Preface
The is history my father wrote of the great famine as he experienced it and recorded in his diary. Here and there, he makes references to things from the Before Time which may not make sense to today's readers. In these instances, I have added my own explanatory notes in [ ].
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August 1 - Manatee Springs, Florida
I've taken up residence in the park's snack bar, named The Chubby Mermaid. The sign has a cartoon manatee wearing a seashell bra. There was a small band here already that took up residence in the abandoned trailer park about half a mile from here. Of our original caravan, about a hundred followed me all the way to the spring. I set my plastic Viking helmet aside for the time being, as my leadership is no longer needed. We are safe for now, have plenty of clean water, firewood, and wild game. People have planted vegetable gardens including potatoes. They grow well and should provide a stable food source. As for myself, I spend most of time catching fish and hunting wild boars. Their population grew during the collapse, and now herds of them wander the countryside. If I was a more industrious man, I'd catch some of swine and domesticate them. I figure someone else will do that eventually. I don't need to work much to feed myself, and any excess fish or game I barter for vegetables, ammo, or other supplies. I do most of my hunting with a bow now, thought I still carry my parents' pistol everywhere.
A few dozen other people have stayed with me all the way to the spring. We often have potluck dinners in the pavilion. Some people are still living in tents. My nearest neighbors live in the gift shop next to the snack bar. I said I'm willing to share the snack bar space with others, but they let me have it, I guess as a reward for leading them to this oasis. There are plenty of kayaks and canoes here, which makes it easier to find better fishing spots out on the Suwanee River. Everyone looks healthier. Lean, but healthy. Despite the lack of dental care, most people's teeth look good. I suppose it's from the lack of refined sugar. We can also bathe and wash our clothes regularly, which is a great pleasure after being filthy for so long. At the potluck dinners, I've said that we shouldn't get too comfortable. We're on a prime piece of real estate, and sooner or later, someone is going to try to take it from us. And then our only choices will be fight, flee, or be their slaves.
There is a large alfalfa field about a mile from the spring. We should graze cattle and horses there. The field is overrun with weeds, but it's still a good pasture. We still have some bicycles, which allows us to trade and get news from more distant settlements. Gainesville and Ocala are about as far as anyone's ridden. The coasts are much more crowded now. That's going to be an issue when the hurricanes come, but so far, the weather's been calm. Cooler temperatures mean fewer hurricanes. Even so, I'm glad we're far enough inland to be safe from any storm surges. When I lived in this area many years ago, three hurricanes hit close by, but the worst that happened was the power went out for a few days. Cedar Key is the biggest settlement near us now, and it is particularly vulnerable to hurricanes. I rode down there to check things out. It's a bustling fishing village, though many work on the clam farms. Barter is still common, but dollars are widely accepted. Although the money supply is stable now, food is still expensive. Everything else is even more expensive.
Sometimes I regret not taking my silver coins with me, but it was about 30 pounds and would have just made me a target. Food is still the most valuable commodity, though I'm tempted to say the famine is over, at least for now. The most important thing I learned overseas many years ago is that it's better to have lots of friends than lots of money. There are problems you can't buy your way out of. I remember reading about the various bunkers rich people built to survive the apocalypse. Even if they have several years' worth of food, whoever fled to such places has little chance of long-term survival. Mobs of starving survivors surely broke in, and what good is it to be billionaire when money is worthless?
Mormons were taught to keep a year supply of food for each person in their household, but I don't know how many actually did that. Anyway, they and the survivalists were concentrated in Utah and the Pacific Northwest. The winters there were harsh even before doomsday. Trying to raise food there now would be very hard, though I suppose there are bands of nomadic hunters scattered around. Those tribes are probably going to be independent for decades at least. If and when anyone ever tries to reunify the country, they'll have to fight hundreds of little wars just like in the Old West. Given the remote areas survivalists likely settled years ago, they've probably been forced to migrate elsewhere to avoid freezing or starving.
I suggested we build a wooden palisade to protect our settlement near the spring. Maybe we could charge outsiders a fee for water and fishing rights. I've heard very few gunshots since we arrived here, so it's been fairly peaceful. A trader from Gainesville visited us, and we questioned him extensively about what happened during the collapse. Gainesville had about 10 times as many people as Crossville, and Jacksonville is even bigger than that. He said there were armed clashes in Gainesville, and that was made worse by the large number of young people at the university. They formed gangs and fought hard, as they were healthy and had their whole lives ahead of them. The gangs formed along racial and ethnic lines. The white American Christians had the most guns and experience in using them, so they ended up pushing out most of the others. I recall seeing very few non-whites in either Gainesville or Cedar Key. In Chiefland, where I lived years ago, there was a lynching way back in 1927, and it still got talked about when I was there. In 1923, there was also the Rosewood Massacre not too far from Cedar Key.
He said that the cities of Tallahassee and Jacksonville have a black supermajority now, and whites are not welcome there. I imagine that's true of various other cities as well. Florida's Hispanic population has probably migrated to the Miami area. On the one hand, it's a city, but it's also warm and next to the ocean. The same is true of Tampa. So roughly speaking, blacks control the north third of the state, whites the middle, and Hispanics the southern. There was a low-level race war during the collapse, and I expect it to heat up in the coming years. The non-religious and pagans, being heavily white, will likely close ranks with white Christians when push comes to shove. Whites are still a majority though, possibly a larger majority as I suspect more of them have survived. They still have strong memories of the United States and will want to rebuild it.
Last month, we had a minor Fourth of July [an important holiday from the Before Time] celebration. We built a bonfire, had a feast, and fired a few shots in the air. I've had some success in organizing a small militia. We still keep a fire burning at night and always have at least one person walking around and keeping watch. During the many hours I've stood watch, the same questions of how to survive the future turn over in my mind.
September 1, 2027 - Manatee Springs, Florida
The settlement continues to grow. I estimate about 200 people live within a quarter mile radius of the abandoned snack bar where I live. A similar number live in the abandoned trailer park about half a mile away. There is a daily procession of people coming to fetch water from the spring. Sometimes they carry the buckets, other times they transport them in carts or wagons. There are some dogs which help guard us at night, and people have begin raising chickens for meat and eggs. There are pregnant women and some babies. Life goes on. In council meetings, we've agreed to expand along the banks of the Suwanee River. But that will take a long time. I hold an assembly each evening for those who wish to attend. I being with the words "Pay! Lay! Ale! Oh marvelous god! Hear the words of my mouth!" We then recite the pledge of allegiance in unison while facing the camp flag, which is the Jolly Roger pirate flag. This skull and crossbones banner is particularly popular among the young. There is a potluck meal followed by a ritual we call The Airing of the Grievances. It helps keep the peace.
A messenger on a bike came to visit. He said that to the south, a warlord who calls himself El Jefe [Spanish for "The Boss"] leads a small army of bandits on bicycles. When they come to a settlement, they demand food, ammo, and women, and if they don't get them, they attack and take what they want. Supposedly he commands a few hundred at most, but I doubt it is that many. A good rule of thumb when hearing news is "who wants me to believe this and why?" It's crossed my mind that El Jefe pays bike messengers to spread tales of his ruthlessness. In any case, we have been preparing defenses. One measure is that we have been lighting many more campfires at night than usual so as to make our numbers appear greater. This has created a virtuous cycle of attracting people who see the fires to our village. They in turn light more fires, and so on. There is a long, winding road leading up the snack bar area. On either side, foxholes have been dug. In the event of an attack, those fighting from those positions ought to slow down attackers long enough for people to escape in boats or deeper into the woods.
Additionally, a number of barriers which partially block the road have been placed at regular intervals. This slows down those coming to fetch water, but will also slow down any attackers by forcing them to make many turns. Our dogs will bark and the roosters will crow if the attack comes at night. Everyone who can shoot has either a gun or a bow. We've been having archery tournaments and have set a side an area for a range. Unfortunately, ammo is too scarce to waste on target practice, and even if we had plenty, there is no safe place we could put a shooting range. Some people have build stands up in the trees and turned them into watchtowers. On the whole, I think are defenses are strong, but against a large and determined enemy, the battle could go either way. There always unforeseen factors. El Jefe's men probably have combat experience on their side, but the spring is our lifeblood, and we will defend it to the utmost. The rabbit runs faster than the fox because the fox is running for his dinner, but the rabbit is running for his life.
We have acquired cows and goats, thus increasing our supply of food with meat and cheese. A trading expedition to Ocala returned with several horses. Hopefully we can put them to work plowing fields soon. Life is good in many ways. We have no taxes, no police, no courts, no jails, and no written laws. I expect that will change at some point, but for now, we are a tribal society. In order put the Christians among us at ease, I have begun wearing a large wooden crucifix on a loop of leather. Appearances can be deceiving, but they are what people usually go by. It's a small price to pay for greater social harmony. I've begun ending the evening assemblies with a chant I modified from the one I learned in Boy Scouts [a kind of paramilitary wilderness survival group from the Before Time]. It goes: "We are trustworthy, loyal, helpful, friendly, courtesy, kind, obedient, cheerful, thrifty, brave, clean, and reverent!" As a bonus, the chant acts as a shibboleth [a kind of password]. Anyone found by the town watch after dark is questioned. The guard shouts one word from the "we are" chant and the correct response is the following word. If they don't respond properly, we know they're not from around here, and more guards are called to investigate. But that's only happened a few times so far. In this way, we can make sure the only way to enter the village at night is to have a friend here who teaches them the passwords.
There seem to be a few who covet my authority, but so far, I have no rivals, and no has dared to challenge me. It helps that I keep to myself and only make suggestions. I trade favors and never expect to get something for nothing. I picked up a simple moral code from reading many folk tales. Putting them all together, the common lessons are: be polite, take risks, make deals. Those three rules are really about all you need in life. People here, particularly the young, spend most of their time practicing practical skills, but they also enjoy stories and lessons about different subjects. My niche is more of a storyteller and a teacher rather than a chief. Some days, I quietly fish at the Catfish Hotel sinkhole. Other days, I'm helping in someone's garden. There is a strong spirit of community here, and we all share what we have. Again, that will change someday.
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