We'll never see another like him

Happy Tuesday, Citrus County.

I was headed to Spring Hill on Monday morning when a friend called to say that Charlie Dean had died. It wasn’t totally unexpected. Charlie was 86 and in failing health.

Still. It’s Charlie Dean. One of those “larger than life” people who graced our community with his leadership as Sheriff and then in the Legislature.

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That’s the official stuff. Charlie was also one large personality, and anyone who knew him for a length of time has a Charlie Dean story. I have four:

— It was a December 2021 fundraiser for Wilton Simpson, the former Senate president running for Commissioner of Agriculture, at M&B Dairy in Lecanto.

A few hundred people were there for Wilton, but I kept hearing people talking about someone else: “Is he here? He said he was coming.”

Who were they expecting? The Governor? The President?

Nope. The Sheriff.

When Dean arrived, Simpson became an afterthought. The candidate himself sided up to Dean and the two friends enjoyed the moment.

I’ve had the photo with today’s blog on my phone since that night. After hearing of Charlie’s passing, I took a look at it Monday and was amused to see Charlie giving me the stink eye. It felt like old times.

— Speaking of that, you’ll be stunned to learn Charlie and I didn’t always get along. He was a big-name politician. I’m a political reporter. Worse, I was a brash, know-it-all reporter who didn’t understand Southern hospitality or tradition.

Political types like Charlie have no patience for runts like me.

So, it’s the day of a Chronicle candidates’ forum. The forum schedule is a closely guarded secret. The reason being we didn’t want candidates dropping in for their time on stage, and then slipping out. Candidates always ask me when they’re on the agenda; I tell them to show up and they’ll find out.

Charlie Dean called. He wanted to know when he’s on the schedule. I told him to show up and he’ll find out.

“I’m not kidding, I really want to know,” he barked. I would not relent. He uttered a few unpleasantries and then hung up on me.

Charlie wasn’t a mean guy at all. I’ve had political types be very nasty to me and other reporters. He was just being Charlie. That gruff nature was part of his charm.

— We had an interesting conversation at the Chronicle’s 125th anniversary celebration in 2019 at the Historic Old Citrus County Courthouse. Many community people were in attendance, definitely a feel-good night.

Charlie pulled me aside. He apologized for his behavior over the years. I told him that wasn’t necessary; I didn’t take any of that stuff personally. But I was experiencing a mellow Charlie Dean for the first time. 

See, you don’t become a powerful politician without ruffling a feather or two along the way. I’ve since talked with others who felt Charlie soften after he hung up the political spurs.

— Charlie and I shared an experience unique among Citrus Countians: We witnessed an execution.

It was October 2013. William Happ was being executed for the 1986 raping and killing of Angela Crowley after a chance late-night encounter at a Crystal River gas station.

Angela was driving through the county to Yankeetown. Unfamiliar with the area, she stopped at the gas station to rendezvous with her friend. Happ, a career criminal from California staying with an aunt in Crystal River, was walking by when he inexplicably attacked her. Angela’s body was found in the Cross Florida Barge Canal.

Fingerprints and other evidence led authorities to arrest Happ, who had fled to Pennsylvania. Dean, then the sheriff, traveled to the small Illinois town where Angela was from to tell her family he had her killer in custody.

Happ was tried and convicted, then sentenced to death. Numerous appeals delayed things 24 years.

The state invited family members to witness Happ’s execution by lethal injection. Also invited were the Sheriff and a local newspaper reporter.

Dean had long ago promised Angela’s family he’d be there. Even though he was no longer Sheriff and had bowed away from public life, and much of her family was gone, Dean kept that promise.

Charlie and I both watched a man die. Other than a quote or two for the newspaper, we never talked about it. 

We had a typical politician-reporter relationship. Not great, not terrible. I feel fortunate to have written about this fascinating man over a three-decade stretch. 

Our community has lost a giant in Charlie Dean. Prayers to his wife, children, and grandchildren.

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