In recalling a 1910 storm, the late Ossie Raulerson recalled a story about one of those colorful Okeechobee legends, Mart Manning.

"He was a commercial fisherman who was the first man who lived on the ridge section of the lake with his wife, Ella. That storm came in 1910 and he and his wife climbed up in a cypress tree and held on to the branches during the night. They say the next morning when they got down, they were bruised and scratched all over from the wind blowing them back and forth up in that tree where they were trying to hold on and keep from being drowned. "He cussed a lot. He had an old parrot and he taught that old parrot to cuss just like he did. It would say, "By God, honey old fella." He was a tough old man. The rumor was, at the time, that he got into a fight with a man and took a pocket knife and cut him to death. He (the victim) had a mustache and the wind blew his mustache and he (Manning) though he was still alive and cut him some more. And, that was why he was down there.

"He was an outlaw and all the outlaws came in to the ridge of the lake because no one could get to them. The only way you could get to the lake was by the Kissimmee River or Taylors Creek. If you wanted to go on the lake, you could come in on the Caloosahatchee River. All around the lake where people live now, they had old houses made of tar paper with a little lumber. They were safe because the law enforcement men would not go in there to start with and if they got in there, they couldn’t find anybody. The elderberries was higher than the ceiling all over this place. And, a little path (he gestured to demonstrate how narrow it was) that you went up and down. You didn’t even have a wagon road in there," he said.

"Have you heard about old man Mart Manning?" Rev. Henry Sloan asked during a 1988 interview. "He would call you "honey," and cut your throat. A fellow hit him one time with a pair of brass knucks, and when he got up, he said, "Honey, I’ll fix you." When he started calling you "Honey you had better look out. He would kill you. He was dangerous. He didn’t have respect for anyone.

"At a dance in Basinger one night, Mart was sweeting up to one certain girl. This didn’t pleasure Charles Montsdeoca, for he had figured she was his. They stepped outside to settle things and Charles walloped Mart on the jaw with a pair of brass knucks. Mart didn’t appreciate that too much, so he knifed Montsdeoca between the ribs. If Charles’ friends hadn’t pulled their guns, Mart was fixing to finish him there and then. After Mart had sobered up, he allowed that life was getting too blamed complicated in these Kissimmee woods, so for a restful occupation in a more quiet spot he joined up with a red-faced Swede and sot out some wing nets in Hole-in-the-wall down at Chancey Bay.

"The law didn’t never mess around the lake, so Mart felt safe in Chancey Bay till things cooled off up county, though he knew Charles Montsdeoca had a heap of friends. Mart was a-setting in his boat one evening placidly cutting bait when boldly stepping from the swamp, here comes a deputy, his tin star shining in the sun. He walked up to the boat and planted his foot right by the rifle which Mart had unthoughtedly left beyond reach. "All right Mr. Manning," the law man said. "You are pretty smart hiding here on the lake where you thought nobody wouldn’t ever find you. I’ve got a warrant here for you for trying to kill Charlie Montsdeoca, so you have just as well come along peaceable."

"The deputy, with mart’s rifle within his reach, hadn’t felt the need to show his own gun, and that was his undoing. Mart whirled around, pulled a revolver from his belt, and smilingly announced, "Honey old feller, Mart’s done served three long years in that there dam chain gain and he don’t aim to serve no more. Now, don’t you reckon you would live a heap longer and die a hear happier if you was to go back to town and tell them folks that you just couldn’t find old Mart Manning?" And so I guess he did, for nothing ever come of it."