The Oyster War of Pamlico Sound

Mike Lewis. Circa 1940 -1943. Oyster Schooner Pamlico Sound.
 Photo courtesy Lewis Family Collection (C)

           My post on Tuesday about oysters prompted me to do a bit more research about Goose Creek Island and our oyster heritage.  I am quite certain many of us have family ties to someone who oystered out in Pamlico Sound and River.  I came across some old photo negatives recently that belonged to my grandfather Mike Lewis.  I was able to get them scanned and to my amazement, it was pictures of him, Leo Ireland, Corbett Ireland and others working in Pamlico Sound on what he called an oyster schooner.  Some the pictures showed them docked in Washington, N.C.  I would assume these pictures were taken in the 1940 – 1943 era, as my grandfather enlisted in the Civilian Conservation Corps in the fall of 1939 to September 1940.  He then entered military service in 1943.

     Viewing the photos and reading historical documentation prompted me to explore our 19^th and 20^th century history of the oyster fishery in Pamlico Sound.  Reading a research paper about the “Oyster Wars” transported me back to the grand old days of sail and the boom of many coastal towns such as Washington, New Bern and Elizabeth City.  There is no doubt that many Goose Creek Island watermen were affected by the economics and the controversies that occurred in the late 1880’s and early 1890’s. 

     Pamlico Sound, a saltwater wonderland for fish and oysters, hugs the shores of Goose Creek Island.  The 1,860 square miles of water has been a primary source of income and support for all of our ancestors.  Before the days of the Civil War, the seafood industry was normally confined to the locals who lived along the edges of the Sound.  The locals would travel up river to farmers and merchants and trade oysters or fish for produce, corn and other goods.

     But after the Civil War, consumer demand for seafood changed.  New inventions in transportation and harbor dredging projects ushered in more boats, easier access to wharfs and increased trade in commodities such as tobacco and cotton.  With these newer, more modern conveniences, the oyster and seafood industry started to gain importance.  Of course, with any increase in trade and free enterprise, the new industry brought its share of controversies and greed.  And with controversies, the new oyster trade ushered in the first environmental awareness of preserving the oyster stocks and eventually the first government regulations on fishermen in the state.

     In the 1880’s, Chesapeake Bay was the primary source for oyster harvests on the Eastern Seaboard.  When their oyster beds were virtually depleted by overfishing, the shucking houses or canneries in Baltimore and other major cities found themselves in need of product to continue operations. Maryland alone had harvested more than 10 million bushels of oysters in 1880. 

     The cannery operations began looking South into North Carolina to keep their businesses open.  The canneries sent “buy boats” into Pamlico Sound to purchase oysters.  This new business of oystering heightened a new economy in the depressed, rural shorelines of the Sound.  Oysters reigned supreme with town officials in Washington, New Bern and Elizabeth City.  The new commodity was producing jobs, wealth and progress in their towns; more money for locals meant more spending in the mercantile's.

     However, the natural abundance of the bi-valve in Pamlico Sound also became the source of conflict among locals, government leaders and the “out-of-staters”.  Locals had historically harvested their oysters by hand, rake or with tongs.  The new out-of-staters, with their state of the art oyster dredges, scooped up tons of oysters each day. The locals couldn’t compete with this new gear and the efficient two or three masted schooners.

     The local watermen began to question the validity of their rights to the public oyster beds.  Tensions rose between the local native oyster tongers and the wealthy, cannery operated oyster dredgers.  By the late 1880’s, the General Assembly had debated the oyster issue during several sessions.  In 1887, it was apparent that the state government had to respond to the controversy and thus enacted the first regulations on the commercial harvest of oysters.

     The new laws were designed to allow the local watermen to harvest in private oyster beds.  Anybody could claim a 10 acre plot of oyster bottom “for perpetuity” for a fee of 25 cents per acre.  The new law also allowed 640 acre plots of oyster bottom in waters over 8 feet deep.  Only dredging was permitted in the deep water plots.  Prior to this enactment, Francis Winslow, a naval surveyor had just completed a report for the state government, reporting that Pamlico Sound and other tributaries had an abundant and virtually untapped supply for oyster harvesting.  The report and the new laws did nothing but create more hostilities.  The locals couldn’t compete with the wealthy canneries and out-of-staters, and basically the whole Sound was monopolized by them.  This shoved the local watermen even more out of the oyster fishery.

    The unlimited potential to lay claims on oyster plots escalated with the out-of-staters and canneries. Soundside towns suddenly became "boom towns".  Prosperity came to Washington, Belhaven, and Elizabeth City, as the out-of –staters built cannery operations in those towns which provided much needed jobs and brought money into the community. 

     Accusations began to swirl in the sound country of illegal poaching operations on oyster plots, fraud, and violent hostilities between local watermen and the “oyster pirates”.  The local watermen began to pressure their state representatives for relief.  In 1889, the oyster laws were revised and limited only North Carolinian's to the use of oyster dredges.  County Sheriff’s were to enforce the new rule.  For a variety of reasons, most county officials did not enforce them and much to the dismay of the local watermen, the out-of-state oyster dredgers continued their “poaching” operations.

     If there ever was time in North Carolina history that “the little man’s” voice was heard in state government, it was heard in 1890.  State Senator W.H. Lucas of Hyde County heard the passionate pleas from his constituents in rural Hyde, Beaufort, and Pamlico Counties.  He skillfully garnered support among fellow representatives and senators to protect the local, native watermen of the State and began his quest to outlaw dredging for oysters in North Carolina’s public waters.

     The oyster debate in Raleigh prompted the wealthy canneries to hire lobbyists, thus the lobbyists and cannery owners pressured the local town officials to support the economic prosperity their businesses had brought into the towns.  In January 1891, an act to promote and protect the oyster interests of the state passed in the General Assembly. The new law authorized the Governor to use military force, if needed, to remove the out-of-state oyster dredgers from the oyster beds in Pamlico Sound.  Before Governor Daniel G. Fowle (a native of Washington N.C.) signed the bill into law, he assembled a regiment of the N.C. State Guard for he knew enforcement would be difficult, if not hostile and/or violent. 

     Governor Fowle called up the Pasquotank Rifles out of Elizabeth City and armed the state patrol boat Vesper with ammunition and a Howitzer gun.  Once the patrol boat was stationed in Pamlico Sound, the Governor signed the bill into law in January 1891.  North Carolina watermen and the Governor meant business about its oysters.  The patrol boat and the state guard were instructed to arrest or even blow out of the water, any dredgers who were found violating the new law.  During the Vesper’s three month patrol of the Sound, only one vessel, its captain and crew were arrested and brought to trial.

     In March 1891, new, comprehensive legislation was created to protect the local, native watermen of North Carolina.  For the first time, all watermen who participated in the oyster fishery were required to purchase a license.  The harvest season was established from October to May, and the state’s first conservation measures to preserve oyster stocks were enacted. Even State Senator W.H. Lucas of Hyde County was appointed to be the state’s first oyster commissioner.

     Since the days of the “oyster wars” much has changed in Pamlico Sound.  Long gone are the days of the sailing schooners or sharpies working under sail.  Long gone are the exciting and adventurous days of young Island men traveling up the Pamlico River to the bustling wharves of Washington.  But most importantly, long gone are the days of the “oyster pirates” who almost decimated one North Carolina and Goose Creek Island’s most valuable fishery.  If the harvesting had been left “unchecked” and unregulated, today the oyster could have been nothing more than a story for the history books. 

     Today, water quality is the primary culprit to our decline of the oyster.  Freshwater and storm water run-off have drained into our estuaries. Few watermen still continue minor dredging operations.  The oyster fishery has now become nothing more than a winter time supplement to their main income of crabbing.  But when the wind starts to blow cold out of the northeast, nothing is more inviting to a Goose Creek Islander than a table full of steamed oysters.  It’s funny how an ugly old bi-valve could cause a “war”.  But what is even more interesting, is this ugly old bivalve can be the reason for a gathering and a celebration on a cold winters night.    

Unknown fisherman on deck of oyster schooner. Washington NC. Circa 1940-1943
Photo courtesy Lewis Family Collection (C)

Corbett Ireland on oyster schooner. Circa 1940-1943
Photo courtesy Lewis Family Collection (C)

Oystering in Pamlico Sound. Circa 1940-1943
Photo courtesy Lewis Family Collection (C)

Jonah Lewis Oyster License issued October 1917. Jonah J. Lewis Collection (C)

References and Sources:

Chapter 338, An Act to Promote and Protect the Oyster Interests of the State, Laws of North Carolina, 1891.

The More Things Change...: Oysters, Public Policy, and Species Decline in the Pamlico Sound, 1880-1900, Kathleen S. Carter, High Point University. 

Photos from the Lewis Family Collection (C).

Oyster License from the Jonah J. Lewis Collection (C).

Oysters. The Sign of Winter

Oysters….it's a sure sign of winter on Goose Creek Island.  Tables lined with newspapers, vinegar and hot sauce in bowls, saltine crackers, and a bushel of steamed oysters piled high on the table.  This is good stuff!

            Oystering in the winter has always been a primary source of income for most island families.  Most island watermen use oyster dredges out along Pamlico Sound and River.  Slowly pulling their “drudges” along the numerous oyster lumps bring in some of the best succulent oysters around. 

            In the past, oysters were carried up the Pamlico River to Washington or sold to shucking houses that flourished along the Pamlico River or Sound in communities of Rose Bay, Swan Quarter or Belhaven.  These shucking houses were major employers in those communities plus providing a source of commerce to the watermen of Goose Creek Island.

            Today, most watermen “peddle’ their oysters locally or sell to a few select wholesalers who transport them to other markets along eastern North Carolina.  The oyster shucking houses that dotted our shorelines in years past have all closed except for one in Rose Bay.  Oyster shells have built many roads here, filled many pot holes, served as erosion control barriers, and even continue to serve as fertilizer for our fig trees.  

            The next time you sit down to a big table of steamed oysters, think about our fathers, grandfathers and uncles who toiled in the frigid waters of Pamlico Sound in howling Northeast winds in back breaking conditions to sustain their island families of years past.  It’s a part of who we are.

I Am Thankful.

 

   Thanksgiving marks the beginning of the winter holiday season.  Sitting in my office today, I see the multitude of cars traveling the highway; heading over the river and through the woods.  For many families, it is a time of gathering, the traditional thanksgiving feast and an afternoon of football.  With all the hustle and bustle of black Friday shopping, bulging waistlines, and stress of preparing the holiday feast, many of us have forgotten what Thanksgiving is all about.
     This year, I have really thought about the meaning of Thanksgiving.  Yes, I know all about the European colonists who were freezing and starving and the Native Americans who helped them to survive.  I won't get into the history lesson about the first Thanksgiving, but real meaning is that Thanksgiving is a day to give thanks.  So this year, I have decided to reflect on all that I am thankful for and list those things on this blog.  If you get the chance, I encourage you to do the same.

Things I am thankful for....

The love my family shares.
Spending my 42nd birthday at lunch with my Granny.
My daughter, who knows how to work hard for the things she wants in life.
To live near the water.  To eat from it, swim in it and to listen to it.
The places that I have been.
My friends. Old and new.
To able to laugh with all of those friends.
Being an American.
Memories.
The people and stories of Goose Creek Island.
For those who have opened up their lives for my Goose Creek Island research.
That I am the very best that I can be.
The faith to persevere and that the Lord is in control of my life.

I close my journal entry today with a prayer. It is a prayer of thanks that my great grandmother Melissa Howerin Lewis (1888-1990) always recited at the beginning of every meal. Happy Thanksgiving to all of you.  May your holiday be filled with love, laughter and memories.

Dear Lord, we thank you for this and all other blessings we receive from Thee. Abide with us this day our Father and lead us in Thy will.  Amen.




 

Hunting Season has begun

Gerald Harris and Mike Lewis, Goose Hunt early 1950's
Photo courtesy Lewis Family Collection (C)

 
   I awoke early this morning to the low rumbling of "boom, boom."  It was the sound of shotguns echoing across Core Sound at daybreak.  Yep, duck hunting season has started.  The distant rumbling of the guns firing, the brisk cool air conjured up images of duck hunters sitting low in duck blinds, sipping coffee and waiting for the early morning migration of waterfowl to come swooping down onto the Sound.
     I have heard so many hunting stories in my lifetime that I wouldn't know where to start.  When I was a young girl, I grew up across the street from Gerald and Ruth Harris.  They were family, cousins to be exact.  Ms. Ruth was the mail carrier on the Island and Mr. Gerald assisted her.  They never had any children, so me and my sister Heather were kind of like "surrogate" grandchildren.  One of my biggest memories of Mr. Gerald was his love for hunting and shooting.  He loved to go dove and duck hunting.  I can still see his gun cabinet on the "back porch" that had all of his shotguns, polished and ready for a hunting trip. 
     Many times, he would call my daddy Curtis to come over and do some skeet shooting in the back yard. His excuse was that he needed to get ready for the approaching hunting season.  More times than none, it was daddy loading the skeet thrower and Mr. Gerald doing all shooting.  Mr. Gerald was always good at shooting the skeet as it went away from him.  But in order to understand Mr. Gerald and his hunting techniques, you needed to have known Mr. Gerald.  In a word, Mr. Gerald was what I would call "something of a mess."
      I can still recall seeing Mr. Gerald and Daddy in their camouflaged jackets, shotgun shells in pockets, and heading down a field in an old pick up truck to go dove hunting.  Daddy said that Gerald always wanted to hunt away from the light wires.  And for good reason, Mr. Gerald would kill his dove's from the light wires! They didn't stand much of a chance of taking off in flight if Mr. Gerald was around.  Same thing for duck hunting.  Basically, Mr. Gerald shot the most of his fowl at almost, and I emphasize almost, at a stand still.
     Mr. Gerald was not the only one who loved hunting on the Island.  The Leary brothers Scooter and Benny Charles, Mitchie Ray Midgett, and Edward Bennett are probably some of the best known hunters and trappers around.  It's almost like they have a sixth sense about the life cycles and biology of animals.  Otters, bear, birds, deer and even terrapin turtles couldn't hide from these men. It's like they had a premonition of where and how these animals lived.
     One story I do recall was about a certain duck hunter who was heading out the creek by boat to bait his blinds.  His boat was so loaded down with corn, that it began to take on water.  As the boat was sinking, the corn started floating all around.  And as the corn began floating around, the ducks began to come.  Weren't nothing for the hunter to do but to begin shooting at those ducks, standing in a sunken boat with the bait scattered all over the bottom. 
     In high school, I had an Island classmate who loved to go hunting on the way to school.  Most of the time, if some of us Lowlanders caught a ride to school with him, we had to ride along the back roads all the way to Bayboro.  For most of us, we'd been better off to have rode the school bus those mornings than to ride around listening to CB chatter and looking for a deer.  But one morning, he got lucky on his way to school.  He shot a bear.  He loaded the dead bear in the back of the truck and went on to school for his early morning English class.  It was a trophy bear and I can still recall all the guys "oohing and ahhing" over the kill.
     I am quite sure all of us have some memories of the hunting stories on the Island. I think the hunters on our Island know they are in a hunters paradise.  It's a place where they can escape their daily burdens and park themselves in the great outdoors.  Seeing ducks 'lighting" in the horizon or the low grunt of a bear walking across the marsh, the hunters of the Island appreciate the natural abundance of wildlife we have here.  The natural landscape of marshland, flooded fields or the tall pine hammocks, make for many beautiful sunrises and we have been blessed that our little slice of heaven has been left untouched.
   

Lessons in Life. Our Veteran's Stories.

L-R, Freddie Lewis, Floyd Campen, Gene Lupton, Tina Foreman Beacham
Photo courtesy O.B. Howerin

     Veteran's Storytelling, Saturday, November 10, 2012

     It's Veteran's Day.  Most of us drop a few lines of remembrance on our Facebook pages or display the American flag.  For me, I learned a truly remarkable lesson this weekend about our Island Veterans and service members.  It was a lesson in sacrifices.
    This past Saturday evening, Gene Lupton, Floyd Campen and Freddie Lewis told about their life experiences of being in the United States Navy and Coast Guard.  All three gentlemen were wonderful storytellers and really offered a glimpse into their lives as servicemen.  From the moment I asked the first question, these men took us back in time....to a time in their lives, where their decision to enter military service would have an enormous and appreciative impact in the present day and in their future.
    To begin the session, I asked for them to talk about the days leading up to their decision to join the service.  Was there someone in the community who had influenced them or was it just a desire to go see the world?  What was going on in the world at the time?  It was the early 1950's and Freddie Lewis had crabbed all summer long and made only $27.00.  Not much money to live off of.  He was newly married to Rhonda Allen and they were trying to make ends meet.  He explained that his father had been a Coast Guardsman, and he knew if he was going to make a better life for him and Rhonda, he needed to do something.  He made his way to Norfolk to the recruiting station and signed up for the Coast Guard.
     For Floyd, he had the opportunity to assist a Coast Guardsman at the old Hobucken Coast Guard Station when it was just a two-story building for aids-in-navigation.  Tom Thumb Caroon was stationed at Hobucken, and on a Christmas Eve night, a beacon light needed repair out in the mouth of Goose Creek.  Tom didn't want to call up any of his men. It was Christmas and they were with their families celebrating the holiday.  So he called up Floyd to come help.  Floyd eagerly met him at the station, rode out the beacon light and they repaired it.  Floyd said, "You know, this could be a good job for me. Riding around in boats, fixing a stray beacon light or marker."  On that night, he was convinced that joining the Coast Guard would be a "fun" job.
     It was  Gene Lupton's senior year of high school.  A Navy recruiter had been to the school looking for new recruits.  Gene had always helped his father on the family farm and working on the water.  It didn't take much for the Navy recruiter to convince Gene that joining the Navy would be an adventure.  Gene graduated on a Friday night and within a couple of weeks he was headed to basic training in Maryland with seven other boys from Pamlico County.
     Freddie and Floyd both went to US Coast Guard basic training in Cape May, New Jersey.  Gene went to Navy basic training in Maryland.  All acknowledged, that to this day they can remember their training instructors and the rigid process that came with "getting them in shape" for their careers.  Freddie remarked that when he arrived in Cape May and was being issued his clothing and equipment, it was the first time in his life he had ever owned two pairs of shoes at one time.  Floyd said his training instructor was a man of 135 pounds "soaking wet" and if you'd have stood him to the head of Oyster Creek on a stiff northeast wind, you could have heard him hollering all the way to Swan Quarter!
     Gene said once he got to Maryland for basic training, over 200 boys from North Carolina was there.  For him, the Navy basic training was only 10 weeks.  Freddie and Floyd had to go for 13 weeks.  Once basic training was over, all of them came home for a couple of weeks to await their orders for their new found careers.  Freddie went to Portland, Maine.  Floyd went to Portsmouth, Virginia and Gene went to Annapolis, Maryland.
     All three men shared many wonderful memories and stories about their careers, their training and their travels.  From their early days in basic training to running supplies via aircraft to Vietnam, the stories they shared was vivid in detail and it was evident they were proud of their accomplishments and proud of their service. Once they got talking and sharing, it was hard for them to stop.  I believe they could have talked until midnight!  But what was most evident of their stories, was all three of these men made sacrifices to better themselves and their families.
     Traveling was a large part of their 20+ year careers.  Gene made many trips to sea on aircraft carriers and C130 airplanes.  Freddie and Floyd on Coast Guard cutters.  All acknowledged that in their early years, they had to leave behind wives, children and their homes to make a better life for their families.  Long stretches at sea, leaving behind the wife to take care of the home, children and family needs was a sacrifice they did not relish.  Whether repairing a channel marker in the Mississippi River, or breaking ice in the North Atlantic for merchant ships to navigate, or making sure our troops had the supplies they needed in Vietnam, these men were committed to stand behind our nation.
     If you missed Saturday nights story telling, you missed a wonderful experience.  Their stories and selfless commitment reinforce life's lessons that we all want our children to learn. By sharing their stories, they have provided our children a deeper history lesson about our communities and our nation. Gene Lupton, Floyd Campen, Freddie Lewis and all of our Island Veterans, service members, and their families are role models.  They have shown young people what it means to be an American. At the heart of their service was their sacrifice for the greater good, a greater country and a greater life. I appreciate all they have told and I hope that by capturing their stories, our future generations can learn from their service.
    

A Tribute to Preston Hubert Potter

A year ago, this past Saturday, Goose Creek Island and Everglades City Florida lost a beloved friend and much loved family member.  His southern charm and wit among natives and non-locals will be forever leave an imprint in our communities.  Hubert passed away in Florida on November 3, 2011 and was laid to rest on the Island he called home on November 12, 2011.  Here are my remarks that I made at his service on his day of rest.

Preston Hubert Potter

1929-2011

     It is good to be home …in this special place we call Goose Creek Island.  Sometimes it is hard to distinguish where family ends and friends begin.  I hope that something I say will speak for everyone who is here today.

     I know that there will probably be someone whom I leave out, but I cannot risk that it should be Aunt Joy Mae.  I am especially sensitive to her and her feelings today. After all, she was married to Hubert for 63 years…a major feat in relationships today…but to be married to Uncle Hubert basically all her life…well she certainly deserves a medal!

     Preston Hubert Potter….what a man…what a legend!  He was "the man"! But he was not a perfect man – but which of us is perfect? But he was a perfect husband, father, grandfather, brother, uncle and friend for us.  Johnny, Billy, Gordon………you had him to yourself when he was in Florida, but when he was in North Carolina…he was ours.  And boy did we have him!

     There will not be a family gathering from this day forward that there will not be a void, but there will be stories that legends are made of.   During many family gatherings…it didn’t matter where…it could be on the front porch, at Granny's, Uncle Muff’s, Aunt Joyce’s, even at my house at Harkers Island…he brought that shine… that uninhibited spirit that just made our day.  Many times I have told him that the only reason we invite him is so we would have someone to talk about.  And guess what…he would smile that big smile with the hearty laugh and say “I want you to talk about me”! Those kitchen table conversations would range from him reminiscing about chaperoning one of the boys on a school trip to the Bahamas, the fishing industry, politics…

     Oh my word politics.  If there has ever been a Democrat more yellow then Uncle Hubert I want to meet them.  He even admitted that IF he had been registered to vote in NC, he would have voted for Barack Obama.  This reminds me of a certain picture that was taken of him in Florida with Uncle Muff, Nathan, and others in it.  Everyone is posing for the picture but Uncle Muff is holding a Bush – Cheney sign in the background.  We have tried to use this picture to blackmail him…it never worked.

     Uncle Hubert would give you advice on everything.  If your lawn mower was broke or you were having problems with your property taxes….anything…Uncle Hubert was a Bob Villa, Dr. Phil and Dr. Ruth all rolled into one.  Yep..he’d even give you advice on your sex life…whether you wanted it or not!  

     His opinions on things…well, he had lots of opinions.  He was the authority on everything…commercial fishing regulations, the National Marine Fisheries Service, the Endangered Species act, the National Park Service…he could tell you what you needed to know and you might not like it!

     Uncle Hubert was a movie star.  When I was little I was shown the movie Flipper, the 1963 classic starring Christopher Plummer.  I was told Uncle Hubert was in this movie and I’ve seen him in it.  Of course in later years, when I was much older and had really gotten to know Uncle Hubert, every time I would watch this movie and see him in it…I would just howl with laughter.  In the movie..you didn’t have to see his face to know it was him.  All you had to do was look for the bow legged man running into the house.  I guarantee somebody today will go home, get on Netflix and order the movie Flipper just so they can see if they recognize him by his bowed legs!

     Even his house has starred in a movie.  Heather was watching the movie Just Cause starring Sean Connery…..and there it was..his house and everything it had to offer was there for the world  to see.  He said he was glad it was in the movie…he wanted everyone to see his priceless possessions. Somewhere in the world today, someone is watching this movie and has made the comment..”My gosh, that house has a lot of stuff underneath it”.  Believe me, there were no props used to film his house.  It was the real deal and he loved it that way!

     Uncle Hubert was an infomercial fanatic, especially when it came to curing medical problems.  His hands were adorned with the finest copper rings money could buy…this cured arthritis.  He said he drank a swallow of peroxide every day.  I never wanted to know what this cured.  Vinegar and honey cured a sore throat.  And who will ever forget his Vitamin O.  For those of you who don’t remember, he was adamant that Vitamin O would cure everything that ailes you…anything from arthritis, bursitis, to tonsillitis. I think he was even a representative or dealer for this product.  Not too long ago somebody spoke of an ache or pain, and of course he mentioned his Vitamin O. We threatened to make some homemade Vitamin O and we wanted him to drink it.  The man swore Vitamin O was the way to go.

     When I think of Uncle Hubert today, I can’t help but smile and laugh.  Just little things, like the Potter Campground of Everglades City, growing collards, the grandchildren calling him Casanova one summer when they were here in NC, the Butch and Skeeter, the Everglades Seafood Festival, and the famous quote “Where’s Hubert?”  The list goes on and on.

     Uncle Hubert was invincible…he was bigger than life.  His memory is going to live forever in our minds.  Each time we are all together, he will be with us in spirit.  I am quite sure his name will be whispered and of course we will share one of our memorable stories of him.

     Goodbye and Godspeed Uncle Hubert, I hope you have fair winds and a following sea on your heavenly journey.  It was good! …and the next time is going to be even better.  As he would say…The best is yet to come!

Political Controversy

Isn't it bizarre what an election or politics can do to people?  Of course, Goose Creek Island is not exempt from their fair share of election or political controversies.  Some recent research about the Island as provided such a story. Me and my sister Heather found a newspaper article about an incident pertaining to a certain government building involving some former Island characters.  What was even more bizarre was this newspaper article was in the Washington Post.  We just loved the title of the story!!  For those of you who have the 1974 Goose Creek Islander history book, you have read the story about The Night in Jail. Well...as Paul Harvey would say....here's the rest of the story.

“Watson's "Disciples" Held.” The Washington Post. East Carolina University Joyner Library, October 1,1917. Web. October 18, 2012.

Telling Our Stories

  
   How many times has each of us heard the story about when the creek froze over? Or the night that Roland Styron ran off the draw bridge?  On Goose Creek Island, there are people who have a knowledge - a way of knowing details of events or even the knowledge of a skill, a skill that has come from experience or has been passed down from generations.  These people are much treasured resources who can share their story.
     I  have begun an oral history project to record these stories of our Island residents.  Their memories have evolved from firsthand knowledge and experience.  Their memories is what creates and shapes our Island life.  Memories of bygone days of fishing, activities that happened at church or at school, working in the fields or at the fish houses, or even stories of tragedy and triumph are valuable to our Island history and heritage. The voices, pictures and the written word are links to our culture and history.
     On Saturday, November 10th, the first storytelling event will take place on Goose Creek Island. Because it is Veteran's Day Holiday, it was only fitting that the first event reflect the memories of our Island veteran's.  Gene Lupton and Floyd Campen have graciously volunteered to let us record their stories.  We are hoping Freddie Lewis will join them as well.  These gentlemen were champions for our country and today are champions in our Island communities. The storytelling event is open to everyone who "wants to hear a story".
     Everyone has a story.  It doesn't have to be historical fact.  It can be a memory of growing up, what happened at work or at home.  Even a story about difficult times and times of rejoicing.  Telling our stories represents a lifetime of unique history.  It provides meaning and identity to "who we are".  I hope you will join us in what we hope will be a series of many more storytelling events on the Island.