02/05/2026
So much history in a cemetery.
Theresa was a Black woman who endured childhood enslavement by one of Pensacola's most powerful families—the Morenos. Purchased around 1844 at about age seven in Mobile, Alabama, by Don Francisco Moreno—infamously dubbed "The King of Pensacola"—she spent the rest of her long life in service to them.
For more than 65 years, Theresa worked tirelessly as a nurse and midwife, delivering and caring for multiple generations of Moreno children. Even after emancipation in 1865, she chose (or was compelled by circumstance) to stay with the family. Francisco Moreno's 1882 will reportedly provided for her support, and she continued serving his descendants until her death.
Her story is etched in stone at St. Michael's Cemetery, where she lies buried in the Moreno family plot (specifically noted in association with Moreno son-in-law Hubert Jordan's lot). Born December 7, 1837, and dying April 7, 1909, her gravestone stands as a stark, physical reminder of the tangled bonds forged under slavery—loyalty, dependence, coercion, and decades of intimate caregiving within a wealthy, influential white household.
This single grave captures Pensacola's complicated history: the Moreno dynasty's dominance (Francisco fathered 27 children and built a financial empire), the brutal realities of chattel slavery in the Florida Panhandle, and the rare cases where enslaved or formerly enslaved people remained embedded in the enslaving family long after legal freedom arrived. Theresa's resting place among the Morenos symbolizes both deep integration into their world and the inescapable legacy of human ownership.
Her marker draws visitors today, quietly contrasting with grander monuments nearby while underscoring how personal relationships could develop—and persist—within one of America's most dehumanizing systems.
