“I Will Not Fight Against the United States”
The Journey of John and Rebecca Krimminger Continues
Poncher evaded arrest for years
Rebecca stressed that ahough indicted, Poncher evaded arrest for years, protected by sympathetic Democrats and the region’s fractured loyalties. Rebecca named another possible conspirator: Captain Edwards, a Democrat who housed Poncher shortly before the killing. She testified that Poncher had recently watched the place where Krimminger ferried his children to school—evidence, in her eyes, of premeditation.
Rumors connected Poncher to the Ku Klux Klan, though Rebecca admitted she had no proof beyond overheard conversation and whispers of local meetings. Still, she believed the assassination—and the others that followed—were part of an orchestrated campaign of political violence
She and John had spoken about that possibility. He had told her just the day before—if someone struck, it would be sudden. No warnings. No chance to prepare.
He had been right.
At the time of her testimony, Lafayette County had endured eight political killings in just two years. No arrests. No justice. Poncher, it was said, had once admitted someone urged him to pull the trigger—though no one else was ever charged.
Two Years Later —John C. Poncher Is Captured and Killed
From the Savannah Morning News, July 25, 1873:
“Tallahassee Sentinel: John C. Poncher was killed on the 5th inst. at Deadman’s Bay by Mark Stevens, a merchant at that place... He shot Senator Krimminger in [1871] from a courthouse window... He fled into the dense hammocks... always well-armed... beckoned pursuers to follow, which invitation they prudently declined. He has long been noted as a desperate character... At the time of his death, he was sixty years of age.”
Even in death, Poncher defied accountability. He lived in hiding, armed and defiant, until fate found him at the edge of the Gulf.
Rebecca’s testimony didn’t just document a murder—it illuminated a moment when justice faltered, and courage stepped in. Her voice, steady and unsparing, gave shape to the grief that haunted Lafayette County. And though Puncher’s death came without trial or reckoning, her account remains: a widow’s truth, etched into the record. I return to it not for vengeance, but for understanding. Because in the silence that followed, something else began—a reckoning not with violence, but with memory.
Note: This interpretation of Rebecca’s testimony was generated with assistance from Microsoft Copilot, an AI tool used to support historical synthesis and narrative development. I did not want to include the 138 questions and answers, so I concluded that a non-biased input was necessary, and Copilot was an obvious choice.
Rebecca’s Story After John
After the death of John, and her testimony before the committee in 1880, Rebecca is found in the 1880 Federal Census along with her daughter Caroline and her son Frank residing in Lafayette County. Rebecca’s life story falls silent between 1880 and 1885—even as New Troy remained the county’s bustling center.
In the 1870’s and 1880’s, the town of Troy was a center for steamboat traffic on the Suwannee River. It had a wharf where products from the surrounding area-including cotton, oranges, and lumber-were loaded for transport. A ferry also operated across the river. In addition, Troy’s Church served as a center for community life and gatherings—a log courthouse, which was reportedly burned during the chaos following the Civil War— Other Buildings in Troy at its peak included: 5 stores, two doctors, a saloon and a post office.
A brief explanation of Troy’s history might help explain the town’s history in Lafayette County.
The original town of Troy was Lafayette County’s first seat, with a log courthouse, church, jail, and other buildings. One account suggests the courthouse was burned in 1865, possibly by Major Campfield and a force of Confederate cavalry and infantry, retaliating against Union sympathizers and deserters in the area. After the fire, residents relocated the town a quarter mile away, naming it New Troy. New Troy remained the county seat until New Year’s Eve 1892, when its courthouse also burned.
With the 1890 Federal Census destroyed by fire, the 1885 Florida State Census becomes our source of information until the 1900 Federal Census and unfortunately Rebecca is deceased by then.
The 1885 Florida State census informs us that Caroline and Franklin are the children living at home with Rebecca. She is age 54 and she is running a boarding house—a daughter Caroline age 23, a son Franklin age 17. Immediately preceding Rebecca is the name Sam Severance age 19 and this name appearing here has significance to my following story.
For now, the story of John Newton and Rebecca Ugenia Wright Krimminger—my great-grandparents—comes to a close. Along with their son Franklin, they rest side by side in Maypop Cemetery, not far from the land they once called home in Lafayette County.
It’s taken months to dig through records, walk the ground, and piece together the fragments. Weeks to write it down in a way that feels honest. It’s been a ride—part history, part heart—and I’ve done my best to tell it straight.
I hope you find something in it worth remembering.
