Mark Woods' blog re: Stetson Kennedy, a national civil rights hero from "the planet Earth," who died here last Saturday

Mark Woods: Stetson Kennedy, citizen of the planet ... and North Florida
Submitted by Mark Woods on August 31, 2011 - 7:22am

Mark Woods' Blog

According to Stetson Kennedy's family, shortly before he died Saturday, a doctor checking his awareness asked: "Where are you from?"

"The planet Earth," Kennedy responded.

For a man who wrote hundreds of thousands of words in his 94 years, it was a fitting farewell, right up there with whiskey distiller Jack Daniel saying, "One last drink, please."

Stetson Kennedy spent his life trying to make the world a better place to live. So in a grand, philosophical sense, that seems about right. He was from the planet Earth. But there is little question exactly where on earth he was from. It was a place that he always loved, even when he found hate.

He was from Florida. Northeast Florida.

In a 2009 interview with the St. Johns Sun, he said: "I traveled later in life overseas and around the world looking for a place more Floridian than Florida. I found palm trees and bathing beauties, but after eight years I came on back because the weeds weren't right."

He explained that when you're crawling around as a toddler, then playing as a kid, you have an "eyeball relationship with weeds and a lot of other things."

So he preserved a patch of land and water and weeds in St. Johns County.

Not long after I made the switch from sports to local columnist, I spent some time tramping through it with Kennedy. At the time, Kennedy was in his mid-80s. And even with his body showing the signs of age, he exuded a toughness and confidence I only wish I had.

I could picture him going undercover and infiltrating the Ku Klux Klan.

I wanted to talk writing. And he said something similar to a quote from him that appeared in The Associated Press' obituary: "The truth of the matter is, I never aspired to be a writer - writing was a means to an end. I can't recommend it. There's no money in it."

That's part of what I remember. The other part is the homestead he called Beluthahatchee.

The historical marker at the site says author Zora Neale Hurston defined "Beluthahatchee" as a mythical "Florida Shangri-la, where all unpleasantness is forgiven and forgotten." Other stories say it's Seminole Indian for "heaven."

Once upon a time, it was surrounded by wilderness. Now it is tucked off Florida 13, near a Hess station, surrounded by suburbia. Which only makes it more precious, more heavenly.

Before visiting Kennedy there, I had driven by it many times, oblivious to its existence.

A drive down a dirt road led to a rickety house, perched on stilts, full of books and odds and ends. The back deck overlooks the Beluthatchee Lake and some of the 70 acres he bought in 1948. He sold most of it, but kept 4 acres for himself, eventually stipulating that it become a public park and museum after his death.

This land was his land. Now it is yours.

You can still picture Woody Guthrie writing and singing and skinny-dipping here. It is a place that feels like old Florida, with all kinds of wildlife and vegetations. Oaks, saw palmetto, magnolia, cabbage palms and weeds.

Don't forget the weeds.

Stetson Kennedy never did.

mark.woods@jacksonville.com, (904) 359-4212