucas claimed that an occultist group known as The Hand of Death used the Everglades as a meeting place for practicing rituals and had some kind of paramilitary training camp there. He joined the group here and made what may have been his first murder under the direction of the Hand of Death. They had him enter the tent of a drunken member and Lucas claims he slashed the man's throat. Lucas was known to tell a tall tale and authorities believe that he inflated his kill numbers greatly. So it's possible that he just made this up, but apparently it was his partner in crime, Ottis Toole, that brought him into the group. But it wasn't just Lucas and Toole that claimed the cult existed. Charles Manson and the Son of Sam also did. Stories about the cult and camp claim that there were several hundred students from six different countries at the camp. They would drink the blood of victims and sometimes eat some of the flesh and burn bodies on altars. Evening recreation would include alcohol, drugs and orgies. Part of the duties assigned to members were kidnapping children for sex trafficking or use in sacrificial ceremonies. Police did search the Everglades and never found evidence of the cult. Lucas maintained until his death that the Everglades was a place of true evil. That it was a place similar to the Crossroads. A place one goes to meet with the Devil.

The Biblical Devil may not reside in the Everglades, but a devilish man once did. Everglades City is the gateway to Everglades National Park. The Calusa were an indigenous people who made these mangrove islands habitable by packing them with shells to create solid ground. This ground came to be known as the Ten Thousand Islands. One of these was Chokoloskee Island. This was a harsh environment where people plastered themselves in mud to keep the mosquitos from biting. Sugar farmers were able to plant here with success though, so the area soon populated with farmers and migrant farm workers. This also was a great place for outlaws to hide out. One of those outlaws was Edgar Watson.  He arrived in the 1880s and built a cabin atop one of the sacred shell mounds on Chokoloskee Island.  He was originally from South Carolina and had spent time out west. Rumors claim that Watson was on the run from the law for murder. And not just the murder of anyone. Although the case remains unsolved today, historians believe that Watson killed infamous outlaw Belle Starr.

Belle Starr was associated with Jesse James and other wild west outlaws. Watson had shown up in Oklahoma and she leased some land to him. Shortly after that, she got hauled in before a judge who put her on parole, but warned her that she would get jail time if she was found to be hanging out with any outlaws. Starr knew she needed to get rid of Watson because he had a warrant out for his arrest in Florida where he killed someone. Watson was a jerk and decided to get back at Starr so he shot her in the back one day when she was riding into town on a horse. She died instantly. Somehow, the grand jury voted that Watson was not guilty and he returned to Florida.

Watson spent his time hunting exotic birds for their plumage, raising hogs and growing sugar cane. When he would come to town for supplies, people generally avoided him as he gave off a bad energy. He was eccentric and always wore a dark overcoat and kept his back to the wall. He  rarely spoke to anyone, usually only offering the most basic greeting. There were signs that he had a violent nature. He once got in a drunken brawl with another landowner and slit his throat nearly killing him. He paid the man $900 to drop his complaint and no charges were pressed against Watson. Despite living on a remote island, people in town did keep tabs on the workings of the Watson Plantation. They noticed that Watson made it a practice to hire migrant workers to help him in his prosperous sugar cane business. They couldn't help but observe that each year there would be a new crop of workers, almost as if the other workers had disappeared.

In 1910, a group of boys were traveling by boat near the Watson Plantation when they saw something unusual in the water. As they approached, they realized that it was the disemboweled body of a woman. They went back to town and several men retrieved the body and realized that it was a woman who worked for Watson. A small posse of men made the trip out to the plantation, but when they knocked on the door, they were told that Watson was not there. They started to leave when they noticed several places where earth was disturbed. The men decided to dig because they had a feeling they would find more bodies. And they did. Around forty of them. It would seem that Watson would kill the workers at the end of the season rather than pay them.

The next day, when the men found Watson, he told them that he believed a man he had brought down to be his foreman, Leslie Cox, was responsible for the murders. He said he would take care of the problem since he had hired the man. Later, Watson arrived in town on his boat and is met by several men standing on the dock of the general store with shotguns. He explained to them that he took Cox out in his boat and shot him and then threw his body into the murky waters. Now a former worker had told these men that he had witnessed Watson killing workers and gutting them so that their bodies would sink more easily into the swamp and that the swamp was literally littered with bodies. When Watson got off his boat, he pulled out a revolver and was quickly loaded up with bullets. The corpse was tied to the back of a small boat and dragged through the swamp to nearby Rabbit Key, where it was dumped unceremoniously into pit and buried. The sheriff dug up the body later and found 33 gunshot wounds. Watson was then buried at Fort Myers Cemetery.

Watson's Place is now a historic site, but the house is in ruins. Nothing would grow on the farm after Watson's death. A legend claims that a woman who lived in the house was tortured by haunting spirits there and finally burned the place to the ground. Another story claims that rangers burned the cabin down in 1960. It is thought that both Watson and his victims haunt the area and it is no wonder since no one knows for sure that Watson was indeed a serial killer and many of the victims' bodies are still probably buried in the alligator infested swamp. Edgar Watson actually had a wife and a daughter. He has a grandson who reputedly wrote the following letter that lends credence to the story that his grandfather's spirit still haunts this place:

"11/22/97

Dear Old Friend,
   
    The most peculiar thing happens to a person once they've
entered the city limits of Everglade City, Florida.  It is almost
as if that proverbial "black cloud" just suddenly hovers over your
head.  Only, it is not a "black cloud"; it is more like a big
black hat.  Of course, only one man in Ten Thousand Island's
history can ever get away with wearing that black hat.  That man
was Edgar J. Watson.  "Who's Edgar J. Watson?" you ask.  Why, he
is only the most infamous man in Chokoloskee history.  The oddest
thing is that he has been dead since 1910 or so they say.  But
I'll tell ya, Mr. Watson will live on forever. 
    Just let me tell ya a tale of how even today in 1997, Ed
Watson makes his presence felt all over these islands.  It must've
been about three weeks ago when these dang college kids come west
from Dade to visit the Smallwood store and take a little boat tour
of the islands.  Well, I can tell you that ain't no college
education sinking into them.  They should have known that it was
gonna be a bad day when all that rain come down even before nine
o'clock. 
    It all started when they got to Ted's old store 'bout ten in
the morning.  You see, there they were all wet and eager to hear
about Mr. Watson's life on Chatham Bend.  Now, I've been in
Chokoloskee all my life and, I've seen so many city slickers come
in and out that there store it'll make your head spin.  I am
certain that old Ted must be turning in his grave as he watches
all them people come in and out his store.  Well, soon enough them
kids sat down in the southwest corner of the store where they got
all of Totch's videos playing.  So, the kids sit there and listen
to their guest lecturer as he starts talking about the life and
times of E.J. Watson.  About halfway through the lecture I meander
my way through their sitting area and head out the back door.
But, as I'm walking I make eye contact with one of them kids.  He
was a fat feller.  Must have been at least two hundred plus
pounds; but, that ain't the only reason I laid eyes on him.  You
see, I looked at him because as I strolled through I noticed that
he couldn't take his slanty little eyes off of that picture of Mr.
Watson and Mrs. Watson and lovely young Carrie.  Right then and
there, I knew.  I knew he was the one!
    You see, every once in a while a tourist will come through
Everglade City and do everything there is to do here.  And, every
other once in a while there is a tourist who'll come through and
never leave.  His body may leave but his heart and soul will be
here forever.  And, if you are wondering where his heart and soul
will be; it'll be at that beautiful white plantation home on
Chatham Bend. 
    Everyone says that E.J. died that day in 1910, but I sure as
heck don't believe a word they say.  I've been here all my life
and, I know what I've seen.  I have seen (with my own two eyes) a
man with auburn hair and a broad black hat covered in a dark
overcoat walking through the streets and riding a skiff out in
them entangled islands.  Now, the funny thing is this figure
always has his back to me.  So, I can't tell you it is Mr. Watson
for sure but, the betting man would definitely put his money on
Edgar J. Watson. 
    The most unusual thing about the dark figure is that he only
appears when some tourist has something unfortunate happen to him.
I swear that I'd seen E.J. that same morning before that class
come into town.  I seen him out on Chokoloskee Bay grinning his
way into them lush tropical islands. 
    Anyhow, them kids went for lunch out towards what is now the
Everglades National Park Visitor Center.  They all ate their
lunches except for the fat feller.  They ate anything from
sandwiches to fruit to yogurt and not one bit of all that food
touched the lips of that plump boy.  You see, it had already
begun.  E.J. was playing with his mind.  Back in the store, the
kid couldn't take his eyes off of Ed because Ed wouldn't take his
eyes off of him.  It was as if Mr. Watson had said something to
the boy that no one else heard.  Well, once E.J. has got their
attention he makes sure never let's it go. 
    About two o'clock them kids got on one of them boats and head
out on the bay towards all them mysterious islands.  And, yes,
that kid still looked all dazed and confused.  Sure enough, they
docked on Sandfly Key around three o'clock and, it was then that I
knew it was all over for this feller.  Halfway into that deep
green trail on Sandfly Key, the other kids claim they heard
something like a buckshot out of a double-barrel shotgun.  Now, if
that wasn't enough to scare the daylights out of them, they
noticed that the fat kid was gone.  At first, they figured he was
just pulling some wild prank but, soon enough, they began to worry
that maybe he was lost out there in the wilderness.  So, they set
up a search party see if they could find him before dark.  The
only thing worse than being lost in the Ten Thousand Islands is
being lost in the Ten Thousand Islands at night.  Just about when
they'd given up, the rangers and others heard a scream.  It'd come
from just about where that patch of cactus was growing.  There he
was!  The other kids say that when they found him he was sucking
on his thumb and his cap had been knocked of his head.  One of the
rangers told me that cap was so full of buckshot holes that it
reminded him of a block of Swiss cheese.  Now, I saw that fat
feller as he left this place and let me assure that E.J. Watson
got to him.  They had to call an ambulance for that boy.  One of
the rangers told me that the boy was still in a catatonic phase
and, the doctors said they can't tell when he come out.  If you
ask me, there ain't no way that boy is ever coming back out.
"Why?" you ask.  Well, because E.J. Watson has got his heart and
soul down there on Chatham Bend. 
    Later that night I could have sworn I heard a deep chuckle
coming from those islands and, I'll bet you anything that it was
Mr. Watson laughing at his newest addition to the plantation.
Now, I can't tell you why it is that Edgar J. Watson still haunts
the Ten Thousand Islands area but, my guess is that he is just
taking care of some unfinished business and loving every minute of
it! 
    Please make sure that you take care of yourself and your kin
if you ever come to Everglade City because Mr. Watson may just be
waiting for you.
                             Sincerely,
                               
                             "Little" Robbie Watson

P.S.  I guarantee you that Grampa is just fine."

The store in town that Watson shopped at was called Smallwoods Store and it is still there. Today, it runs as a museum and there are claims of hauntings here that include seeing a dark figure to cold spots to disembodied voices. Neighbors often let the owners know that they have seen people moving about in the store when no one should be in there. Mallory McMillin is the great-granddaughter of Ted Smallwoods and she runs the museum. She said, "I’ve been here my whole life. Sometimes when I’m closing up and I get all the doors and stuff closed, I don’t know, it feels kind of creepy, like there’s someone standing behind me sometimes."

Another legend from this area claims that a ghost pirate ship roams the waters. The story goes that a merchant vessel was trying to evade a pirate ship, but was finally captured. The pirates put every crewman aboard the vessel to death except the wife of the skipper. The poor woman was forced to witness all the men being killed. She pleaded with God to bring down a curse on the pirates. Almost instantly, a tidal wave pushed the pirate ship inland within the maze of rivers and channels of the Everglades. The pirate ship was hopelessly lost and there have been numerous reports of people claiming to see the spectral ship. It is described as a ghostly rusted hulk with tattered sails that is drifting aimlessly.

Are the Everglades really home to a menacing force? Or has death come to the Everglades and found a good place to rest? Are there spirits at unrest among the mangroves and islands? Are the Florida Everglades haunted? That is for you to decide!