Floyd Brown, Still in Town

Cousin (maybe) Totch

Keep New Times Free
I Support
  • Local
  • Community
  • Journalism
  • logo

Support the independent voice of Miami and help keep the future of New Times free.

In Everglades City, on the edge of the world, there's a place named Leebo's Rock Bottom Bar. There you will find a drunk named Floyd Brown — one of the last remaining survivors of the 100-man marijuana operation that got the majority of the town's male population thrown behind bars in 1983. The grist rocketed this crazy cracker from Argentina to Guatemala and back to Florida —you can only imagine the terrible things he's done and seen.

Today, at 69, he remains lecherous and unrepentantly racist. He smells like cat piss and around 40 percent of what he says is lost between his rotted bottom teeth and his ancient cracker drawl. But for the price of a drink he will tell you all about being Totch Brown's brother (actually, his cousin, he'll later admit) and all the roughneck craziness that life involved.

To wit:

"After I got shot twice in the leg in South America..."

"—who shot you?"

"South America. Anyhow, I had these crutches. And I came into a bar and set down and four fellas come up to me and tell me they gonna kick the shit outta me. Well, I look over at the tender and I says: 'You gonna let this happen, now?'"

"And he says, 'Floyd, this ain't no church house.'"

"—why did they want to beat the shit out of you?"

"Because I'm a drunk asshole. Anyhow, I says, 'ain't no church house, eh?' And I dials up around the corner, where my four boys stayed at. I ain't seen them in a few months but I call and say: 'Boys, daddy's in trouble.'"

"Well they showed up and they wiped that bar clean. They whomped and stomped every motherfucker in the room — they had to be carried out on stretchers. Like the goddamned Cavalry-Marine Corps. And I looked up at the tender hiding behind the bar and he says: 'Floyd this is a church house.'" -Calvin Godfrey

Keep Miami New Times Free... Since we started Miami New Times, it has been defined as the free, independent voice of Miami, and we would like to keep it that way. Offering our readers free access to incisive coverage of local news, food and culture. Producing stories on everything from political scandals to the hottest new bands, with gutsy reporting, stylish writing, and staffers who've won everything from the Society of Professional Journalists' Sigma Delta Chi feature-writing award to the Casey Medal for Meritorious Journalism. But with local journalism's existence under siege and advertising revenue setbacks having a larger impact, it is important now more than ever for us to rally support behind funding our local journalism. You can help by participating in our "I Support" membership program, allowing us to keep covering Miami with no paywalls.

We use cookies to collect and analyze information on site performance and usage, and to enhance and customize content and advertisements. By clicking 'X' or continuing to use the site, you agree to allow cookies to be placed. To find out more, visit our cookies policy and our privacy policy.


Join the New Times community and help support independent local journalism in Miami.


Join the New Times community and help support independent local journalism in Miami.