Amelia
Now first wrote about Sara Alice Broadbent, one of the area's most
colorful characters, in 1988. Sara Alice lived on Crane Island, just
south of the Shave Bridge, throughout the first half of the 20th
century. She died under mysterious circumstances in 1952, when her
home was destroyed by fire. However, her body was neither recovered
or identified from the remains of the fire. No death certificate was
ever issued, adding to the rumours that perhaps she survived the
blaze.
Recently, thanks to Mr. Louis Zelenka of the Jacksonville Public
Library, we have received more information about the reclusive Sara
Alice and her strange lifestyle. The following notes were written in
1940 by Mrs. Alice Youngblood, who was lucky enough to spend several
hours talking with the normally-reserved Sara Alice. Enjoy!
Alice Broadbent - 62 years old, never has worn shoes, goes
barefooted all the time. Description: almost 5'3" - medium size,
coarse black hair (just a few gray hairs) pushed back behind her
ears - bangs, hair about to shoulders, brown eyes, weathered skin
always cleansed with homemade potash soap. Very high color on
cheekbones - salmon pink, nose also. Very wide mouth, few broken but
very strong teeth, cracks pecans with them.
Figure - very nondescript as she wears loose sack-like dresses made
of flour sacks, bleached white, buttons might have been picked up
here and there, sleeves between hand and elbow. Small, rough, sandy
feet, very wide at toes. Never wears woolen garments of any kind -
no sweaters, coats or anything, says "too many bugs get in woolen,
so I always wear cotton," probably thicknesses when very cold.
Lives on Island alone. Lived there with her father until about 10
years ago (?) think - check time. Very few people have ever seen her
- not over 10 people (think?) have ever been on Island. Crane Island
separated from Amelia Island by marsh over which one can walk at low
tide - no other approach except by boat and they don't dare land. No
walk or bridge or anything just footpath thru woods and over marsh.
I was fortunate enough to meet her this afternoon. Found her
sitting on the damp ground with her bare feet hunched up in front of
her. Sack-like (very clean) white dress made of heavy white sack -
never wears hat. She was at place near Amelia where my husband keeps
some of his hogs. He is one of the few people she will talk to - or
even speak to. I was almost afraid to approach for fear she would
leave. She is very unapproachable and very proud. Works for a few
old timers in the field - will not take any money only produce,
vegetables, etc. I approached her with utmost diplomacy. May I
digress and state that I believe I can get near characters - can
talk to them because I feel sure a great interest - not because they
are characters but because they are not like run of the mill people
we meet every day. So much more interesting, so human. I sat on the
ground beside her, we talked. I did not try to draw her out. I did
not question her, I did not appear overly interested, I knew that
like most, well, wild (only description I can think of) creatures
she must be allowed to feel very natural. She talked. From the talk
and from all I've gathered I judge she has lived on the Island
(Crane) always. She mentions things that happened 50 years ago, as
if it were yesterday.
Local people still speculate on the disappearance
of Sara Alice Broadbent.
____________________________________
Curses, often and interestingly, many hells and damns,
but it was not profanity, mentioned "my damned foot is this long" -
as she scraped in the ground around her feet.
Said "I am very curious about smells - my sense of smell is too
strong" - also "I stopped going to church because of the stink" -
she is a wild-woods creature and probably the various scents and
odors of powder, perfume, etc. might have "stunk" to her, used as
she is to the lovelier smells of her wild and flowering Island.
She mentioned the fact there were too many words in the
dictionary, that it, as well as the Bible, contradicted itself.
Her father must have been English as she speaks very broad
cockney English - does not sound her "h's" - "ouse" for house, "orse"
for horse, etc. When I mentioned that she was English - she looked
at me very calmly and with a certain withdrawal, and said, "Think
so? I don't" - I know that I had trespassed somehow, so for the rest
of the time I was on my guard - not at all inquisitive.
There was a pile of glass bottles that had been collected from
cleaning fields and in other ways, in one corner of the farm, and
she asked me what my husband was going to do with them. I sensed
that she wanted them so I said "Want them" - and she said "yes."
Gradually she seemed to gain confidence in me and like me. Told me
when she left that it was the first time she could remember that she
had ever "sat and wasted time" as she was then - I didn't know
whether to feel complimented or not. Whether she might not be rather
subtle - I very dull. However, I believe she liked me. Later, as we
walked to the highway, she stopped and picked up small broken bits
of glass - then she told me she was going to melt the glass and see
what she could make of it - that she had collected quite a pile.
Says she has an old forge on the place, old and rusty but that she
would try it out.
She asked me if I heard over the radio about 2 years ago where a
fire swept over her Island (Crane or Craney) from one end to the
other - I had not. I was afraid to even question her. Knows far more
than I about the laws and taxes, exemptions, etc. Has been to
Tallahassee - said she hadn't paid taxes since her father died and
would never do so.
Mentioned people stealing her dogs and cats - and stamps though
she never mentioned seeing them. It is said when anyone except a few
trusted ones approach her Island she appears from the brush and
woods with a shotgun. Some time ago a negro man was found drifting
in his rowboat near Crane Island. He was dead, shot. Some
investigations were made, but it all stopped. Never have proven how
or why he was shot. Rumor (such an ugly thing!) has it that he might
have trespassed, and Alice - of the eagle eye and stout heart - shot
him. This is terrible for me to even write - but rumor has it so. A
story is told of her (in her youth and I can imagine that she might
have been a pretty creature) when her father was living and had a
few visitors, that while her father and some friends were hunting
one of the men came back to the clearing near the house. Alice was
there, he tried to start a conversation, she was very noncommittal,
finally he stated "seems like a pretty girl like you ought to have a
feller" with that she leveled her shotgun at his head and kept him
standing until her father came back. Told her father she'd been
insulted.
Also when her father was living, they went to Jacksonville to
sell some mules. She walked barefoot all the way leading a mule. Her
father rode the other and walked. When they got to Jacksonville a
policewoman felt so sorry for her she took up a collection and
bought a pair of shoes, but when she in (I suppose) a patronizing
way presented them, Alice Broadbent very pleasantly told her to wear
them herself - she never had and never would wear shoes.
Crane Island lies between the
Amelia River
and the airport, just south of the bridge.
___________________________
She said she had an old coin - gold - but it didn't have
"In God We Trust" engraved thereon and she imagined it wasn't worth
more than its weight. When I told her I imagined it might be worth
very much more and suggested that she take it to the bank for
valuation, she said "they'd only take it away from me."
She keeps her own well dug, speaks of hard pan clay, etc. and how
she bricks and cements it.
If it were only possible for me to see her again. I'd, well I
just can't imagine what I wouldn't do if I could only visit her
island and home. It is a very peculiar thing - she can't be
questioned, and the few people who know her are of the type if
questioned would think you were trying to gain some secret
knowledge.
Wonder how I can go about it? I've promised to save bottles and
glass for her. When I left and as we climbed over the barbed wire
fence I asked her if we couldn't drive her part way home. I didn't
dare suggest that we drive her to the Island's edge for fear that
she might think I was presuming, and she said "NO! I'm not going
your way, I cut across the field here. Why should you go my way, you
don't live that way!"
And when I said, "Come to see me, I'd be glad to have you come" -
she said "Why? I'm not acquainted with you." I said, "You are now,"
and she smiled and was still friendly, in her way, and the last I
saw of her was as she jumped across a wide ditch on the side of the
road, and striding barefoot, confidently and sturdily, through the
stickers and blackberry briers and underbrush to the dense woods
bordering the marshland, miles towards Crane Island and home. What a
woman!
She does not drink coffee, tea or cocoa, says cocoa is bad for
the heart. Likes sassafras tea. Cooks pears whole with peelings on,
with eggplant. Thinks marsh hens "stink" and only fit for cats.
Cooks greens and sweet potatoes together. Never eats supper, goes to
bed "hungry" often, says she feels better.
Thinks marriage is a contract whereby wife gives up all of her
liberty, property rights etc. and gets little in return. She has
never married, or even had the inclination. Friend brings mail, if
any, to edge of marsh and she crosses and gets it.
When I told her she should have a radio with battery, she scorned
the idea. Said she wouldn't like it, she might not understand parts
and they would not be repeated whereas records can be played over
and over until understood. Says her land was not a Spanish grant but
a Federal one. She walks with a long stride planting her bare feet
firmly on the ground and looks straight ahead, scorning people and
things passing, mostly comes through woods, rarely walks on
highways.
Rumor has it that at one time Alice Broadbent was in jail here,
because people rowing or in boats near her Island complained of
shots coming very close. Nothing ever came of it, and she was freed
without even a trial I believe. However, what I'm getting at is
this, she refused to eat! Not a hunger strike, but because she
refused "charity." When told the County always gave food to people
imprisoned, that it was her due, she still refused and only ate when
the officials gave their word that they would take payment
(vegetable) and they said she continued to send vegetables (when she
was freed) until she paid many times over.
It seems the county officials feeling she was in need, have been
sending small monthly checks. These checks she keeps until she comes
in town, maybe for three months, and then returns them all. This she
has done repeatedly.
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