No one embodied "Don't Mess with Myakka!" like Carol Ann Felts

I first met Carol Ann Felts in early 2022. I had seen her give passionate public comment at meetings many, many times, and excitedly invited her onto the Bradenton Times podcast when she announced she would be mounting a grassroots campaign for the Manatee County Commission District 6 seat, to give voters in the Republican primary the option to vote for a true sustainable growth candidate.

We had a lovely hour-long conversation in my office before recording. She told me about getting in trouble at anti-war protests when she was a teenager in South Florida and said she had never been afraid of kicking hornet nests and planned to bring that same energy to the county commission, even though she saw her chances in a big-money, countywide race as slim. She lost, but commanded an impressive 13% of the vote against an incumbent and another candidate, each with campaign war chests that dwarfed her resources by orders of magnitude.

We kept in touch, and I was thrilled when she told me she would be running for the District 1 seat in earnest in 2024. We recorded another podcast, and I recall thinking, wouldn’t it be great if someone like this could actually get elected—a well intentioned, everyday citizen who just wanted to do the right thing for their community—even though I doubted the possibility, given that there was a developer-backed candidate running for the seat that would again have much greater resources at their disposal.

Felts ran another grassroots campaign, but surprised a lot of people, myself included, by how much support she was able to mobilize in terms of both small-dollar donations and dedicated volunteers. It shouldn’t have been a surprise, however, because Carol offered something that is almost completely absent in the world of elected politics: authenticity.

If I were to sum her up in a single expression, it would be: Say what you mean, and do what you say. She was forthright and honest about her thoughts and intentions, even if they were unpopular or uncomfortable. Integrity, honesty, and reliability were her brand. Paired with the fact that she was choc-full of piss and vinegar, as they say, it all served to make her a force to be reckoned with.

On a magical day in August of 2024, Carol Ann Felts found herself among a group of like-minded individuals who made history. They became the first candidates in the post-Citizens United era to successfully fend off an enormous onslaught of special-interest dark money to flip a county commission, and they did it in a primary election. They took control of a red county’s governing body from within, while the party itself did everything it could to resist their insurgency. That is only part of her legacy, but it is indeed an impressive feat.

As a county commissioner, Carol was the model for how an everyday activist should approach the job, most notably with humility. She was never too proud to admit what she didn’t know, but she was also far too clever to be duped by anyone attempting to slow-walk her or otherwise influence her position. When something wasn’t her strong suit, Explain it to me like I’m a child, and when I have an adequate understanding, I’ll form an opinion based on my values and principles, seemed to be her approach.

Carol had one overarching goal as a public servant: to help more people understand how the machinery of government works and to encourage them to get involved and actively communicate to their representatives what they want. From her time as an activist until her final days, she pestered the administration to do more to communicate major developments and the changes they might bring to a community’s character before they occurred. They wanna know who turned those cow patties to condominiums, so it’s our job to make sure they know before it’s been decided. She lobbied endlessly for giant billboards rather than small yard signs to let people know that their government will be deciding on a development application.

What I liked most about Carol is that she was fun. She had a great sense of humor and was an unapologetic Good Time Charlie, tipping and toking, always living life on her own terms, even as she approached 70. She tried to get me to come out for a rodeo once, and I deeply regret not taking her up on it, as I'm sure it would have been an epic time.

Right before we recorded our first podcast after she had been elected, Carol came into my office and told me she had a bone to pick with me. She read a quote from a recent column of mine. “Commissioner Carol Felts continues to demonstrate that she is much more than a folksy senior citizen from out east. Don’t let that accent and Southern charm fool you. She does her homework and doesn’t yield her ground.”

“Folksy senior citizen?” she barked in that unmistakable, raspy, cigarette-ravaged voice. “Are you saying I ain’t got it no more, mister?” she asked, outstretching her arms in a mock fashion pose.

“Never!” was my reply.

The people in her community have a saying: "Don't Mess with Myakka!" I can think of no better epitaph for Carol. Godspeed, my friend. Travel well. You were a blessing to those privileged to know you, and your community is a better place because of the work you have left behind.

TBT Podcast Episodes featuring Carol: Feb. 11, 2022 — July 17, 2024 — Feb. 5, 2025

Dennis "Mitch" Maley is an editor and columnist for The Bradenton Times and the host of our weekly podcast. With over two decades of experience as a journalist, he has covered Manatee County government since 2010. He is a graduate of Shippensburg University and later served as a Captain in the U.S. Army. Click here for his bio. Mitch's 5th novel, Fish Kill, is scheduled for release this spring. His other books can be found here. He can be reached at editor@thebradentontimes.com.