The moment Julia walked out into the yard and cut a small branch filled with blossoms from one of the orange trees behind her trading post, did she hesitate to rethink her actions? Did she know the consequences of what she was about to do? Did she hesitate, wondering if she really wanted civilization to come to Fort Dade?
She went into the office of the sprawling general store/trading post she had run for 20 years, pulled out a piece of stationary, dipped a pen in thee ink well, and in a handwriting as graceful as bold, she wrote: Mr. Flagler, Herein lies evidence that it does not freeze in Ft. Dade. Mrs. Julia Tuttle.
As she sealed the envelope, did she pause? Did she reconsider as she lined the small box with cotton to protect the fragrant heavy blooms during their trip? When she handed it to her orchard forman, directing him to take the box to Palm Beach and deliver it to Henry Flagler, was she slow to loosen her grip? When his skiff pulled from the dock, and she walked back up the path to the store, did look over her shoulder, watch the boat grow smaller, and ask her self, “What have I done?”