By Ralph

Drive along Limona Road today and there's little to suggest that you're passing through what was once a community with an identity entirely its own.

There's a school bearing the Limona name. There's a cemetery at Limona Road and Lakewood Drive. And scattered through this part of Brandon are reminders of a settlement that existed before modern Brandon swallowed it up.

But go back 150 years and Limona wasn't part of Brandon.

It was its own community.

And for a time, it was thriving.

It Started With 160 Acres

The story begins in 1876, when Judge Joseph Gillette Knapp of Wisconsin settled on a 160-acre homestead in what is now the Brandon area.

Knapp called the community Limona, a name associated with the citrus growing in the area. He helped establish a cemetery, church and school, and a post office followed in 1878.

That may sound like little more than a frontier settlement today, but those institutions mattered.

A post office gave a community an official identity. A school attracted families. A church and cemetery established roots.

Limona was becoming a town.

Florida's Early “Snowbirds”

The community soon attracted newcomers from much farther north.

In 1877, people associated with Illinois' Elgin Watch Company organized the Limona Park Association as a place where northerners could spend winters in Florida's warmer climate.

Long before the word snowbird became part of Florida vocabulary, families were already traveling south to Limona for the winter and returning north during the summer.

Agriculture helped sustain the community.

Citrus was particularly important, but historical records also document livestock, poultry, dairy operations and other businesses. Eventually there were general stores and a citrus growers association.

Then came something that could transform a rural Florida settlement almost overnight:

the railroad.

When the Train Came Through

The arrival of rail service gave Limona farmers access to markets far beyond eastern Hillsborough County.

Recognizing that opportunity, businesses followed.

In 1893, the Perkins and Poore company established a large citrus packing house in Limona, taking advantage of both the area's citrus production and its connection to the railroad.

For residents, the depot also provided something we take for granted today—the ability to travel relatively quickly between small communities and Tampa.

Limona was connected.

And it grew.

Historical records put its population at roughly 400 residents in 1883. It later fell to about 200 in 1911 before climbing to approximately 500 by 1925.

By the early 20th century, records identify orange growers, poultry and livestock breeders, a baker, dairy operator, brick company, general store and other enterprises operating around Limona.

It was small.

But it was most certainly a community.

Then Everything Changed

The Great Depression hit Limona particularly hard.

By the 1930s, historical accounts described the community as having been reduced to little more than its railroad depot and post office.

Even during the 1940s, many local roads remained unpaved. Streetlights were absent and relatively few homes had telephones. Eventually, the railroad depot closed.

But something else was happening just next door.

Brandon was growing.

What had once been neighboring rural communities increasingly became part of the same expanding suburban landscape.

Homes appeared.

Roads improved.

Businesses followed residents east from Tampa.

And beginning in the 1950s, Brandon's rapid expansion increasingly surrounded what remained of Limona.

Then came perhaps the clearest symbol that Limona's independent identity was disappearing.

In 1964, the Limona post office closed.

Mail would thereafter be delivered from Brandon.

There wasn't a single day when everyone woke up and Limona had suddenly vanished.

It happened gradually.

Brandon simply grew around it.

Limona Never Completely Disappeared

Look carefully around Brandon today and the old community is still here.

Limona Road carries its name.

So does Limona Elementary School.

And at the intersection of Limona Road and Lakewood Drive sits perhaps the most tangible reminder of all:

Limona Cemetery.

The five-acre cemetery marked its 150th anniversary on January 12, 2026. It contains the graves of early settlers who helped establish both Limona and the surrounding communities that eventually became modern Brandon.

Judge Joseph Knapp himself is buried there.

So are veterans and other early Hillsborough County residents whose names became intertwined with the area's history.

A historical marker on the cemetery grounds tells visitors about the community that once surrounded it.

It's easy to drive past without noticing.

But that little patch of land is one of Brandon's remaining windows into a world that disappeared.

THEN & NOW

THEN: Limona was a rural community of citrus growers, farmers, merchants and winter residents, complete with its own school, church, post office and railroad depot.

NOW: The former settlement has been absorbed into unincorporated Brandon, and most residents probably pass through what was once Limona without realizing there was ever a separate community there.

Yet the name survived.

And that's what makes Limona's story worth remembering.

Brandon wasn't created all at once. The community we know today grew from smaller settlements, farms, railroad stops and neighborhoods that gradually came together as eastern Hillsborough County developed.

Some kept their identities.

Others didn't.

Limona became part of Brandon—but 150 years later, Brandon still carries pieces of Limona with it.