Chiles and His Florida
When most governors say that they know their state, it's a lie.
They probably couldn't name more than a few cities or counties--the places where they grew up, went to college, got married, and worked. Especially in a big state like Florida, Texas, or California, the names run together and easily get lost in the blur of public life.
Lawton Chiles campaigned in all of Florida's 67 counties in his bids for state office; he and his staff prided themselves on knowing something about every part of the state. He knew what it was like to dig his feet into the red clay country around Quincy, climb to the top of Jay Hill or Chattahoochee bluffs, swim the natural springs outside Orlando, observe phosphate mines in his native Polk County, and witness the path of Hurricane Andrew's destruction in Dade County.
On his famous 1970 walk across Florida for his U.S. senate campaign, he built a relationship with the small piney towns of the state's Panhandle region that lasted till his death. The folks who welcomed him into their kitchen, sat down with him on their porch, and invited him out on an impromptu turkey hunt never forgot the simple message of all the walking and talking: every vote counts.
Whether in Oklahoma, Texas, Virginia, Maryland, or Florida, Panhandle regions often find themselves far from the seat of government, and even farther from the ear of the governor. Reaching out to them is perhaps the biggest test of a governor's constituent service. Even in our digital age, files still get lost, names forgotten, small issues swept aside to make way for big ones. Communication breaks down; good people withdraw from the political process; regionalism develops. A quick look at Civil War history tells how violent that can get if left to fester.
Chiles challenged himself to know Florida's forgotten highways by heart, especially the Panhandle. He loved all of Florida and never cheated himself and the voters by neglecting a region or playing diverse regions off one another. Part of this blog will be spotlighting the Panhandle towns, woods, and trails that he loved, as well as the people who live there. Much of it has changed little since the Walk. Saint Marks National Wildlife Refuge may not have a metal post outside of it marking the "Lawton Chiles Trail," but surely it's on the path. The park was established in 1931--one of the oldest in the state.The Refuge is extremely dry right now, like the rest of the state. The park staff is wary of thunderstorms. A May storm lit several fires across the Refuge. I visited a couple weeks ago.
This could easily be Governor Chiles and one of his grandsons.
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