Page 71 of Camino Ghosts

“That’s close enough.”

“Big deal. Half the bar now solicits cases. Haven’t you seen the billboards? Please move along.”

Monty kept smiling and said, “Sure, Judge. I agree with Mr. Killebrew that we need to get back to the law, and it’s very simple. To prevail on the grounds of adverse possession, a person must possess the property openly, actually, notoriously, exclusively, and continually for seven uninterrupted years before filing suit to confirm title. Seven years ago was 2014. There’s not one shred of evidence, not even from Ms. Jackson herself, that she has been to Dark Isle, for any reason, in at least ten years. Maybe twenty. Maybe thirty.

“The island has a fascinating history, Your Honor, but it’s just that—history. With a lot of gaps in it. We urge you to stick to the law and award title to the state of Florida.”

Judge Burch closed his notebook and said, “Anything else, gentlemen?”

Nothing.

“All right. Congratulations on a case well tried. As an old judge who’s refereed many cases, I always appreciate good lawyers. Thank you for your professionalism. I’ll have a decision within thirty days.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

A NEW FOUNDATION

1.

The first bombshell landed the following day when The New York Times ran a front-page story about the trial. It was below the fold, and the most startling aspect of it was a large color photograph of Lovely Jackson entering the courthouse the day before. She was wearing one of her standard robes, a bright yellow one that trailed to the ground and seemed to glow, and a baby blue striped turban. She offered a winsome smile at the camera.

The story by Thalia Chan made no pretense of being balanced. The headline was “African Burial Site Thwarts Land Grab by Florida Developer.” For Tidal Breeze, it was all downhill after that. The company was portrayed as another slash-and-burn developer hell-bent on cashing in on the casino craze. An unnamed source said Tidal Breeze coveted the Atlanta gambling market and had found the perfect spot just south of the Georgia state line. Another source (no doubt Gifford Knox) said the company had a dreadful record of environmental problems and would destroy the island and the waters around it. Ms. Chan did a passable job of laying out the facts and describing the trial. The bulk of her story, though, was about African burial grounds and the efforts to find and preserve them. She talked to Dr. Sargent of Howard University, who described the cemetery on Dark Isle as “a major find on one of the most unique places in the history of American slavery.” Marlo Wagner of the African Burial Project was thrilled with the discovery and promised her full cooperation in stopping any development. Florida’s three black congressmen promised a federal investigation into the “desecration of hallowed ground.” The longer the story went, the more race became a factor. The executive director of Florida’s NAACP promised swift action. The chairwoman of the Black Caucus in the Florida legislature vowed that if the Court awarded title to the state, the state would never sell Dark Isle to any developer. It must be preserved. The battle lines were clear, with no room for gray areas. A rich white corporation was attempting to take historically significant land once owned by former slaves.

2.

Mercer couldn’t write fast enough. The trial had pushed her into overdrive and she worked through the nights. Now the story was suddenly national, and as she struggled to absorb the flood of new material, she feared getting lost in it. She was also worried that too much exposure might dampen interest in her book, whenever it was published. Thomas reassured her that the publicity would only heighten awareness of Lovely’s story.

Mercer called Miss Naomi and urged her to ask Lovely to avoid talking to anyone. Though reporters could not get her on the phone, they might try and find her in The Docks. Just keep the door locked and avoid strangers.

Late in the afternoon, Mercer and Thomas met Steven, Diane, Bruce, and Gifford at the patio bar of the Ritz-Carlton, away from downtown and prying ears. The story by Thalia Chan had gone viral and they felt like celebrating. Gifford confessed that he had introduced Thalia to the story, and once she realized its potential, he fed her bits and pieces of inside info.

Bruce, ever the bookseller, had already contacted Lovely’s vanity publisher and ordered five hundred more copies. His thin supply sold out before lunch and he was expecting a wave. And he wanted to talk to Lovely about another signing, as soon as possible.

How might the news affect Judge Burch’s decision? Steven had mixed feelings. The case was not complicated and he expected a decision soon enough. The trial had gone their way because of Lovely’s performance on the stand, but the law was not squarely on their side. There was no doubt that neither Lovely nor anyone else had claimed the island in the past seven years.

Steven took a drink and said with a smile, “Regardless, folks, this little brouhaha is over. My phone is still ringing. The African burial folks have gone ballistic. The environmentalists are cheering them on. The politicians and civil rights groups can’t wait to get involved. There’s no way Tidal Breeze can survive the attacks.”

“So we’ve won?” Bruce asked.

“Yes and no. My best guess is that Lovely has a fifty-fifty chance of prevailing. But if she loses, she still wins because the state will either yield to pressure and back down, or sell to Tidal Breeze and then watch from the sidelines as the litigation roils for the next ten years. In the end, no federal court in the country will allow an historic burial ground, especially one filled with the bones of enslaved people, to be tampered with in any way.”

Bruce asked, “Can they protect the cemetery while developing the rest of the island?”

“Doubtful. The cemetery is in the middle of the island, on the highest point. Plus, Lovely said there are other small burial grounds on the island. Friends, I hate to tell you this, but Tidal Breeze is screwed. Lovely has won.”

Bruce quipped, “I guess I need to order even more books.”

Mercer said, “And I guess I need to finish mine.”

3.

The second bombshell arrived by email at exactly 9:00 a.m. the following Monday. Diane saw it first, in the office kitchen, at her cluttered card-table desk, sagging now under too much junk. It was an opinion from Judge Burch.

Both thoughtful and terse, the first five pages covered the facts, both contested and uncontested; then he spent two pages on the law of adverse possession.

His final paragraph read: “It is the opinion of the court that the Petitioner, Ms. Lovely Jackson, has met the burden of proving her claim of ownership of Dark Isle under the Florida statutes referenced above. It is therefore ordered and decreed that the title to Dark Isle shall be confirmed in her name, as the sole owner, and that the claims of the state of Florida are hereby dismissed. It is so ordered. Signed, Clifton R. Burch, Special Master.”

Within minutes, the opinion was zipping around the island. Then it went viral and the little Barrier Island Legal Defense Fund was bombarded with phone calls and emails.

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