The panhandle of Florida is known as the “slow” part of the state. Probably rightly named – lifestyles are slower, rivers are slower, and the culture calls for a slow, unhurried pace. People like it that way.
In the early 1900s, the town of Blountstown sat in the middle of slow. It was a small, poor, farming community in which people scratched the ground just to make it…and they relied on each other. Families were large and close. Farm work was hard, and it took them all to get the job done each day.
In 1910, there were no telephones in the farm houses, and no one who lived in the country had cars or electricity. Horses and wagons were the means of transportation and oil lamps provided light.
What people depended on were their crops. Corn was like gold. That was the beginning of the trouble between the Whittingtons and the Johnsons. The Whittingtons were headed by 75-year-old James – his son John was his right-hand man.
James, born in 1835, served as a horseman in the Florida Confederate Cavalry during the Civil War. He had been around a long time, seen some suffering, and was tough as beef jerky.
The Johnson tribe wasn’t headed by a man. The matriarch was Elizabeth, known to all as “Sis.” Her son, Ceph, was always with her. And, an employee – some say also her son-in-law, was the loyal Monroe Bess.
Sis was born in Georgia in 1852, making her sixty-two years at the time of the incident…and people didn’t often live to that age. She must have been a tough woman to live that long in harsh conditions and to head the Johnson clan. But she ruled.
The trouble began in December, 1910. Whether is happened or not is not known, but Sis accused James Whittington of taking her stored corn. James dismissed it, but Sis didn’t.
So, on the evening of December 23, The Whittingtons had company over, and they were enjoying the cold weather and the Christmas spirit. James, John and Mrs. Stone – John’s granddaughter, were all seated around the fireplace in the living room. Suddenly, the door burst open and a gunshot rang out. The Whittingtons looked up to find Bess Monroe holding the smoking gun. John, who received the bullet, jumped for his own gun, just as Ceph Johnson stepped into the room and aimed at John. But John was faster and shot Ceph, killing him. That shot caused Sis to step in with her 12-gauge shotgun and empty a load into James just as he was getting out of his chair. The old man, who had seen bad times, experienced hunger, and fought valiantly, was dead before he hit the floor.
That was enough for Mrs. Stone, who expected to feel another round of buckshot at any second. Mrs. Stone made herself scarce out the back door and kept running.
“Kill-em” shouted the matriarch. “Kill-em all!” At that, Bess followed Mrs. Stone into the back yard and fired, but missed her. She kept running.
After hearing the exchange of gunfire, townsfolk came running and arrived within a few minutes. They saw the two dead combatants, and a dying John on the floor.
After a neighbor looked at John’s condition, he confirmed what John already knew – it wouldn’t be long until he followed his father into Glory. Asked what happened, John gave his dying declaration that Mrs. Elizabeth Johnson killed his father, that he killed Ceph Johnson in self-defense, and that he shot Sis, but missed, and, had he not missed, his father would be alive. He also said that, after the shooting, the Johnson’s “stamped” on him.
He died later that day, the third in the melee.
Sis and Bess were arrested on three first-degree murder charges and awaited trial.
Bess, seeing his future with a noose, pointed a quick finger at the old woman. Maybe he thought that she surely wouldn’t be executed if found guilty. After all, the state of Florida had never executed a woman before. Women were thought to be too frail and dainty. They obviously hadn’t met Sis Johnson.
At the trial, the evidence was overwhelming. It didn’t take the jury long to find Sis Johnson guilty – without a recommendation for mercy. In those days, guilty of first-degree murder without mercy meant only one thing – an appointment with the hangman’s noose. Actually, Florida law mandated that the sheriff had to pull the lever to drop the floor from under the accused in those cases.
An appeal was made. The Florida Supreme Court overturned the conviction, sending the case back for a second trial. Again…guilty of First-degree murder without mercy. Back to considering her neck size.
A second appeal got the case overturned again and sent back for a third trial. This time, however, the jury found her guilty of Manslaughter. The judge sentenced the now sixty-three-year old woman to serve six years in state prison. Less than three years later, on April 20, 1918, she was released on a conditional pardon.
The quiet, once peaceful community soon began to heal. Today, nothing can be seen of the crime scene. But the memories of the Whittington and Johnson feud lingered for many years…maybe still.
About the Author
Michael Earl Simmons is a renowned Southern crime storyteller, historian, and Director of the George Stone Criminal Justice Training Center in Pensacola, Florida. As a recognized authority on Northwest Florida’s police and crime history, he has authored fourteen books including Pensacola’s Finest: The Story of the Pensacola Police Department and I’m a Dead Man: The link between the John F. Kennedy Assassination and the Unsolved Murder in Pensacola. He has written hundreds of blog posts and articles, including on subjects such asTed Bundy andJudi Buenoano, The Black Widow. Through his website, Sweet Tea Murders (sweetteamurders.com), he delivers daily chronicles of true old Southern crimes—murders, disappearances, and enduring mysteries—served with the region’s signature blend of hospitality and intrigue. Follow him on X at @mikesimmons232 or Facebook at Sweet Tea Murders, for more insights into the shadows of Southern justice.
References
The Jacksonville Journal, Page 6, October 9, 1912
The Florida Times-Union, Page 15, April 25, 1912
The Tampa Bay Times, Page 3, April 25, 1912
Pensacola News Journal, Page 3, April 20, 1914
The Tampa Tribune, Page 11, December 24, 1914
Case-law.vlex.com
Thanks for your interesting history. What do you know about “Moonshiners” around NW Fla And South Alabama (Covington Co, ). Thanks.