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A little Fort Lauderdale history..

THE 1836 MASSACRE IN FORT LAUDERDALE
The Killing of the Cooley Family

PLUS:

Fort Lauderdale’s first industry: How to prepare coontie starch

“Cooley was reported to be growing coontie (arrowroot), and he had a mill to make it into starch, the manufacture of which appears to have been the area’s first industry. By 1835, coontie starch was bringing eight cents a pound in northern markets.”

The following text is exactly as it appears in the original:

FROM THE CHARLESTON COURIER

SKETCHES OF THE PENINSULA OF FLORIDA — By Dr. Strobel.

When about half way between New river and the Miami, our water suddenly shoaled, and we were under the necessity of getting out, and dragging our canoe over. This place is called by the people the Dividers, the water south of it running towards the Miami, whilst that on the north empties itself at New river. It appeared to be nothing more than a sand bank running from east to west

As we approached New river, the land upon our right consisted of the same sandy pine barren as I have already described. The Indian arrow root, called coonte, is found here is great quantities. We landed, and collected several roots, which were very large, weighing several pounds. This is the Indian’s principal bread stuff. It is met with in most of the pine barrens in this section of Florida, but it grows in such profusion in this neighborhood, that they come from considerable distances to procure it. Mr. Cooley (whose wife and children were so inhumanly murdered by the Indians a short time since) was engaged in the manufacture of this article, and had brought it to great perfection. The following is the manner of preparing it: A sufficient number of roots being collected, they are peeled, washed, and grated, in the same manner as potatoes, and thrown into large tubs of water. After remaining in soak for a certain length of time, the water is stirred and strained: by this process it is greed of the feculent matter. The coarser portion, thus separated, may be given to hogs, whilst the finer portion, which passes through the sieve, is allowed to settle. The farina, which is almost insoluble in cold water, subsides at the bottom. The water is drawn off, and the yellow portions which remain on the top are removed. The white arrow root, which from its specific gravity, is found at the bottom, is collected, and repeatedly heated with fresh water, until it becomes perfectly pure and white, of a granular, glistening, crystalline appearance. I am inclined to think that , when thus prepared, it is very nearly, if not quite equal, to the Bermuda arrow root, not only as a starch, but also as an article of diet. And here I may as well mention the circumstances attending the murder of Mr. Cooley’s family, as they are calculated to illustrate the treachery of the Indian character. He had resided among them for many years, spoke their language well, and treated them with uniform kindness and hospitality. Indeed, such was his friendship for them that he named his sons after two of their chiefs. Standing in this relations, and confiding in their profession of friendship, which had led him into a fatal security, he left his home for a few days, and returned to find it desolate. His wife and children had been murdered, and the smouldering ruins of his house lay before him. It is a remarkable fact, that the villains who did this deed had not the hardihood to scalp the poor wife and her three innocent children. Was it the recollection of former friendship that induced them thus to spare? Or were they conscious that their own savage colleagues would have blushed for the chivalry of those warriors who could find no work more becoming their tomahawks and scalping knives than the cruel butchery of women and children? The unfortunate schoolmaster shared a different fate; to him they owned no obligation of friendship: he was a man, and, as such, capable of resistance; his scalp was, therefore, torn from him, and borne off as a testimony of their cruel and savage triumph.

It should be borne in mind that, in their devastation of his other property, Mr. Cooley’s manufactory was spared. This, no doubt, will be serviceable to them hereafter, in preparing their food. I have no pretensions of being a military man, but it appears to me that it would be well to place a sufficient body of troops between Cape Sable and New river, to cut off the supplies of the Indians from that quarter, and to prevent them from escaping into the everglades, from whence they may readily pass to the Florida Keys. If they once cut down into the everglades, they will scatter like a covey of partridges, and each one will have to be hunted up separately, which will be an interminable task.

Towards night we came up with several Indian hunters, who were lying around their fire. We went ashore, with the determination of joining them. On our approach, a dog sprung out, and uttered a noise between a yell and a bark, which echoed and re-echoes through the woods. In an instant the Indians were on their feet; but a whoop from JOHN soon brought them down upon their haunches. We went up and seated ourselves around the fire

They at first seemed to take no notice of me, as they sat on the opposite side of the fire, their dusky faces partly obscured by the current of smoke. Occasionally they eyed me sulkily and by stealth. A few words, chiefly monosyllables, passed between them and JOHN, but they did not enter into any length conversation. A silence of some minutes having elapsed, which induced me to believe that I was not a welcome guest, I concluded that something must be done to conciliate. I therefore told John to inform them that I had something to eat, and some fire-water, and that we must be good friends. This information acted upon them like a charm. They began to snuff the air like a parcel of hungry dogs, become more sociable and conciliatory, brought out some fresh venison, which they placed over the coals to broil, having first run a stick through it. To keep my word, I produced my cold ham, and biscuit, and gave each (they were in number three) about a gill of gin; the instantaneous effect of which astonished and alarmed me. It was almost miraculous: from being silent and demure, they became talkative and forward. They insisted upon having more whiskey, and endeavored to possess themselves of the bottle by force, and I was obliged to conceal it. They were now unable to repress their flow of spirits, and began to sing, and dance, and to make the more horrid faces, thrusting their tongues out of their mouths, and rolling their eyes in every direction. As they reeled, and danced, and yelled around the fire, throwing themselves into the most ludicrous attitudes, they resembled a parcel of infernal spirits, or the furies. This sport they continued until perfectly exhausted, when, one by one, they sank upon the ground, and fell into a sleep. I place my buffalo skin on the opposite side of the fire, covered my head with a cloak, and slept soundly until morning. The Indians were up betimes; they rose from their lairs, shook themselves, kindled up the fire, and ate a scanty meal. Upon the subsidence of the effect of the liquor, all their former reserve seemed to have returned. Having collected some coonte, they placed it along with their venison in their canoe, paddled rapidly up the everglades, and were soon out of sight. It being now time for me to think of returning, John and myself took the opposite direction, and paddled back for Cape Florida, and, as we had nothing to delay us, arrived at the Cape about 3 o’clock in the afternoon: there, according to agreement, I found Mr. Dubose’s boat in waiting for me. So that I was enabled to reach the Light-house about six o’clock in the evening.

finn spotted my and sappho’s entry regarding her being annoying here – (the entry is friends-only now.) strangely, she let us know in a weirdly passive-agressive way. She posted a reply, and then came into karen’s office to let us know that she wrote a reply, but didn’t confront us in any way. Instead we spoke about livejournal and puppies.

I went in and smoothed things over with the Finn… turns out that sappho blabbed my aim to karen to diana, and it got back to the finn again… another breach of security.

“If that’s a confession, my ass is a banjo.”

Edgar Allen Poe story… Hop-Frog… men dressed in orangutan outfits set on fire, the perils of drinking wine, and why you shouldn’t piss off a dwarf, even if you are a king.

Mmm…. Mexican sugar skulls.

I lost a game of world war to the palmtop…Mongolia finished my last landmasses in Asia. Before I knew what I was saying, I muttered “F-ing MON-GO-REE-ANS!”. I need a great wall to keep ’em out.

I’ve seen no sign of Oktoberfest anywhere. I missed it! German-American Club (warning, tacky embedded wav), you’re slacking with the advertising. I want a hot pretzel with mustard, and a beer! I guess I’ll have to enjoy Bavarian music and chicken dancing in the privacy of my own home.

Looks like a rainy day today… I’m all for that… I just hope it doesn’t make me too sleepy!

Valhalla, I am coming! Image of Newt as a Viking Kitten, shamelessly taken from rathergood.com

Is Thomas a Rhymer? A Peeper? A Doubter? A Tank Engine?

What’s the plural of Strega? Strege? Streghe? Italian? Albanian?

last day of the 9-5 deal.

just as well… I hope that there’s a minimum of nonsense today. I’d like to get some things done without having to run them twice or four times due to technological troubles.

Something out of a sci-fi magazine… a news story about rocket belts, intrigue, and jealous murder. Yeah, Rocket belts!

Not feeling too talkative….(typeative), and I’ve got to head off to work. until later, dear journal.

Dan and I were just talking on the phone, and composed a lovely entry into the moon pie contest.

Our collaboration was limited to only 100 words per entry, though… so our story had to cut out Rufus the albino green-eyed Asian boy, and his eventual end at the home for the incontinent and criminally insane after blessing the flotilla feast. Also Cut was Barney, and his forest-splitting staccato flatulence. I’ll have to add them to a different, future entry.

It was a lot of fun though… we broke into laughter a few times.

entry

Back home from work… network was extra bonus fubarred today, plus the profiles were all rewritten again. I hope that this is the last time… Poor Sappho came in early and was still harried by the general populace to “fixitfixitfixit”. I left her alone today, as I had plenty of work to do myself…. Island Boy’s work isn’t hard, but it’s certainly an addition to my current load. I’ll be happier once I can return to my own projects and concerns.

Going to make some english muffin pizzas for supper… easy and quick, plus, they’re tasty!

I hope everyone had a nice birthday / unbirthday / indigenous people’s day / Chinese discovery day / Leif Erickson Day / Columbus Day / Thanksgiving / Monday Mine was good, but busy. I barely tasted lunch, and I ate it at about 3:30. My Senses narrow when I’m focusing…a degree of tunnel vision.

Newt’s certainly delighted that I’m home! He’s all nuzzy and purry. 🙂

According to the GPS… When I’m at “casual touring” speed, I bike at ~8.5 mph. when I’m in boogie-crank mode, I go at ~14.4… not much different… but I go about 4x my walking speed on wheels.

Know what? I’m glad they’ve never made a “Beetlejuice II” movie, Though I quite like the movie and Spun off Cartoon.

Hmm… Found a fun little time-sucker called I Used To Believe.com. It’s a collection of all those childhood ideas we once thought were true. You can add your own. 🙂 Looks like a lot of kids had boogie men in the potty.

Random Scotto Factoid – Something I believed as a child… right around 4th grade or so. I formed a theory on how we die… we’re born with an exactly even balance of fortune… when the doctor smacks us into life. That’s a little bad luck to get us rolling… after that, good and bad stuff come in spurts, and we die when it’s exactly even again. I tried to figure out what some balances were…losing your last pocket change in a soda machine balances vs. finding $.50 on the ground… the trick would be to find $.51… then you’re ahead. The pendulum goes back and forth like that until the debt / credit balance is returned to zero. I no longer believe it, but still think it’s a pretty nifty idea.

A point of interest for my sweetheart…. A new study suggests people with naturally red hair need about 20 percent more anesthesia than patients with other hair colors.

Spellcheck thinks Chupa is Chapeau. I have a goatsucker for a hat!

An insanely cute collection of costumes for babies.… speaking of which, Mayah was in good form last night… she can push Cathi on the little kid scooter by putting weight into her toddles. Pretty good for a munchkin under a year old! Supper last night was veggie burger, salad and brownies for dessert. I fell asleep just about 5ish am, I estimate… and woke at about 9. I’ll probably take a midday nap to crank my juice back up a little. My sleep was a sound one… of the sort where it was an eye blink, and four hours had gone by. Took Luna and the baby for a walk, before dessert… Jack the evil dog was out there. I got to use my sonic boom authority voice on him.. “*GO HOME*”… he went to his yard and barked from there, after a few stern yells. I wonder where his owners were?

Went for a little bike ride with the bro this morn, and checked out a local yard sale. a couple of good items… a nice pup tent, bed rolls, an ancient laptop, lots of unusual tools… hatchet, crowbar, pickaxe… and a couple of books all looked good, but I abstained on all but two tomes… Chronicles of Robin Hood, and Great American Ghost Stories. I rather like yard sales, just because you get to look at all the loot… form a mental snapshot of the person selling the stuff. Did they get a new tent? Did the family member that liked to camp pass away? Was this stuff found left behind in the house?

I’d like to have psychometry. As long as I could turn it on or off at will. The last thing I need is to get readings off of my clothes and sheets’ last trip in the washing machine, let alone the scene of a violent crime or other off-putting act.

Chupaaaaa!!!The history channel’s doing a documentary on Bigfoot and Other Monsters –

The mermaid, Abominable Snowman, giant squid, and dragons are all parts of myths and mysteries. But are some real? The Komodo Dragon was merely the stuff of local legend–until the dinosaur-like, very real giant reptile with an orange tongue and a fierce disposition was tracked down. Giant squids, measuring as long as 100 feet, have been found to really exist. We’ll explore every possible explanation for these and other legendary creatures and find out if some might really exist. TV G

Current Flavor – Chupacabra!… a personal fave.

Speaking of mermaids… I’m thinking nice thoughts of my sweetheart… hoping that she’s digging her day and is feeling my admiration and love for her. She’s had an even more busy week than myself…here’s to her being able to sink into a warm, fragrant tub of bathwater, scented with exotic oils, and gentle unwinding.

Still awake… couldn’t sleep…restless. So I’ve tried a hot bath. After I dry more, I’ll hit the sack again.

Something weird about feeling the bathtub drain, and having gravity return to full.

It’s very comforting to have Newt follow me from bedroom to bath, with nary a complaint. He hangs out while I talk to him about the day’s events, or make up little stories for him, as he bats at my fingertips or mouth.

Brown is Green. A dung-fueled power station in the UK has won an environmental award from the Euro Solar educational charity. The £7M plant produces power for the national grid, and is capable of generating 1.4 megawatts of power at full tilt. Located in Devon, it runs on approximately 1.6 million tons of waste produced by local farmers. Apparently, this trend is pretty big in Germany and Denmark: both countries already have about 20 large-scale poo-poo-powered plants.

The First Viennese Vegetable Orchestra uses vegetable-based instruments to perform classical compositions (listen). Where necessary, additional kitchen utensils such as knives or mixers are employed.

Ok. Dry now. Night night.