Deaconess Bedell: “The Most Wonderful, Generous Person”

As Collier County observes its centennial, Deaconess Harriet Bedell continues to live on in the hearts of pioneer-era Marco Islanders who were ministered by her in the 1940s and 1950s. But the deaconess is also famous for her work with the local Seminole, Mikasuki Seminole, and Miccosukee Tribes in Collier County. The deaconess arrived in Collier County in 1933, and Hurricane Andrew hastened her departure in 1960.

 "She was the most wonderful, generous person,” said Barbara Weeks Hall Dewey, who was born and raised on Goodland starting in the late 1940s. "She worked with the Native Tribes. They just worshiped her. She was just a superwoman.”

Deaconess Bedell arrived in Collier County in 1933, just 10 years after the county’s founding. She was called on to run the Glade Cross Mission in Everglades (now known as Everglades City). She became perhaps the county’s most beloved person, working with the Seminole, Mikasuki Seminole, and Miccosukee Tribes, pioneer-era Marco Islanders, and inmates at the Collier County jail.

Charlton W. Tebeau paid homage to Deaconess Bedell in his seminal book on Collier County, Florida’s Last Frontier: The History of Collier County. 

"The Glade Cross Mission Headquarters in Everglades,” Tebeau writes, “is presided over by Deaconess Harriet M. Bedell of the Episcopal Church. A great many visitors from far and wide have heard of this famous Collier County institution. It might be said that the deaconess herself is an institution. Certainly, she has been the heart and soul of the mission since 1933. Most people probably do not realize that its origin dates back almost to the beginning of white settlement in the county. The mission began as part of the national movement in the final quarter of the last century to do something about the ‘Indian problem.’ It was a product of an awakened social conscience that sought to undo some of the wrongs that had been done to these First Americans.”

Memories of Deaconess Bedell remain strong, especially for those in Goodland whom she influenced.

“She was always a special person in my eyes,” said Annette Tindol, 85, who was born on Marco Island in 1938, "it stuck in my mind as a child. It’s just indelible. It just won't leave. Deaconess Bedell was, of course, missionary to the Seminoles. At that time, the only thing that I knew about Seminole was their camp that was across from Royal Palm Hammock. I went to Miss Alice's store, the service station. We could see them out there. I never did actually go into the camp. I don't know if Mom or Daddy ever did or not, but I didn't. But Deaconess Bedell would go out there and I heard when I was a kid that she had taught them how to bathe their babies with soap rather than sand."

Royal Palm Hammock is located adjacent to the intersection of the Tamiami Trail (U.S. 41) and County Road 92 (now known as the back road to Marco Island). Tindol recalls going to the Royal Palm Hammock Station. Today the historic building operates as a Texaco station. The Royal Palm Hammock Station was built in the 1920s as part of county founder Barron Gift Collier's plan for the Tamiami Trail. Named after Tampa and Miami, the Tamiami Trail became the highway across the Everglades that linked Miami to the west coast of Florida. Royal Palm Hammock Station was one of six outposts, spaced at 10-to-12-mile intervals, stretching from Naples to Miami. The Royal Palm Hammock Station is the only one of the six outposts that is still standing in its original location. Although it’s been modernized, you can still see many vestiges of 1920s-era Collier County throughout the property. In their heyday, the outposts were manned by couples who lived upstairs. The outposts sold groceries, gas and provided public restrooms. The men patrolled the Tamiami Trail on Harley Davidson motorcycles and are considered to be Collier County’s first law enforcement.

Tindol remembers the deaconess visiting her Marco Island school, the Scripps school, when she was elementary school-aged.

“She would come to our school and teach us some of the tribe's ways,” Tindol recalls, “their everyday lifestyle.”

Tindol said the children received real life lessons from the deaconess.

"After the two schools closed in my era,” Tindol said, "everybody from Caxambas, Goodland, and Marco went to school at the Scripps school.”

In the pioneer years of Marco Island, prior to modern development in the mid-1960s, Marco Island consisted of townsites at Marco (now Old Marco), Caxambas, and Goodland. Most of the homes in Caxambas were moved by Barron Collier to Goodland in 1949 in a famous location swap that gutted the Caxambas townsite but populated the townsite of Goodland.

Tindol vividly recalls the deaconess and her school lessons.

"She was always dressed in her long Episcopal robe,” Tindol said. "She always wore her rosary. And she had a habit on her head. That's the only way I ever saw her dressed. Miss Deaconess Bedell came in and told us about the way the Native Americans cooked fish. She taught us how they built their dugout canoes. She put it into practice and let us experience it."

Tindol said the deaconess taught the elementary school-aged children how to carve out miniature canoes and how to cook fish in the ground.

"I remember when we built dugout canoes,” Tindol said. “They were just little logs. She would tell us about burning them. I don't remember if we burned them or if we just carved them out. But they had the indenture in them, an opening in the center they clean out and put their seat in. I had one of those little canoes for a long time, and I don't know what happened to it.

“She showed us how to dig a hole in the sand,” Tindol said, "I can't remember what we put down in it, whether it was banana leaves or what it was, but we put something down in the hole, and then we put the fish down in it and covered it back up with sand. Then when it was cooked, we took it out."

Tindol respected the deaconess.

“She was a very meek woman who was very modest, mannerly, considerate,” Tindol said. "I thought of her as being very educated. She knew so much. So many interesting stories that she told us. She came across as quite intelligent. She was just a humble lady."

Weeks Hall Dewey was profoundly influenced by Deaconess Bedell, who spent a lot of time on Goodland.

“She had a house in the Everglades,” Weeks Hall Dewey said. “But she would come over on the weekend for church at the Mission of our Savior. I was married in that church. She would do Sunday school and church. And then every Sunday, she would visit somebody's house to eat with them. She would sleep at the church and go back to the Everglades on Monday morning. And once a week during the summer, I would get to go over and stay with her. The Native Americans would come and bring their skirts and all their wares and stuff for her to sell. And she always let me pick out a Native-made skirt when I went to stay with her.”

Weeks Hall Dewey said her family was not rich in material terms. She remembers the deaconess helping her parents during a pivotal time in their lives.

“My dad grew up in Marco,” she said. "So did his grandparents, and so did his parents, all from Marco Island. And my mom was born in the 10,000 Islands. She came to Marco when she was around 12. And that's when mom and dad met. They knew the deaconess their whole life. And when they got married, they didn't have enough money to even buy their marriage license. So she bought their marriage license for them. She was one of a kind."

Weeks Hall Dewey remembers the deaconess as her Sunday School teacher.

“If she caught us chewing gum,” she said, “she'd make us stand up in front of the class and put gum on our nose. She said, ‘You look like a cow chewing your cud.”

Weeks Hall Dewey’s younger sister, Linda Weeks Rose, also has strong memories of the deaconess at the Mission of Our Savior.

“After church on a lot of Sundays she would come to the house,” Linda Weeks Rose said, "She would come to the house for dinner. My mom, Cecelia Weeks, made her habits. I remember she was a strict Sunday school teacher. But her teachings have stuck with me my whole life. I would say she was very effective. She did such good work throughout her lifetime.

"I was only about five or six,” Weeks Rose said, “so I mostly remember her coming to our house to eat. As a young child, I was amazed by her - everything she seemed to do."

"Everybody on the whole island knew her,” Weeks Hall Dewey said, "and they had fixed times for every weekend. She would go to somebody's house to eat."

"I remember mom painting that church before my sister was married there,” Weeks Rose said. "Mom was given the cross from the altar and I still have that. It's in poor condition after all these years. I still have the bibles that Ms. Deaconess - that’s what we called her - gave to my older brother and my mom. I also have a postcard that she sent my mom.”

But even a Superwoman like Deaconess Bedell has to have a weakness. After all, even Superman had his kryptonite. It was the automobile that gave Bedell trouble.

“The only bad thing about her,” Weeks Hall Dewey laughs, "is everybody got off the road when they saw the deaconess coming. I had to drive all the way to the Everglades with her. She would push her foot all the way down to the floor and then let up all the way, down to the floor and let up. That's the way she drove.” 

Faye Brown was born in the Marco township in 1942. She remembers a story about Deaconess Bedell’s driving, told to her by her aunt Hazel Pettit Griffin. 

“Aunt Hazel was my mom's first cousin,” Faye Brown said. "Our families were close, and Aunt Hazel shared a few stories with me from time to time. She was a county nurse and became the head of the Collier County welfare program. She worked with the deaconess on several occasions.

"One story that she shared was about a trip to Key West to attend court. They went together in the deaconess' old car. I remember seeing her drive it onto the Island from time to time. I believe it was an early model Ford with a sun visor across the top of the windshield. She drove very slowly everywhere she went. It didn't matter that she was on the one and only highway from Collier County to Key West, Florida, with only two lanes at the time. There were many wooden bridges to cross, making it hard for anyone to pass a slowly driven vehicle. Aunt Hazel said that she didn't think they would ever get to Key West in time for the court appearance. Apparently, the driver of a semi tractor-trailer came along behind her. When they would come to the bridges, she would drive down the center of the road. Aunt Hazel would look back at the impatient driver with a smile and give him a little wave of the hand. When they finally arrived to the courthouse, the parking lot was filled, but since the famous bar next door, Sloppy Joe’s, was only open for the evenings, they had an open parking lot. The deaconess, not wanting anyone to see her car parked at a bar, decided to drive a block away to find parking. Aunt Hazel was dressed in her high heel shoes. She told me that by the time they had walked back to the courthouse, her feet were killing her, and she could hardly walk. I just imagine that those truck drivers watched out for that old Ford car on Highway 1."

Deaconess Bedell was so revered in Collier County that the Museum of the Everglades at one time sold Deaconess Bedell dolls.

 "I still have mine in a box,” Weeks Hall Dewey said. “It's probably about 12” tall. It has her habit, her little cross chain that she always wore. I mean, it's a spitting image of her. My mother got my sister and I one. I've had this doll for 25-30 years.”

When Hurricane Donna hit in 1960, the deaconess’ house was badly damaged. It was then that the deaconess decided to move on. But she didn’t forget her kids in Goodland.

“They tore down the Mission of Our Savior after she went to the deaconesses home when she was in her 90s,” Weeks Hall Dewey said. "For a long time after that, she sent me these little weekly reader types for kids. Once a month, she had them sent to me. And I got the church bell. That bell traveled with me all over the countryside. It was solid brass. She's a person that I can never forget in my whole life. I forget what I had for dinner, but I can never forget this lady. She was wonderful."