Be careful who you call a Florida cracker. Some folks like to be called a cracker; others hate it.
It all depends on who is doing the calling and who is doing the hearing.
For example, if a black man calls a white man "Cracker", it is not usually considered a compliment. It is a word for "bigot", and is very derogatory in that sense.
If a Yankee calls a country boy from North Florida a cracker, it might not be well received.
If that same Yankee calls a cowboy from Kissimmee a cracker, it might be okay.
The term "Florida cracker" defies easy definition. Having said that, I'll stick my neck out and give you mine.
He or she is from a family that was here long before the huge population explosions in Florida after World War Two. He or she is almost always Caucasian.
They and their ancestors lived in Florida and prospered before the days of cars, highways, mosquito control, air conditioning, medicare, social security and government welfare.
Quite often they are defined as second, third, fourth, fifth generation Floridians, or even more. I know one man who is 7 generations removed from Captain Francis Hendry, a pioneer cattleman and the founder of LaBelle, Florida.
A Florida cracker usually has a rural upbringing, either on a farm or in a small town with plenty of woods and water for hunting and fishing and land for planting.
That's because a Florida cracker is self sufficient.
When modern civilization collapses, the Florida cracker will be hunting, fishing, trapping and growing his own food while the rest of us will be standing in line at the government owned grocery store with our ration stamps.
The Florida cracker usually has a southern heritage, and his ancestors sympathized with the Confederacy during the Civil War.
You might even find a Confederate flag license tag on the front of his pickup truck.
The first crackers came to Florida before the Revolutionary War when Spain traded Florida to Great Britain.
After the new United States of America won the war, the Spanish got Florida back again from the British. It went back to the U.S. again in 1819 and became a U.S. territory in 1821.
There are several versions. Here are four, but there are probably more. Somebody is probably doing a PhD dissertation on the subject even as I write this.
Florida crackers have their own language, and I've learned a few of their key words in my half century in Florida.
One day after a super heavy rain in Orlando, my Florida cracker friend Howard described it as a "litard knot floater". I needed a translation as I had only been in Florida a couple of years back then.
That's when I learned that a litard is a fat pine knot used like kindling to start fires. A fat pine knot is very heavy, and it takes a lot of water to make it float.
If you have been wanting to learn a second language, you could do worse than to study the Florida Cracker language.
Other cool words that are still being used by Florida Crackers include:
Some folks in recent Florida history that might be considered Florida crackers were former Florida Governors Lawton Chiles, Leroy Collins, Fuller Warren, and Doyle Carlton. They would be considered "Cracker Aristocracy" because of their education and positions.
Congressman Bob Sikes from the panhandle was the quintessential cracker politician. Although born in south Georgia, he spent most of his life in Florida.
Sikes referred to himself as the "He Coon" when talking about how he protected his brood of constituents.
Lawton Chiles used the "He Coon" reference in his final debate with Jeb Bush in the Florida Governor's race in 1994.
Chiles was behind in the polls and said to Bush during the debate:
"The old he-coon walks just before the light of day."
I saw the debate, and Jeb Bush looked puzzled at Chiles's he-coon remark. Most viewers were also puzzled. Chiles meant that even though he was behind in the polls, he'd make a comeback and win the election. And so he did.
When I first moved to Florida in 1960, I don't think there was a single Republican in any elected position. Almost all office holders and politicians were Democrats and Florida Crackers in those days.
The state was run by the "Pork Chop Gang", a powerful group of about 20 north Florida and panhandle cracker politicians who controlled the Florida legislature.
Members of the gang in 1956 are shown in the photo above:
Back row (L-R): James E. "Nick" Connor, Brooksville; L.K. Edwards Jr., Irvine; Irlo O. Bronson Sr., Kissimmee; W.E. Bishop, Lake City; H.B. Douglas, Bonifay; William A. Shands, Gainesville; W. Randolph Hodges, Cedar Key; Charley E. Johns, Starke
Front row: John S. Rawls, Marianna; Philip D. Beall Jr., Pensacola; Harry O. Stratton, Callahan; F. Wilson Carraway, Tallahassee; W. Turner Davis, Madison; Scott Dilworth Clarke, Monticello; Dewey M. Johnson, Quincy; J. Edwin Baker, Umatilla; Edwin G. Fraser, Macclenny; Basil Charles "Bill" Pearce, East Palatka; Woodrow M. Melvin, Milton; J. Braham Black, Jasper; J.C. Getzen Jr., Bushnell.
The Pork Chop Gang controlled the state because each legislative district had not yet been redrawn to reflect the huge numbers of people who had moved into central and south Florida. They began to lose their power in 1968 when a new Florida Constitution ended the apportionment that favored the small counties.
To hear some Florida Cracker language, check out this old video of Governor Charley Johns, a pork chopper, debating aspiring gubernatorial candidate Leroy Collins.
Another example of "Crackerese" is this video of a Carabelle, Florida fisherman named William Massey showing you how to clean a mullet without damaging the roe, also known as "cracker caviar".