Two times there was a wholesale destruction of Jacksonville's official records – in the War Between the States and by the fire of May 3, 1901. The author's effort in this work was to collect all of the available authentic matter for permanent preservation in book form. The record closes as of December 31, 1924. The record is derived from many sources – long forgotten books and pamphlets; old letters and diaries that have been stored away as family memorials of the past; newspapers beginning with the St. Augustine Herald in 1822 (on file at the Congressional Library at Washington) fragmentary for the early years, but extremely valuable for historical research; almost a complete file of local newspapers from 1875 to date; from the unpublished statements of old residents of conditions and outstanding events within the period of their clear recollection; and from a multitude of other sources of reliability. The search through the highways and the byways for local history was in the spare moments of the author stretching over a period of a score of years, a pastime "hobby" with no idea of making money out of it. No attempt has been made to discuss the merits of any incident, but only to present the facts, just as they were and just as they are, from the records and sources indicated.

Weona Cleveland was a journalist for more than 30 years at the Melbourne Times and later Florida Today newspaper. Her articles about local history and culture earned her a dedicated audience of readers. In 2006, the Brevard County Commissioners named her Honorary County Historian. This book is a collection of some of Weona Cleveland's best articles about pioneer life in Brevard, Osceola, Orange, and Indian River counties, including stories from Haulover Canal, Cape Canaveral, Bovine, and Rockledge.

This book includes an overview of the people, institutions, and events that shaped the establishment, growth and history of the African-American community in Orlando. We examine the creation of the neighborhood's educational centers, plases of worship, and businesses, and the irony of how desegregation inadvertently led to the decline of the community. Significant instances of racial unrest in Orlando that are often overlooked are detailed in this manuscript

Florida Historical Society Harry T. & Harriette V. Moore Award Drawing on previously unpublished sources and newly unsealed records, Judith Poucher profiles five individuals who stood up to the Johns Committee. Virgil Hawkins and Ruth Perry were civil rights activists who, respectively, foiled the committee’s plans to stop integration at the University of Florida and refused to divulge Florida and Miami NAACP records. G. G. Mock, a bartender in Tampa, was arrested and shackled in the nude by police but would not reveal the name of her girlfriend, a teacher. University of Florida professor Sig Diettrich was threatened with twenty years in prison and being "outed," yet he still would not name names. Margaret Fisher, a college administrator, helped to bring the committee's investigation of the University of South Florida into the open, publicly condemning their bullying. By reexamining the daring stands taken by these ordinary citizens, Poucher illustrates not only the abuses propagated by the committee but also the collective power of individuals to effect change.

The Civil War and Reconstruction changed the face of social welfare provision in the South as thousands of people received public assistance for the first time in their lives. This book examines the history of southern social welfare institutions and policies in those formative years. Ten original essays explore the local nature of welfare and the limited role of the state prior to the New Deal. The contributors consider such factors as southern distinctiveness, the impact of gender on policy and practice, and ways in which welfare practices reinforced social hierarchies. By examining the role of the South’s unique political economy, the impact of racism on social institutions, and the region’s experience of war, this book makes it clear that the South’s social welfare story is no mere carbon copy of the nation’s.