10/30/2026
Forester Glows As Green Trees Replace ‘Desert’
By RON GOETSCH
News-Journal Staff Writer
The hills of Santa Rosa County lay naked under a scorching sun when Cecil Pitts joined the forest service in 1946.
A Bagdad sawmill had cashed in on the tremendous demand for cheap lumber several years before and had left a treeless desert where forests teeming with wildlife had been since the beginning of time. After the lumber was gone, the sawmill abandoned its operations and moved on.
“There were only large landowners back then and there was no lumber,” Pitts recalls. “One hilltop to the next was perfectly clear. Wildlife was gone. Now, the wildlife has increased and the timber is back up to where it was way back when.”
Pitts’ interest in forestry came from his experience as a member of Franklin D. Roosevelt’s Civilian Conservation Corps which he joined in 1940. His first job was that of a firefighter in the Apalachicola State Forest. Today, he’s in charge of all fire activity in Escambia, Santa Rosa and Okaloosa counties.
“When I first started, we didn’t have but axes, shovels, hoes and a 250-gallon tank truck to fight fires with,” Pitts says. “These days we’ve got tractors and plows to churn up fuel in front of a fire. Also, the Forest Service has one of the best training programs for firefighters you could find.”
And with an average of 520 forest fires every year, the problem is far more serious today than it was in 1946.
“In 1951, we had 1,600 fires in Santa Rosa County that ate up more than 1,000 acres of land,” he says. “I’ve seen more than 500 fires every year since then and a lot of them are set by people who know exactly what they’re doing.”
Pitts remembers a 1964 incendiary fire that consumed 1,200 acres as the worst he’s ever seen.
“It was a fire that was deliberately set by people in the Blackwater River Forest northwest of Munson,” he says. “Several homes were involved and several were burned up. One farmer lost his barn, his beehives and quite a bit of farming equipment. I remember the wind was out of the southeast at about 20 miles per hour. That fire crossed four graded roads until we finally stopped it running north on Highway 91.”
He remembers how the heat became so intense that pine sap began running off of tree limbs like “water from a faucet.”
And regardless of the heavy rains West Florida gets on a seasonal basis, Pitts says, Florida timberland is always vulnerable to wildfire.
“With the type of fuel we have around here, two hours after a rain storm it’s as dry as it is going to be,” he says. “All it lacks is someone to breath on it and it’s ready to burn.”
The rewards of a career spent protecting West Florida from the ravages of pyromania and accidental fires are hard to measure, Pitts says, but are easy to appreciate. After all, a forest teeming with wildlife once again grows where barren hills stood when his career started.
“I saw we had a need for timber and I’ve always like working with people,” Pitts says. “I thought some small part I could play might help the forests in this part of the state.”
If ever uncertain about his contribution to West Florida, all Pitts needs to do is take a look outside.
Pensacola News Journal
Pensacola, Florida •
Sun, Aug 12, 1979
Page 57
