A Sweet Tea Murders Story
The summer of 1991 was hot even by Pensacola standards. The kind of heat that settles over the city like a wet blanket. The kind that makes the air shimmer above the asphalt and leaves folks sitting on their porches long after sunset, hoping for a breeze that never quite comes.
But that summer, the heat wasn’t the only thing making people uneasy. A killer was loose. And before it was over, one Pensacola police officer would find himself staring down the barrel of a gun less than an inch from his head.
As a young man, Bruce Camacho believed two things. First, a man ought to be able to take care of himself. Second, right should triumph over wrong.
Simple ideas…old-fashioned ideas. But Bruce believed them enough to build his life around them. In 1986, he joined the Pensacola Police Department as a cadet. Like every young officer, he dreamed about catching bad guys, helping people, and making a difference.
Before long, he graduated from the academy, completed field training, and finally heard the words every rookie wants to hear: “Okay, Camacho. You’re on your own.”
For Bruce, it was freedom. And he loved every minute of it. While some people count down the hours until quitting time, Bruce couldn’t believe they paid him to do the job. He threw himself into police work with enthusiasm. Soon he earned a spot in the Tactical Unit—the Tac Squad.
For a young officer, it was the place to be…plain clothes, unmarked cars, violent criminals, long hours… The Tac officers weren’t waiting for crime to happen. They were out hunting for it. And in the summer of 1991, there was plenty to hunt.
Across town lived a man named Jacob Floyd. Unlike Bruce, Jacob didn’t like authority. After graduating from Washington High School, he joined the Army. It seemed like a fresh start.
Instead, it became a disaster. Financial problems mounted. Discipline became an issue. Eventually, while stationed at Fort Lewis, Washington, Floyd fired a handgun inside an Army barracks. The Army had seen enough. In May 1991, he received a dishonorable discharge and returned home to Pensacola. But he didn’t come home changed. He came home angry and armed.
The first robbery occurred on July 8 at the Church’s Fried Chicken on Ninth Avenue. Jacob walked in like any ordinary customer. Then he pulled a pistol and stuck it in the innocent employee’s face. When the frightened employee hesitated, he slapped her across the face and demanded the money. Minutes later, he disappeared into the city.
Police officers began searching – without success. Unfortunately, though, he wasn’t finished. The following night, he struck again. This time it was the Whataburger on Ninth Avenue and Langley. Again, he displayed a pistol.
Again, he took the money. Again, he ran. But this time, things went wrong. Escambia County Deputy Wayne Ladieu – an exceptional law enforcement officer – spotted the getaway car. Blue lights flashed. The vehicle stopped. The deputy ordered the driver to show his hands.
Instead, Jacob Floyd stepped from the car and opened fire. The deputy returned fire, wounding Floyd. But somehow, despite the injury, Floyd escaped on foot.
Now things had changed. This wasn’t merely an armed robber. This was a man willing to shoot a law enforcement officer. The hunt intensified.
The next morning, tragedy struck. Linda George had worked sixteen years as a federal employee. She was dependable, hard-working…and stubborn.
On July 10, she walked outside to leave for work. Jacob Floyd approached and demanded her car. It was an absurd request – her friends joked that the aging vehicle was barely running. Linda refused. She told him no. Then she struggled with him as he tried to take the car.
Jacob pulled the pistol and fired. The bullet struck her in the head. She died instantly.
Ironically, he only got a few minutes down the road before the car broke down. Linda George’s final act of defiance had left him stranded. But she was dead, and now the entire region was looking for a murderer.
Now, every news outlet had the same headline. Every law enforcement officer in the area was searching…not for a robber – not for a shooter, but for a murderer.
That evening, an anonymous caller dialed 911. The caller had seen the suspect walking along Sixth Avenue. The information went out over police radios. Among those listening was Officer Bruce Camacho.
Bruce’s heart immediately sped up. This could be him. This could finally be the guy. Bruce, determined to get Floyd, drove…no, he RACED toward the area.
Another Tac officer approached from a different direction. The plan was simple – box him in, identify him, and take him into custody.
Easy enough. At least that’s what Bruce thought. When he spotted the man walking down the street, nothing seemed unusual. The suspect didn’t run, he didn’t hide. He didn’t even appear nervous. Bruce stepped from his vehicle.
“Can I talk to you for a minute?”
“Sure,” the man replied.
That answer actually relaxed Bruce. Maybe this isn’t him. The man calmly walked closer. Bruce identified himself and requested identification. The man handed it over. Bruce looked down. The name on the card read:
Jacob Floyd.
Everything changed. Instantly.
Floyd lunged. The two men crashed to the ground. Bruce pushed him away. Floyd produced a handgun. The muzzle came up. The trigger was pulled…
BOOM.
The gun discharged less than an inch from Bruce’s head. The blast exploded beside his left ear. For the rest of his life, Bruce would remember that sound. And the fact that the bullet missed by less than an inch…
Floyd immediately tried again. But this time the pistol malfunctioned. The slide wouldn’t move. Years later, Bruce would explain that his training simply took over. Without thinking, he grabbed the action of the pistol and locked it in place. The gun couldn’t fire. That single act saved his life.
Bruce drew his own Heckler & Koch 9mm. For a moment, both men fought for control. One is trying to survive. The other is trying to kill.
Bruce ripped the pistol free, and Floyd lost his grip. Bruce fired. The bullet struck Floyd in the chest. The murderer fell backward. Then came one of the strangest moments in Pensacola criminal history. Looking down at the wound, Floyd stared at Bruce and said:
“You shot me.”
As if he couldn’t believe it. As if the officer he had just tried to murder had somehow turned the tables. As if consequences had finally arrived.
The fight was over, but the effects remained. Bruce stood up and realized he couldn’t hear anything – not the crowd, not the sirens, not the officers rushing toward him. The gunshot fired beside his ear had temporarily deafened him. He could see mouths moving, and he could see people talking, but all he heard was silence.
Lieutenant Norman Chapman arrived moments later and pulled Bruce from the scene. Meanwhile, Jacob Floyd was transported to the hospital. He died before arriving.
The crime spree was over. The robberies ended. The murderer would never kill again. And Pensacola could finally breathe.
Six months later, officers and their families gathered for the annual Fraternal Order of Police awards banquet. The room was filled with laughter and conversation. Awards were presented. Stories were told. Heroes were recognized. Then came the highest honor the department could bestow.
The Gold Medal of Valor.
Only two had ever been awarded before. That night, the third recipient was announced. Officer Bruce Camacho. As Chief Louis Goss placed the medal around his neck, the audience rose to its feet. For five minutes, they applauded, not because Bruce had taken a life, but because he had preserved his own.
Because his training worked. Because his courage never failed. Because when evil confronted him face-to-face on a Pensacola street, he did his duty. And because one split-second decision allowed him to go home to his family. More than three decades later, that remains the real story…not the criminal, or the gunfight, or even the medal. The story is that a good man walked into danger and came back out again. And the final words of the killer became the title of the story.
“You Shot Me.”
On Monday, June 15, 2026, Michael Earl Simmons will tell the story of Bruce Camacho in person at 6:00 PM at the Pensacola Police Department training room. The event is free and open to the public.
And the best part…the special guest will be Former Officer Bruce Camacho!
See you there!
Michael Earl Simmons
If you like historical true stories of real crimes, told by a retired police officer and former homicide detective, go to sweetteamurders.com. Tickets are available for Sweet Tea Murders LIVE events, held monthly in downtown Pensacola.
