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Click here to
go back
Centuries ago, American Indians attacked alligators - valued for
their hides and meat - throughout the swampy region now known as Gainesville. It's history vivid to Dale Crider. His front yard slinks into Newnan's Lake, where Florida's drought exposed sunken dugout canoes two years
ago. Water used to lap at Crider's cypress-and-pine stilt home. Now
he looks out a picture window at a milelong salt marsh. This stretch of cattail-
spiked muck leads to a pristine 7,000-acre lake, accessible mostly by airboat. The retired biologist for the Florida Fish & Wildlife Conservation Commission is living a life many environmentalists would savor. But Crider isn't resting in his mossy loft. This panorama provides
rich material for the 61-year-old's career as a folk musician. Spider Crider, as friends call him, will share his lyrical view
of Florida on Thursday in a free concert at the Jan Kaminis Platt Regional
Library, 3910 S. Manhattan Ave. The performance from 7 to 8:30 p.m. is sponsored
by Friends of Florida Folk. ``Dale is well-respected in the folk community,'' says Gloria Holloway,
a Florida native who has been organizing concerts at the Platt library
since it opened last year. Two previous concerts had standing room only
in the 90-person meeting room. Crider says it has been a fruitful six years since he left government
work. Ambassador For Florida ``I had to mind my p's & q's with the
state,'' he recalls. ``I was known as this crazy ecosinger. But I actually never wanted to be in protests. I was just trying to find a way to combine
art with science.'' With straightforward lyrics blended into bluegrass, folk and gospel rhythms, Crider has a growing national following. Known as Florida's
Environmental Troubadour, he has been interviewed by ABC News' Ted
Koppel. Crider's songs were included in World of Audubon TV specials. And
he He has performed throughout the United States and traveled from
Australia to Argentina singing tunes about Florida's wetlands and aquatic
ecosystems. But his home of 30-plus years is where he prefers to be. His land comprises 31 acres under Newnan's Lake and 60-plus acres surrounding it. He has four rental homes on the property and 75
citrus trees. The difference in Crider's life is he's actually living what he
once taught. ``It's such an enlightenment to be here 24 hours a day,''
he says, turning toward the estuary below his porch as one of his CDs plays in the background. ``This has definitely filled in some things in my biologist As for the 148 ancient canoes stuck in the mud somewhere out on Newnan's Lake, Crider speaks honestly of ``connecting with early people.'' The state has declared the canoes historic artifacts and mandated that, for now, they remain where they are. Looking back at a folk musical career dating to 1964, Crider is
pleased with the ``Marshes used to be considered ugly with stinky water,'' he says.
``Now it's pretty widely known a swamp is a natural machine, connected
to massive filtration systems and life cycles of innumerable habitat.'' The father of six and grandfather of four worries about the future, though. ``People understand,'' he says slowly, ``but we're still
losing Florida.''
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