“This is the most fascinating and peaceful place in the world to me. It’s rich in wildlife, history and infinite beauty. The great Okefenokee Swamp. The Land of the Trembling Earth. My name is Okefenokee Joe. This swamp was once my home. I lived here. I learned here. This is where I became… Swampwise!”

I was sitting at Reagan National Airport in Washington D.C. waiting for a flight back to Georgia when I learned about the passing of Okefenokee Joe. I wasn’t sure if it was true or not so I picked up my phone and called his number…

Okefenokee Joe was known across the state of Georgia, South Georgia in particular, as the host and narrator of Swampwise on Georgia Public Broadcasting. He was a musician, educator, conservationist, storyteller and notable cultural figure. Okefenokee Joe passed away on Monday, January 9, 2023 at age 90.

I would like to share my memories and personal experience with Okefenokee Joe. To do that I also need to share some factual information about him. First, let me simply state what a tremendous impact Okefenokee Joe had on a large number of people. We have truly lost a great man and a cultural icon.

Long before Okefenokee Joe there was Dick Flood. He was born on November 13, 1932 in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. From an early age he had a knack for guitar, singing, songwriting, storytelling and the outdoors.

Flood served in the U.S. Army during the early 1950s in Korea. After his time in the Army, Flood started his first band, The Luzon Valley Boys. By 1956, Flood was given a regular spot on The Jimmy Dean Show. From there he did various USO tours of Europe, Africa and Asia to perform for U.S. troops abroad.

He moved to Nashville, Tennessee in 1959 to pursue music. There he co-write many songs with Golden Era country artists such as Jimmy Dean, Bill Anderson, Roy Orbison, Fred Foster and many others. Flood also performed at The Grand Ole Opry nearly every weekend for two years straight between 1960-1961.

You can listen to his music here on Spotify.

After leaving Nashville in the early 1970s, Flood ventured south where spent many years in the Okefenokee Swamp in Southeast Georgia. He also spent considerable time in the Everglades in Florida. He would spend the better part of a decade living off the land in very primitive ways. He immersed himself in the outdoors and learned much about nature.

Flood eventually changed his name to Okefenokee Joe in the 1980s. He decided to share his knowledge of environmental and conservationist efforts and began speaking at schools, creating documentaries and appearing on Georgia Public Broadcasting shows such as Georgia Outdoors. Okefenokee Joe went on to win an Emmy Award for his documentary, Swampwise.

I encountered Okefenokee Joe as a young child. I remember watching his programs on TV at my parent’s house and finding everything so interesting and entertaining. He had a very specific mystique or persona about himself that was alluring. Okefenokee Joe embodied something like a mountain man, an old Indian chief and a great-grandfather all somehow rolled into one man.

Of course, the years passed, I got older and Okefenokee Joe became memory. One late night in the summer of 2021 Okefenokee Joe came up in conversation between me and my friend Nick. I told Nick I used to watch Okefenokee Joe on TV when I was growing up. I wondered if he was still alive and thought to myself just how many years had gone by. Sitting there on my sofa, I decided to look him up and discovered a Website and Facebook page. I located an email address and sent a brief message. I expressed how much I enjoyed everything he did and I proposed that we do a simple photoshoot. The next morning, to my surprise, I received this email from Okefenokee Joe:

Hey young Daniel Shippey! Glad to hear from you. And I thank you for remembering me. Sure I am interested in that photoshoot. I am not as pretty as I once was. I am now almost 89 years old and can't help the way I look (or feel). For the past three years due to a left hip replacement gone bad I have been a semi cripple. But I am real busy writing and promoting my books and recording some more of my original songs. Anyhow heck yeah I'm interested in that photoshoot. I live in the woods about midway between Augusta Georgia and Columbia South Carolina now. Phone # *** *** ****

Give me a call.

Okefenokee Joe / Dick Flood

I called Okefenokee Joe that day and had a wonderful conversation. The gravelly, baritone voice coming through the phone sounded kind and friendly. It was a little hard to believe it was actually him talking with me. We set up a date for the photoshoot and a few days later I was on the highway.

My girlfriend Olivia joined me and we left Tifton, Georgia early in the morning on August 11, 2021 to drive up to South Carolina. Okefenokee Joe lived in a very specific and unique fashion even into his old age. Once Olivia and I left the main highway we proceeded down a narrow, sandy dirt path that twisted through pine and oak trees. His house appeared in a small clearing. It was a small house built of wood with a red tin roof and a small garden nearby. Various odds and ends were scattered around the front porch. Barrels, baskets, old rusted saws, firewood, an American flag and three old wooden rocking chairs.

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I knocked and after a long moment the doorknob rotated slowly, the door opened and there he was… Okefenokee Joe!

He dressed in a tank top and shorts. His hair was pulled back and he wore a leather necklace bearing a simple image of an eagle. His eyes twinkled and he smiled broadly. He was very welcoming to us.

Okefenokee Joe used a walker to join us on the front porch. The three of us sat down in the old rocking chairs together. He continued to express how poorly he must look but we encouraged him and told him he looked absolutely fine to us. He was excited to have visitors and was eager to talk with us. We settled in and began talking about various things.

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I had my guitar with me and some papers of old songs I had written years ago. I haven’t really performed or played for many people over the last decade. Only here and there has anyone heard me sing or play the guitar. So, I opened my guitar case, gave fair warning that “this might not be very good” and played a song or two for Okefenokee Joe and Olivia. He seemed to like it and said something to the effect that I had a “young, strong voice.” 😂 I wasn’t sure what to think about that but was eager to hear him play.

After a while Okefenokee Joe invited Olivia and I to come inside to show us some of his songs and other things. He opened the refrigerator and offered us his leftover pot roast. We politely declined since we had already had food earlier.

Okefenokee Joe’s house was dimly lit but comfortable and cozy. We followed him from the kitchen, through the living room and in to a back room. Everything hit me when I entered this room. All of his accomplishments and knowledge was on the walls. The room also told me that he was still very actively creating and collaborating.

This room was decorated with relics of the past and present. There was a computer and microphone that he used for recording on the far side of the room. Native American items given to him by various Seminole people decorated all four walls. Some items he said were purchased at Pow-Wow gatherings but others were personal gifts including several pipes, flutes and knives. Brilliantly colored Native American inspired fabrics covered the windows and walls. Dreamcatchers with feathers hung from a windowsill. Books were everywhere, too. Some that he had published and others he had collected. And I couldn’t help but notice his old Martin guitar.

Photos of Okefenokee Joe posing with massive alligators and snakes were scattered here and there. Framed certificates, awards, plaques and newspaper clippings were all over the place. Two things that I took notice of were his certificate for winning an Academy Award for Swampwise as well as his induction to the Atlanta Country Music Hall of Fame.

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I asked him if I could take some photos and videos of him as we talked and he said that would be fine. I had already taken several photos of him on the front porch earlier that day.  

After being seated, Okefenokee Joe almost instinctively picked up the Martin guitar and began to fiddle with it as we talked. He offered the guitar to me and I hesitated at first but took it from him and gently strummed a few chords. This is a really old guitar. Not only that, it was the same guitar I had seen him playing in several photos from his time in Nashville during the 60s. Dick Flood played that guitar throughout his career and the thought crossed my mind, who else had played this guitar?  

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I handed the guitar back to Okefenokee Joe. He immediately started playing his well known song, Swampy the Dog, Skeeter the Cat and Me. You cannot help but smile when you listen to this song. It was an honor to have him play it live for us in the comfort of his home.

“Okefenokee Georgia. Population three. Swampy the dog, Skeeter the cat and Me!”

Okefenokee Joe performs Swampy the Dog, Skeeter the Cat and Me

After he finished playing he told us, “On my way south, when I was leaving Nashville, I stopped at the Okefenokee Swamp park and talked to the manager there and I told them I had left Nashville for good and he offered me a job. I said, ‘no, no I don’t know what I’m gonna do,’ but three or four months later I said, ‘what do you mean I can’t take that job!’” and he chuckled for a while and reflected before continuing, “I ended up working there at the swamp. That’s how I got there. That’s how it happened.”

“I carved a living out of life,” Okefenokee Joe said. “I’ve been Okefenokee Joe for over 40 years. I drove my car up and down the highways to different schools for 40 years. I’d do maybe 75 a year. I also did a lot of sportsman’s shows.”

He continued to speak and perform and had events planned well into 2023.

He talked for a while about the swamp itself. It was interesting for me because I have only visited the swamp one time for a brief visit. I have to visit again soon.

“When I lived in the swamp in Georgia most of the time I would cook over the open fire. I like it better! Inconvenient in some ways, or a lot of ways, but I like it. A minor inconvenience. I think it’s healthier too. That’s what I think. I call it the smell of freedom. You smell that wood fire?”

Okefenokee Joe lifted his head up and sniffed the air. And sure enough, his home did have a slight residual hint of smoke. It was comforting.

He continued with a laugh, “You gotta use the right kind of wood or else you’ll have a hell of a smoking fire!”

I asked him about his time in the Everglades. He went on to explain that he spent several years there as well. He once knew a Seminole Chief as a personal friend. Okefenokee Joe spent considerable time on reservations learning about Native American customs and culture. He became friends with many indigenous people in South Florida.

Okefenokee Joe shared wanted to share one story in particular: The Devil’s Garden

“Not many people know it today but way back in the early 1800s that area of Florida was known as the Devil’s Garden. One man was responsible for that land. One man, and he was known as the Devil of The Devil’s Garden. He wasn’t just a chief or a brave warrior but he was supreme spiritual leader of the Seminole. And his name was Abiaka and the white people called him Sam Jones. They named him after some famous Broadway show person or something. In Tampa he sold fish to the soldiers and settlers but was actually spying on them. Trying to check out what sort of weaponry they had and how they were trained. During his time he mapped out escape routes all through the Everglades. That’s how the Seminoles always escaped the army. If you look at the history of the Seminole Wars, almost every battle, the Seminoles won.”   Okefenokee Joe sat back for a while and continued, “He only attended one treaty meeting. Sometime around 1855 or somewhere around there. Abiaka didn’t like something that was said and when he stood up and the entire platform that the generals were sitting on collapsed. And then he walked out and never met with the whites again.”

Okefenokee Joe explained that the Chief he knew personally had allowed him special access to historic records and materials. The Chief wanted Okefenokee Joe to create songs, poems and prose to honor the tribe in a dedication of a monument to Abiaka. The Chief commissioned the building of a modern day mound site.

The mound supposedly has a group of statues to memorialize Abiaka and the various Seminole clans. He claimed one statue is a bronze structure of Abiaka that stands nearly 18-feet tall and faces to the east. Other statues are dedicated to the clans of the Seminole people. These statues depict the forms of a bear, panther, eagle, rattlesnake, otter, toad, deer and wind.

Okefenokee Joe wasn’t sure of the current status of the mound site and I am not either. He told us that there was never a formal public ceremony to dedicate the mound site. Therefore, the songs and stories he wrote for the occasion were never used.

Okefenokee Joe said, “One song is called The Devil of Devil’s Garden. You want to hear it?”

We said we would love to hear it and settled into our seats to listen. At first he tuned to his computer as if to play a recording but he waved his hand saying he didn’t need to play it because he could recite it as a story for us from memory. Okefenokee Joe began to speak:

“This is the bloody tale of the Devil’s Garden and the fearsome man for which it has been named. If you travel deep in Southern Central Florida you’ll be standing on this once hostile terrain. And the ghosts of all those haunted souls who died here are cursing and calling out his name.

‘Sam Jones! Same Jones! You Devil you Sam Jones!’ Mother, don’t be looking for me at Christmas. I won’t be coming home. Not until we capture that rotten Sam Jones.

The white man never understood the Glades. And the Seminole warriors moved without a sound. Many soldiers met their final fate in ambush and their bones will never leave the battleground. There, heaped in grotesque piles and left to rot. The Indians called them blue coat mounds.

‘Sam Jones! Same Jones! You Devil you Same Jones! You’re a murderin’ heathen savage for which you must atone. And one day we shall hang you, Sam Jones.’

The man of four souls, as people called him. His powers as a shaman soon were known. He could cast a spell that killed the soldier horses. And like a wisp of wind he would fight and then be gone. And it was true that he was feared by his own people but he lead them well as history now has shown.

‘Sam Jones! Same Jones! You Devil you Same Jones!’ Campaign after campaign the war dragged on and on because of the elusive Sam Jones.

The Seminole removal took its toll. The suffering and the pain and hatred grew. When those 40 years of bloodshed finally ended there came that bless’ed peace, long overdue. More than 15,000 soldiers lost their lives here. Sam Jones was never capture nor subdued.

And now you know the tale of Devil’s Garden and the fearsome man for which it has been named. When you travel deep in Southern Central Florida remember this was once hostile terrain and the ghosts of souls who died here are cursing and calling out his name.

‘Sam Jones! Same Jones! You Devil you Same Jones! You have won your people’s freedom. To the world let it be known you remain unconquered, Sam Jones.’”

Okefenokee Joe told other accounts of Abiaka’s mystical ways. He told another brief story about the Seminole people being backed up to Lake Okeechobee by U.S. troops and suddenly the Indians disappeared. It is assumed they used some sort of secrete trail or pathway to escape. The Florida Seminoles are known as the “Unconquered People” to this day. It was intriguing to hear everything he was willing to share about the Everglades.

You can find the story above in the form of a song via Okefenokee Joe’s website here.

Okefenokee Joe talked about his time visiting schools and speaking to children about various animals and nature. He was dedicated to educating people about the nature of the swamps.

“About everybody I knew is gone except for me. Everybody I knew in the Army, everybody I knew everywhere… In Nashville. Except for Bill Anderson. He’s the only one left alive that I know that knows me. I’m alone,” he chucked.

“But I’m alright! Even my friend Oscar up there, he’s gone,” he laughed again and nodded toward the photo of him posing with a giant alligator. “I’ll be gone too sometime soon.”

Okefenokee Joe was keen on spending time with his adult children in the months to come after our visit. He said, “I might even drink a beer and get a little silly!”

His mind was sharp and his wit was on-point. He loved to make people laugh.

Okefenokee Joe told us about his days on The Jimmy Dean Show. He told us about performing for two straight years on The Grand Ole Opry.

Somehow Little Jimmie Dickens came up and Okefenokee Joe said, “I used to eat supper at his house a lot. He was a good friend.”

“Heck, I was on the road with almost every act out of Nashville at one time or another. I got to know all of them and they got to know me. We got along pretty good. Almost every one of them are gone now. I know Bill [Anderson] is still alive. I think he’s younger than me by I think a little bit. I was on the Opry as a guest the first night he appeared on it. And I told him myself, ‘We oughta be calling you whispering Bill.’ I said that back then. I’m not claiming ownership to that idea but I said that to him way back then. ‘Cause he kinda whispered when he sang and spoke.”

Okefenokee Joe pulled out a book called “My Walk Among the Stars” that he had published. He thumbed through the pages and showed me an excerpt that quoted Bill Anderson in the form of a letter that he had sent to Dick Flood.

Okefenokee Joe (Dick Flood) is known to have toured and played shows along with Golden Era Country Artists such as Johnny & June Carter Cash, Patsy Cline, Red Foley, George Jones, Ray Price, Faron Young, Minnie Pearl, Ferlin Husky, Bill Anderson, Roy Orbison and many others.

Click on the photos to enlarge.

While we sat with him in the small room, Okefenokee Joe played countless songs for us on his computer that he had recorded the 60s until the present. He told us about how he was currently selling songs for TV shows. Some of the songs he shared were too personal to recount here in this blog. Some for himself as well as others he had written for friends.

He discussed the common issue songwriters have to overcome when they’re stumped about what the next line of a song should be should be:

“I get mind bogged every now and then. Just not sure about the next line to a song. It takes time. I call them God lines. Whenever I’m stuck… See, I’m stuck and I can’t think and I walk out of the room and go somewhere else and ‘Wow! There’s the line!’ and all of the sudden there it is. God gave the line to me.”

“I could never play very well. I was never a great guitar player. I was always a songwriter and a storyteller and an entertainer. Not a great singer, just a singer. I’m lost in the 60s. Lost in the 60s again!” he said laughing.

I told him how strong the messages of his songs were. That the words are the most important part. I also told him what a great performer and singer that he was.

The brand of country music Dick Flood (Okefenokee Joe) was gifted at has essentially vanished from modern radio but will never be forgotten. It holds a valuable place in history. Below are several of my favorite songs by Dick Flood / Okefenokee Joe.

Eventually the conversation shifted from Nashville back into his storytelling. He mentioned The Battle of Horseshoe Bend. The battle between Native Americans and the Creek Indian tribe effectively ended the Creek War in 1814. Andrew Jackson defeated the Red Sticks in what is now central Alabama.

Okefenokee Joe had another old Indian friend who had passed away years ago. He recounted a story that his friend told him about an ancient tree that supposedly still stands at the battlefield to this day.

The friend explained to Okefenokee Joe that his grandfather had taken him to the battleground and showed him the old tree:

“He said, ‘You see that big oak tree there? He says, that’s where General Jackson got up on those limbs right there and talked to his troops to give them orders for the beginning of the battle.’ So, I wrote this song about [what happened] all around that tree.”

Okefenokee Joe then recited “The Battle of Horseshoe Bend” for us” 

“It is said Andrew Jackson once climbed a tall oak tree. And from its sturdy branches, as far as the eye could see, there was a massive blue coat army, determined to defend its honor and its country in the Battle of Horseshoe Bend.

From that tree he shouted orders and soon the battle would begin. I remember each word spoken. I sat that close to him. Cannons roared destruction and ranks formed to attack. And as I watched I wondered, how many would come back?

And the muddy Tallapoosa would soon be flowing red with the blood of all the wounded, the dying and the dead.

In the early 1800s the Southland was the home of the great Creek Indian Nation and its boundaries were well known. Yet thousands of white settlers in haste to fill their needs would ignore the terms of treaties… And the boundaries paid no heed.

Some Creeks would befriend them. Even lend a helping hand. Others were determined to drive them from the land. These men were known as Red Sticks. The color meaning war. And each of them vowed to return to their ancient ways once more.

They built a wooden barricade across the neck of horseshoe bend, believing in the prophecy that they would be safe within. But Red Eagle warned Chief Menawa, and this I heard him say, ‘wooden walls cannot withstand the weapons of today.’

And the muddy Tallapoosa would soon be flowing red with the blood of all the wounded, the dying and the dead.

The Red Sticks were outnumbered by the soldiers three to one. Since they had few modern weapons they also were outgunned. Jackson’s friendly Cherokees and White Sticks then appeared. They had swum the icy river to assault them from the rear.

A bayonet charge was ordered! Now the fight was hand-to-hand. The blue coats scaled the barricade and chaos took command. I heard screams of pain and war cries and shouts of cursing men as brutality showed no mercy in the Battle of Horseshoe Bend.

And the muddy Tallapoosa now was flowing red with the blood of all the wounded, the dying and the dead.

The outcome was decisive. Andrew Jackson’s men had won. Red Sticks by the hundreds lay rotting in the sun. The Tallapoosa River claimed 400 hundred more. This carnage was the worst defeat of all the Indian Wars.

It was March the 27th. 1814 was the year. The Great Creek Indian Nation had lost what it held dear. All organized resistance from that day forth would end. Their Spirit had been broken in the Battle of Horseshoe Bend.

The victory helped turn Jackson to the highest office in the land. And where that slaughter took place a monument now stands to remind us our history and to honor those brave men who fought and died and gave their all in the Battle of Horseshoe Bend.

And me? I’m still standing in the spot I stood that day. The horror of that dreadful scene will never fade away. And it’s true that Andrew Jackson climbed that tall oak tree. You ask me how I know this? Well, you see, that tree was me. That tree was me.”

All I could say was, wow. It was a remarkable story and interpretation of the very real historic event at Horseshoe Bend.

“Imagine if trees could talk, man. Oh boy… Some trees are 500 years old. The stories they could tell,” he chuckled. “Well, there’s one that could talk. That tree is still there.”

All of Okefenokee Joe’s stories are worth telling. He knew life would likely draw to a close in the near future. He continually returned to this point through out the duration of our visit.

“I don’t know anyone but me now. I like it that way and I don’t like it that way. Nothing I can do about it so I might as well not argue with it,” he said smiling.

I reminded him that he had now met us and has us as new friends. He nodded his agreement.

“I’m going to let my hair grow until I die, by the way. I got a wild hair in my mind and I decided to let me hair grow until I die. Just for the plain hell of it.”

The three of us sat for a while longer chatting about various things. We eventually had to announce that we needed leave, of course. I was torn between wanting to stay longer and getting on the road. I told him we planned to go into Augusta, Georgia for dinner and a movie that night.

He responded with a smile, “I wish I could stay up and watch the movie! It has been good to see you both.”

I expressed to Okefenokee Joe how much we appreciated him making time to visit with us. It was interesting and very fulfilling and inspiring. Hearing him tell stories and talk about life was fantastic experience.

On the way out of his house I turned around once more to shake his hand with both of my hands. I told him, “This has meant a lot to me,” and he said “Same for me.”

I sent him the photos and video clips I took. I wasn’t sure if he was able to properly access them but a few months after our visit my phone buzzed and it was Okefenokee Joe calling. I answered and he told me he finally managed to access the USB drive I mailed to him. He told me how thankful he was for the photos and video clips and expressed again how much the visit meant to him. It was great to hear from him.

I had spoken with Okefenokee Joe by phone as recently as September of 2022. We talked about setting up another visit. Unfortunately that was not to be.

I wasn’t sure if the rumors of his passing were true or not so I picked up my phone and called his number…

The phone rang once or twice before someone answered. I could hear others in the background talking. I asked if Okefenokee Joe was around. The man on the other end of the line was slow to speak and not sure what to say. He paused and said, “No… He’s not.” The man paused again and asked who I was. I explained that I considered Okefenokee Joe a friend and told him about our visit in 2021. The man brightened up and told me that he was one of his sons. We talked for a while and he shared with me that Okefenokee Joe had “gone home.”

I’ll never see Okefenokee Joe again. What a pleasure it was to have met him. I’ll never forget that day.