Known as Blinky or One-Eyed Joe, the 11-foot beast held court in Lakeland’s Lake Mirror. He was saluted as the town’s unofficial mascot and heralded as a tourist attraction: Children often tried to pet him, and one man was even known to kiss him on the snout now and then. “Blinky is a special treat — the way Mickey Mouse is to Disneyland,” wrote Lin Clark of Connecticut in a 1978 letter to The Ledger. “We have pictures of him and articles about him — we have always thought his location should be part of your town’s attractions.” But it was Blinky’s disarming friendliness — and ferocious potential — that proved his undoing. “I simply can’t believe the fuss that is being made about something normally considered a public hazard,” S. Brown wrote in another letter. “Let’s remember that we are talking about a cold-blooded reptile and not a cute little puppy.”

Blinky was an alligator with a personality. Thought to be about 50 years old, he was missing an eye and a foot, making him a distinctive fixture on Lake Mirror throughout the 1970s. Although state law has long banned the feeding of alligators, it became a regular practice for people to visit Blinky and offer him everything from popcorn to table scraps. A lot of Lakeland residents thought it was cute. The Florida Fish and Game Commission, however, did not. “Alligators overcome their natural shyness and become accustomed or attracted to humans when fed,” the commission, now known as the Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission, states on its Web site. “By feeding alligators, people create problems for others who want to use the water for recreational purposes.” By September 1978, Fish and Game officials said if the Lakeland City Commission didn’t do something soon to separate Blinky from the public, the alligator would have to go. Many of them being Blinky fans themselves, the commissioners considered several options. But placing chain-link fence around the lake sounded tacky, and extending a concrete wall around the lake to match the rest of the Lake Mirror Promenade proved too costly. “A million-dollar gator,” said Commissioner George Burt, Blinky’s biggest cheerleader, groaning after he heard the estimate for the concrete wall.
A newspaper wrote:
“Blinky arrived at Homosassa Springs attraction just after nine o’clock riding in the back of the attraction’s white pickup truck. He had been carefully tied and his nose tapped for the trip and no time was wasted in bringing the gator back to the park where he was transferred to a cart and transported by J.P. Garner to Gator Lagoon. Several park attendants helped lift Blinky out of the cart and to the banks of the Lagoon. His legs were untied and his nose untapped and the giant saurian needed only a little push before he took the plunge into the cool waters of his new home.
“And how does Blinky like it at Homosassa Springs? He seemed to be adjusting to his new environment just fine and is swimming happily around the lagoon, making the acquaintance of his fifty new alligator neighbors and Jake the fifteen-foot crocodile. The residents of this Lagoon are fed approximately five hundred pounds of fresh fish and beef every week so Blinky will have his share of the feast. J.P. Garner and everyone at Homosassa Springs would like to welcome Binky’s friends and Lakeland and everywhere around the state to visit him in his new home. “
In the end, Blinky was moved to Homosassa Springs to live out the rest of his days in peace. At least, that’s what the humans intended. Blinky, however, had other ideas. Not content to be just another gator at the small tourist attraction, Blinky immediately started jockeying for position among the other alligators and crocodiles. His biggest foe was a whopper: a 1,000-pound crocodile named Jake. “Being the king of that lake (Mirror) down there, I guess he figured he had to be king here, too,” told J.P. Garner, attractions manager at Homosassa Springs, to The Ledger in April 1979. “So he started following Jake. Every minute, every day, he’d be looking for him.” Blinky didn’t last long. Sometime in the night that spring, Jake and Blinky got into their final fight. What was left of Blinky was discovered the next morning. “Jake just couldn’t take it anymore,” Garner said. “There wasn’t much of a match-up.”
Now Blinky lies as a metal structure commemorated Blinky beside Lake Mirror.
In 2022, a newer and much larger tribute to our dearly departed went up at the Florida Children’s Museum, the new and highly anticipated expansion of Explorations V Children’s Museum located at Bonnet Springs Park. Children can climb the 100-ft. jungle gym, which features swings, a slide down Blinky’s tail, and plenty of spots to explore.

My husband Johnny Albritton actually played Blinky in Lakeland in the late 1969 and 1970.I was pregnant with our Daughter Charla back then and the original costume was very large .It had a big head! I tried it on and was going to walk dpwn the street but I couldnt make it down the stairs ! They were to steep and I was too big!