Fort Myers (Fla.) News-Press, Sat, May 23, 1970
LIFE OF ADVENTURE BEGAN FOR STROUP AT EARLY AGE
By: Betty Hawkins
A life of bold adventure began on a dark night in 1876 when a young lad bent on seeing the world beyond his father’s farm concluded that if he was ever to realize his craving he must run away from his comfortable but restrictive home. Larkin Moses Stroup, remorseful only at leaving his good parents, slipped out of the cabin, scurried down the lane to the wagon road and unhesitatingly turned southward.
Born in 1860 near Douglas, Ga, the boy had never before ventured far afield and his distant horizon was no further away than Florida. For years he had listened to tales of his many-removed forefather, Jacob Stroup, Revolutionary War hero, metallurgist and gunsmith credited with having established the first steel mills in the Carolinas and Georgia. The exciting stories fired his imagination and whetted his appetite for some outstanding achievement.
After weeks of trudging red dust trails and odd jobs which paid only enough on which to subsist, he reached Florida. He was already disillusioned with the glamour of being footloose but, strong willed, he refused to turn back. Too young to homestead he had no choice but to continue his wanderings until old enough to stake out a claim. Patiently he endured the aimless interlude and finally coming of age located a thickly wooded section on the Peace River near Cleveland.
He built a small one-room log shelter and began to fell timber, which he sold as fuel for steamers bringing citrus from the groves up river to the railhead. Industrious and determined, Larkin concentrated on earning a living and meeting the government’s stipulations for homesteaders. He had little time for much else until he became acquainted with winsome Claudia Baxter, who was journeying from northwest Florida to visit friends. They met frequently and, soon in love, made plans to be married.
Young Stroup owned no other conveyance than a wheelbarrow and in that he moved the happy bride’s belongings to his cabin after the wedding ceremony. Although only 16 years old the girl adjusted to the rugged wilderness living and was confident of her husband’s ability to see them through the lean time. Always regarding him with the deepest respect she never deigned to use his Christian name, but addressed him as Mr. Stroup. Larkin, though, playfully countering her formality henceforth called her Claude.
The income from timbering not adequate to support a wife he took a job working on the Atlantic Coast Line grade from Bartow to Punta Gorda. A good manager, Claudia closely guarded all funds and by the time their first child, Pearl, was born two years later they had sufficient savings with which to finance a long hoped for business. The claim now proved up, they decided to hold it as a haven if ever needed and, loading their possessions on their newly acquired oxcart, they set out for Fort Myers and new opportunity.
A wholesome, intrepid young man, Larkin Stroup immediately commanded the town’s attention and was recommended for the post of U. S. Marshall to which he was elected in 1888. Tabling personal plans he buckled down to the task of enforcing law and order on the then boisterous frontier. However, his dedicated efforts were interrupted when he was summoned to the Baxter plantation to manage the business affairs of Claudia’s aging parents.
Uncertain as to the length of time they would be away, Stroup resigned his office and, again piling their effects onto the ox-drawn covered wagon, headed out on the long trip to the panhandle. Claudia with little Pearl beside her drove the slow, plodding oxen and Larkin on horseback rode advance shotgun guard against marauders or highwaymen.
In due time Stroup had the situation under control at the plantation but he was required to stay on as overseer. Not content to have idle hours on his hands, he joined up as a lawman to patrol the territory bordering Alabama and Georgia, which was known for outlaws. In this dangerous occupation, he was often the target of renegades and more than once besieged by attackers, the family huddled on the floor as bullets whistled overhead. In spite of the lively frays Larkin emerged unscathed and, fearless, pursued his enemies until they were captured.
At the death of his father-in-law, he persuaded his wife’s mother, Charlotte Grant Baxter, to accompany them back to Fort Myers. Another baby, Rubie, had arrived and additions to the family began occurring at regular two year intervals, Big Mama, as grandmother Charlotte was called, helped with the rearing of their eventual five children while Claudia assisted her husband in their now materialized business.
Grateful for her mother’s guiding hand Claudia named a first son, Grant, for Big Mama’s blood relative General Ulysses S. In good-natured retaliation Larkin insisted their next boy be baptized, Claude Lee to at least in part, honor the great Confederate general. Their last child, a girl, posed no strain on political loyalties and they simply gave her the poetic name of Loie Mae.
On their return to Fort Myers, Stroup was again installed as U. S. Marshall. But now, an experienced lawman able to cope easily with matters, he had time to spare and began the operation of a ferry service across the Caloosahatchee. With the eruption of the Spanish-American War he sold his shuttle boat and enlisting in the First U. S. Volunteer Calvary, known as Roosevelt’s Rough Riders, engaged in the battle of San Juan Hill.
Claudia, again with child, took in sewing to support her little brood and for the first and only time gave way to a spurt of self-pity when she exaggerated to big mama. “Every time there is a baby on the way Mr. Stroup either takes out on the trail of fugitives or goes off to war.”
The conflict over within a few months, Stroup returned home to a career as varied and interesting as a patchwork quilt. He brought a general store in the area of First and Arson Streets, owned and operated three schooners which hauled supplies from the county seat at Key West to Fort Myers and engaged in cattle and horse trading with Cuba.
Later he extended shipping to Tampa but suffered heavy losses when two of the boats were destroyed. One was lashed to pieces by a hurricane and the second went aground on rocks off Sarasota during a heavy blow. Concerned only with the safety of his men he plunged into the raging sea, swimming more than a mile to shore to rouse help for the distressed vessel.
During his tenure as marshal he made headlines when he was almost mortally wounded in a dreadful hand-to-hand combat on the 5th of July in 1902 brought on by his letter of the law enforcement. He miraculously recovered with no more serious consequences than slash scars on arm and throat.
Through the years he invested in considerable property and also ran a livery stable. A temperate man he frowned on alcoholic drink and even disdained the innocuous new soda pops, which he deemed unnecessary. However, he did have two weaknesses - horse racing and strong language. The latter greatly distressed his wife and when she protested Larkin calmed her with the emphatic statement. "My dear, a man has to have at least one vice."
In the matter of the former he did not fare as easily with his Methodist minister. Chided for what the pastor believed to be an irreligious pastime, Stroup remained adamant, and as a result was excommunicated from the church to which he was devoted. The opportunity presented for reprisal itself when the cleric came to the stable to hire a rig. Coldly, but politely, Larkin refused him, asserting that such a good man would hardly want to ride in a sinner's buggy. The following Sunday he was graciously received back into the fold.
After Fort Myers was incorporated as a city he was elected police chief, an office he held until his retirement. Active in civic affairs he was a charter member of the council, county commissioner, a steward of the Methodist Church, Grand Master of Masonic Lodge, one of the builders of Lee Memorial Hospital and a popular people's choice for almost any position he was willing to accept.
One yarn repeated by old timers is that Stroup, returning from a vacation in North Carolina, learned the east end had seceded from Fort Myers and in his absence elected him mayor. Unwilling to divide his allegiance he lost no time in mediating reconciliation between the two communities.
A handsome, imposing man who sat his mount, "Sweetheart," as befitted a cavalry general, Larkin Stroup feared nothing until the Model T's first chugged into town. Reluctantly he admitted the machine age had arrived and, urged by the family, purchased on of the spunky little cars. Frustrated by mechanical operation, rather than commands, he one time left the auto in gear while cranking it. The engine started, the vehicle lunged forward and Larkin, hopping backwards and attempting to stop it with outstretched hands bellowed, "Whoa, dang you, whoa." Bystanders howled with laughter and that is probably the only time he completely lost his composure.
Inevitably, retirement age was reached, but Stroup far from ready to twiddle his thumbs became game warden and court bailiff. Interested in Indian affairs he worked in the Seminole's behalf, learned their tribal lingo and won the friendship of braves and chiefs. At last thoroughly acquainted with the mysterious workings of an automobile, he drove his car as jauntily as he had ridden his horse on his rounds through the uncharted glade lands.
Often he accompanied young Claude Lee who had turned from horse trading to auto trading on swap trips many miles away. On one epic trek they delivered a new motor car to LaBelle, received a second hand vehicle as down payment, drove that to Immokalee where they swapped for another used auto, then proceeding on to Copeland, traded again. Finally at Marco they made an out and out sale and finding themselves stranded without transportation hiked back to Fort Myers.
When downtown Fort Myers became more congested the Stroups moved from Hendry Street to a large house on Edgewood Avenue. As their family reduced in size Claudia and Larkin drew ever closer and more dependent on one another. Pearl married Frank Hibble, early guide and pilot. Rubie wed Charles Reif whose parents owned a hotel at Fort Meade and Loie Mae became the bride of Melvin Russell, school superintendent and ship's pilot at Key West. Claude Lee, part owner of the Royal Palm Motors, married Ethel Gorton, daughter of the north bank pioneer Alvin Gorton, and Grant after a hitch in World War I was plying his trade as aviation mechanic.
Quietly, the Stroups spent their last years together and with fortitude bore the tragedy of outliving two of their children, Grant and Claude Lee. After the latter's death his widow went to work in the Sheriff's department as a deputy and her two sons as well as the Hibble's child were a constant comfort to the bereaved couple. Rubie and Loid Mae living out of town came with their children to visit as often as possible and, too, helped to bridge the lonely gap.
In September of 1943 Claudia was stricken by terminal illness. The day before her death, shocked and overcome by grief Larkin told his daughters, "I can't go on without her. I am going to die of a broken heart," and retired to his room. One of the girls looking in on him later thought he was napping, but when he did not awaken she discovered he was in a deep coma. He never regained consciousness and followed Claudia in death exactly one week to the day at the age of 83.
The lone, direct inheritor of the Stroup name in Fort Myers is Claude Lee's son and namesake, who is operational manager for Gateway Transportation. He and his wife, the former Delores Sadler, live in a pretty new home on a portion of her pioneer grandfather, John Powell's original homestead off Bayshore road and are the parents of two grown children, Claude Lee III and Naida. His brother, Leslie, is a research consultant for the Raytheon Corp. in Barrington, RI, and his two surviving aunts, Rubie and Loie Mae live at Clearwater and Lakeland.
Early residents' reminiscence of Marshal L M. Stroup evokes memories of a figure colorful and dynamic as the legendary lawmen of the Old West. A following generation, unaware he was once an eminent man, fondly remember him as Dad Stroup, the kindly guard at county fairs who let more youngsters under the fence than through the pay gate.
LIFE OF ADVENTURE BEGAN FOR STROUP AT EARLY AGE
By: Betty Hawkins
A life of bold adventure began on a dark night in 1876 when a young lad bent on seeing the world beyond his father’s farm concluded that if he was ever to realize his craving he must run away from his comfortable but restrictive home. Larkin Moses Stroup, remorseful only at leaving his good parents, slipped out of the cabin, scurried down the lane to the wagon road and unhesitatingly turned southward.
Born in 1860 near Douglas, Ga, the boy had never before ventured far afield and his distant horizon was no further away than Florida. For years he had listened to tales of his many-removed forefather, Jacob Stroup, Revolutionary War hero, metallurgist and gunsmith credited with having established the first steel mills in the Carolinas and Georgia. The exciting stories fired his imagination and whetted his appetite for some outstanding achievement.
After weeks of trudging red dust trails and odd jobs which paid only enough on which to subsist, he reached Florida. He was already disillusioned with the glamour of being footloose but, strong willed, he refused to turn back. Too young to homestead he had no choice but to continue his wanderings until old enough to stake out a claim. Patiently he endured the aimless interlude and finally coming of age located a thickly wooded section on the Peace River near Cleveland.
He built a small one-room log shelter and began to fell timber, which he sold as fuel for steamers bringing citrus from the groves up river to the railhead. Industrious and determined, Larkin concentrated on earning a living and meeting the government’s stipulations for homesteaders. He had little time for much else until he became acquainted with winsome Claudia Baxter, who was journeying from northwest Florida to visit friends. They met frequently and, soon in love, made plans to be married.
Young Stroup owned no other conveyance than a wheelbarrow and in that he moved the happy bride’s belongings to his cabin after the wedding ceremony. Although only 16 years old the girl adjusted to the rugged wilderness living and was confident of her husband’s ability to see them through the lean time. Always regarding him with the deepest respect she never deigned to use his Christian name, but addressed him as Mr. Stroup. Larkin, though, playfully countering her formality henceforth called her Claude.
The income from timbering not adequate to support a wife he took a job working on the Atlantic Coast Line grade from Bartow to Punta Gorda. A good manager, Claudia closely guarded all funds and by the time their first child, Pearl, was born two years later they had sufficient savings with which to finance a long hoped for business. The claim now proved up, they decided to hold it as a haven if ever needed and, loading their possessions on their newly acquired oxcart, they set out for Fort Myers and new opportunity.
A wholesome, intrepid young man, Larkin Stroup immediately commanded the town’s attention and was recommended for the post of U. S. Marshall to which he was elected in 1888. Tabling personal plans he buckled down to the task of enforcing law and order on the then boisterous frontier. However, his dedicated efforts were interrupted when he was summoned to the Baxter plantation to manage the business affairs of Claudia’s aging parents.
Uncertain as to the length of time they would be away, Stroup resigned his office and, again piling their effects onto the ox-drawn covered wagon, headed out on the long trip to the panhandle. Claudia with little Pearl beside her drove the slow, plodding oxen and Larkin on horseback rode advance shotgun guard against marauders or highwaymen.
In due time Stroup had the situation under control at the plantation but he was required to stay on as overseer. Not content to have idle hours on his hands, he joined up as a lawman to patrol the territory bordering Alabama and Georgia, which was known for outlaws. In this dangerous occupation, he was often the target of renegades and more than once besieged by attackers, the family huddled on the floor as bullets whistled overhead. In spite of the lively frays Larkin emerged unscathed and, fearless, pursued his enemies until they were captured.
At the death of his father-in-law, he persuaded his wife’s mother, Charlotte Grant Baxter, to accompany them back to Fort Myers. Another baby, Rubie, had arrived and additions to the family began occurring at regular two year intervals, Big Mama, as grandmother Charlotte was called, helped with the rearing of their eventual five children while Claudia assisted her husband in their now materialized business.
Grateful for her mother’s guiding hand Claudia named a first son, Grant, for Big Mama’s blood relative General Ulysses S. In good-natured retaliation Larkin insisted their next boy be baptized, Claude Lee to at least in part, honor the great Confederate general. Their last child, a girl, posed no strain on political loyalties and they simply gave her the poetic name of Loie Mae.
On their return to Fort Myers, Stroup was again installed as U. S. Marshall. But now, an experienced lawman able to cope easily with matters, he had time to spare and began the operation of a ferry service across the Caloosahatchee. With the eruption of the Spanish-American War he sold his shuttle boat and enlisting in the First U. S. Volunteer Calvary, known as Roosevelt’s Rough Riders, engaged in the battle of San Juan Hill.
Claudia, again with child, took in sewing to support her little brood and for the first and only time gave way to a spurt of self-pity when she exaggerated to big mama. “Every time there is a baby on the way Mr. Stroup either takes out on the trail of fugitives or goes off to war.”
The conflict over within a few months, Stroup returned home to a career as varied and interesting as a patchwork quilt. He brought a general store in the area of First and Arson Streets, owned and operated three schooners which hauled supplies from the county seat at Key West to Fort Myers and engaged in cattle and horse trading with Cuba.
Later he extended shipping to Tampa but suffered heavy losses when two of the boats were destroyed. One was lashed to pieces by a hurricane and the second went aground on rocks off Sarasota during a heavy blow. Concerned only with the safety of his men he plunged into the raging sea, swimming more than a mile to shore to rouse help for the distressed vessel.
During his tenure as marshal he made headlines when he was almost mortally wounded in a dreadful hand-to-hand combat on the 5th of July in 1902 brought on by his letter of the law enforcement. He miraculously recovered with no more serious consequences than slash scars on arm and throat.
Through the years he invested in considerable property and also ran a livery stable. A temperate man he frowned on alcoholic drink and even disdained the innocuous new soda pops, which he deemed unnecessary. However, he did have two weaknesses - horse racing and strong language. The latter greatly distressed his wife and when she protested Larkin calmed her with the emphatic statement. "My dear, a man has to have at least one vice."
In the matter of the former he did not fare as easily with his Methodist minister. Chided for what the pastor believed to be an irreligious pastime, Stroup remained adamant, and as a result was excommunicated from the church to which he was devoted. The opportunity presented for reprisal itself when the cleric came to the stable to hire a rig. Coldly, but politely, Larkin refused him, asserting that such a good man would hardly want to ride in a sinner's buggy. The following Sunday he was graciously received back into the fold.
After Fort Myers was incorporated as a city he was elected police chief, an office he held until his retirement. Active in civic affairs he was a charter member of the council, county commissioner, a steward of the Methodist Church, Grand Master of Masonic Lodge, one of the builders of Lee Memorial Hospital and a popular people's choice for almost any position he was willing to accept.
One yarn repeated by old timers is that Stroup, returning from a vacation in North Carolina, learned the east end had seceded from Fort Myers and in his absence elected him mayor. Unwilling to divide his allegiance he lost no time in mediating reconciliation between the two communities.
A handsome, imposing man who sat his mount, "Sweetheart," as befitted a cavalry general, Larkin Stroup feared nothing until the Model T's first chugged into town. Reluctantly he admitted the machine age had arrived and, urged by the family, purchased on of the spunky little cars. Frustrated by mechanical operation, rather than commands, he one time left the auto in gear while cranking it. The engine started, the vehicle lunged forward and Larkin, hopping backwards and attempting to stop it with outstretched hands bellowed, "Whoa, dang you, whoa." Bystanders howled with laughter and that is probably the only time he completely lost his composure.
Inevitably, retirement age was reached, but Stroup far from ready to twiddle his thumbs became game warden and court bailiff. Interested in Indian affairs he worked in the Seminole's behalf, learned their tribal lingo and won the friendship of braves and chiefs. At last thoroughly acquainted with the mysterious workings of an automobile, he drove his car as jauntily as he had ridden his horse on his rounds through the uncharted glade lands.
Often he accompanied young Claude Lee who had turned from horse trading to auto trading on swap trips many miles away. On one epic trek they delivered a new motor car to LaBelle, received a second hand vehicle as down payment, drove that to Immokalee where they swapped for another used auto, then proceeding on to Copeland, traded again. Finally at Marco they made an out and out sale and finding themselves stranded without transportation hiked back to Fort Myers.
When downtown Fort Myers became more congested the Stroups moved from Hendry Street to a large house on Edgewood Avenue. As their family reduced in size Claudia and Larkin drew ever closer and more dependent on one another. Pearl married Frank Hibble, early guide and pilot. Rubie wed Charles Reif whose parents owned a hotel at Fort Meade and Loie Mae became the bride of Melvin Russell, school superintendent and ship's pilot at Key West. Claude Lee, part owner of the Royal Palm Motors, married Ethel Gorton, daughter of the north bank pioneer Alvin Gorton, and Grant after a hitch in World War I was plying his trade as aviation mechanic.
Quietly, the Stroups spent their last years together and with fortitude bore the tragedy of outliving two of their children, Grant and Claude Lee. After the latter's death his widow went to work in the Sheriff's department as a deputy and her two sons as well as the Hibble's child were a constant comfort to the bereaved couple. Rubie and Loid Mae living out of town came with their children to visit as often as possible and, too, helped to bridge the lonely gap.
In September of 1943 Claudia was stricken by terminal illness. The day before her death, shocked and overcome by grief Larkin told his daughters, "I can't go on without her. I am going to die of a broken heart," and retired to his room. One of the girls looking in on him later thought he was napping, but when he did not awaken she discovered he was in a deep coma. He never regained consciousness and followed Claudia in death exactly one week to the day at the age of 83.
The lone, direct inheritor of the Stroup name in Fort Myers is Claude Lee's son and namesake, who is operational manager for Gateway Transportation. He and his wife, the former Delores Sadler, live in a pretty new home on a portion of her pioneer grandfather, John Powell's original homestead off Bayshore road and are the parents of two grown children, Claude Lee III and Naida. His brother, Leslie, is a research consultant for the Raytheon Corp. in Barrington, RI, and his two surviving aunts, Rubie and Loie Mae live at Clearwater and Lakeland.
Early residents' reminiscence of Marshal L M. Stroup evokes memories of a figure colorful and dynamic as the legendary lawmen of the Old West. A following generation, unaware he was once an eminent man, fondly remember him as Dad Stroup, the kindly guard at county fairs who let more youngsters under the fence than through the pay gate.
A special thanks to my sister Jane for typing this. It would have taken me a week to type this with my one finger. Luv Ya Sis
As the Great Grandson of Ruby Rew Stroup, I found your story fascinating. My mother found the article and was so excited. We spent a whole evening talking about it and I learned more about my family in that night that I have ever known. My children where spellbound. Happy to give more information about our side of the family if you are interested.
ReplyDeleteWould love to see what you have.
Deletemike@stroupfamily.com
Mike Stroupe