Monday, September 5, 2016

Foundations


Wardens Grove FWB Church. Photo by O.B. Howerin.
Last Friday, I went home.  No matter where I am in the world, there is only one home, Goose Creek Island.  I went home to pay my respects to my Granddaddy's brother, Uncle Roscoe Rice.  I went to my home church, Warden's Grove Free Will Baptist Church.

When me and Heather joined Mom and walked up those steps to enter into the vestibule, so many memories began flooding in.  Mom said, "Where are we sitting?"  Of course, me and Heather said we are sitting where we always have, second pew from the back on the right.  This is where we sat so many Sunday's with Granddaddy Mike.  I turned around and could visualize Mr. Carol Ross sitting behind us.  That was his regular seat too.  Not seeing Mr. Carol Ross, I saw Chad Ross.  Another, who always sat with his Granddaddy when he came to the Island.

As I sat in that pew and everything about the sanctuary brought back so many memories.  A glance over to the front left pews, my memory brought back Grandmama Melissa, Uncle Roscoe, Mr. Virgil Lupton, and Ms. Josephine Smith sitting over in what I would call "amen corner".  I looked up to the ceiling.  The same tall, vaulted ceiling that was there in my youth.  The choir loft brought back memories of hearing those many voices "who sang the wondrous love of Jesus".  Mr George Lupton singing in his voice of bass and Miss Lillie Watson and Miss Gladys Midgette singing alto.

The original pine pews are gone.  The floors are now completely carpeted. But the pine flooring underneath still provide the usual creaks and groans when walked across.  I looked at the attendance board beside the choir loft.  Only 25 attended that past Sunday.  Would have been 27, but the Lord was preparing Uncle Roscoe to leave his temporary home and Myrna was by his side.

When I saw "little Henry" and Earl Jr., with all three of us in the same room together again, I thought of all of the Christmas programs we had participated.  I could see the three of us standing in front during Sunday School, singing the children's songs - Jesus Loves Me, This Little Light of Mine, and Zacheus, being lead by Earl Jr.'s mom, Patsy Sadler.

When cousin Nina C made her entrance, the memory of sitting at the little table in her Sunday School class flooded back.  This is where we learned the miracles of the Bible.  Her stories of Jonah and the Whale, Noah's Ark, Moses, and so many more. What a loving instructor we had and is still just as loving today.

As a child growing up, this church is the basis for every bit of my christian education and upbringing.  The foundation of all my formative years were in this church and of the folks who taught me so many things.  The sermons of doctrine, sin and iniquities were mingled with the adventuresome stories of David and Goliath, Jesus feeding the multitudes, and the Tower of Babel.   When you entered its doors, this was the most wondrous place of belonging.  Everyone was accepted here.

Built around 1900, it was originally a Methodist Church and called Bernard's Chapel.  Bernard Carawan, Uncle Roscoe's Great Grandfather helped establish the church and over the generations, the church was remodeled, updated and eventually became the church it is today, Warden's Grove.

Standing in the sanctuary that day, the memories of all the spirits of so many individuals of my past surrounded me.  Within those walls lives a piece of my past.  I will always be forever grateful for my home church and to all of those people who exemplified christian service in their everyday lives, including Uncle Roscoe.  Wardens Grove Free Will Baptist Church will always be a rock of my foundation.
In Honor of my Great Grandmother, Melissa Howerin Rice Lewis.


Sunday, July 31, 2016

An Island of Isolation?


             

           Islands have played a part in fictional stories for years.  The Swiss Family Robinson, Gulliver’s Travels, Lord of the Flies, and the television series Gilligan’s Island were all based on an Island location.  When a writer uses an island as a setting for a story, it provides a backdrop of adventure, isolation, and romance.
            Think about it. When you think of an Island, what comes to mind?  Do you think of tropical, lush landscapes, palm trees, white sandy beaches?  Yeah, I visualize that too. Now think of our coastal island of Goose Creek Island.  I see marsh, wildlife, fishermen, boats and farmers. 

            For those of us from Goose Creek Island, how many times have we heard that we live "isolated from the world". That we are unable to quickly access the convenient comforts in Bayboro and Aurora.  Although those conveniences are a short distance away, isolation can be a good thing.  Everyone here knows each other.  When tragedy strikes, everyone finds a way to help.  When we lose a resident, each one of us feels a connection to the deceased. 

            I think about our ancestors who first settled Goose Creek Island in the 1700’s.  The Island was a testing ground for a new way of life.  They had to travel by boat up the rivers or across the sound to access goods and services.  There was no such thing as the emergency room or dentist office.  They learned to “make do” with the knowledge they were given, how to live off the land and with what they had been given.  In all my research on Goose Creek Island, I have not learned of one family who “starved to death” by living here.

            Our ancestors and those of us today have utilized our surroundings on the Island to make a life of living here.  The rich, black soil has produced many an abundant garden.  The surrounding waters have given us the luxury of a shrimp dinner or a mess of oysters.  Not many folks can say they have that luxury. 
           Even in our materialized world today, I bet there are many Island women who still know how to sew a dress from a Simplicity pattern. We have learned to adapt to the weather and the cycles of drought and rainy seasons. We have learned to be sustainable with the resources we have been given and acquired. We have also learned to do “without”.

            Even though Goose Creek Island isn’t that tropical paradise so many people characterize in an Island, it does offer many enchanting spots – the docks, the creeks, the marsh, the forests.  If one opened their mind and heart, inspiration can be drawn from the abundant nature found here and the many sunrises and sunsets along the shores.
            So all you ‘naysayers’ out there who say they wouldn’t live on Goose Creek Island or to those who can’t grasp the quality of life we experienced growing up in such a wonderful place, I say you have to experience it to appreciate it.   The benefits of being here far outweigh what you think you might be missing.

Sunday, March 20, 2016

The First Day of Spring and Vietnam

Top Photo by B.J. Meece and Bottom Photo Jim Reece


Today is the first day of Spring.  I've been doing a bit of research today and the cool temperatures and the drizzling rain brought to mind a story from the Island.  It's a story of one of our own.

Corporal Elbert Andrew Ballance, the son of Dapthney Ballance Walker and Norwood Walker of Lowland, was in Southeast Asia in the midst of the Vietnam Conflict.  Elbert was 18 years old and was serving in the U.S. Army, HHB, 2nd Battalion, 320th Field Artillery Regiment, 101st Airborne.

In the Thua Thein Province in South Vietnam, Elbert was killed in action by "friendly fire" at landing zone Birmingham on March 16, 1968.  Elbert was not alone. Five other comrades perished with him in that fatal accident that day.

I have spent many days sitting on my Granddaddy Joshua Potter's porch and I have heard several family members mention that sad day when Elbert was brought home and laid to rest.  Granddaddy Joshua's farm is just across the road from Dapthney Ballance Walker and from the Ballance-Leary Cemetery.

I have heard through their stories that it was a cold day much like today and the first of Spring.  The soldiers who accompanied Cpl. Ballance home to lay him to rest had just switched from their cold weather "winter" uniforms to their "spring" uniforms.  The soldiers stood in the cold temperatures in thin clothing to honor a fallen comrade. Standing in Granddaddy Joshua's field, they delivered a 21 gun salute and the haunting trumpet sound of Taps.   I have heard that no matter how cold those fellows were, they never waivered in delivering the final salute to one of their own.

If you ever visit Washington D.C. or have the chance to visit the traveling Vietnam Memorial Wall , his name is among the other 58,300 men and women who died serving their country.  You will find Cpl. Elbert Andrew Ballance's name on Panel 44E, Line 065.  Rest in peace fellow Islander.  Your service to our country will never be forgotten.



Tuesday, March 1, 2016

The Unpleasantness of Fishing


     Throughout the generations of Goose Creek Islanders, commercial fishermen have plied the creeks, rivers, sounds and ocean.  The saltiness in the fishermen expressed the good they saw in their honorable professions of being fishers of men.  In such harsh elements of their work, they witnessed the quietness of sunrises, the beauty of sunsets, porpoises diving in rhythm to the movement of the bow and the mysterious creations that lurked in its depths.
     But in the business of commercial fishing, not all things are pleasant.  With it come the dangers of drastic changes in weather, equipment failures and the unspeakable concern of sinking and possible death.  Sometimes the job of fisherman took on the job of search and rescue and recovery.
     In my search through the Dare County Library Archives for The Coastland Times newspaper, I came across this article in March 1973.  Captain Robbie Mercer had the unpleasant surprise of a dead body in the net of his trawler off the coast of North Carolina.

From The Coastland Times, March 22, 1973

Wednesday, February 24, 2016

Captain George Flowers Reaches Shore Safely

                       Captain George Flowers, wife Elva with children Larry, Julius and John (J.F.) October 1943  Photo Courtesy Lisa Flowers Santimaw

In conclusion to last weeks post about finding numerous articles within the Dare County Library Archives for The Coastland Times newspaper, I found this article about Captain George Flowers of Hobucken, his two sons Julius and Larry, and A.J. Dowdy.  Published September 28, 1956.

Two Disabled Boats Reach Shore Safely

     Two separate work boats were disabled in or near Pamlico Sound over the weekend, reached land safely after spending the night drifting about.
     The boat "Mystery" broke down after leaving Swan Quarter Friday at 1 p.m. en route to Belhaven to be put on the railways.  As a wide spread search was getting underway Monday, word was received that the boat had drifted to Bayview.  Aboard were Mr. and Mrs. Richard Gibbs and Mr. and Mrs. Edward Salter, all of Swan Quarter.
     The second boat was being carried from Belhaven to Hobucken Sunday by Captain George Flowers of Hobucken for a friend who had just purchased it.  Powerless after the engine quit Sunday afternoon, the boat drifted all night and then was poled into Swan Quarter Monday morning.  Aboard with Captain Flowers were his two sons, Julius and Larry Ray, and a third youth, A.J. Doudy, all of Hobucken. 

The Coastland Times, September 28, 1956

Friday, February 12, 2016

1963 & 1970 Hobucken Coast Guard Station in the News


On this dreary, cold, rainy day, I sat down to my computer and decided to go through the Dare County Library's Online Digital Collection.  This online digital collection stores The Coastland Times Newspaper archives.  This newspaper has been published in the Town of Manteo for the Outer Banks Region since July 4, 1935.  It is owned and still operated to this day by the Meekins Family of Manteo.

So on a whim, I began looking for anything published that was related to Lowland and Hobucken.  Because Lowland and Hobucken was so close to Hyde County and had ties to the Wanchese community, I thought I may find some interesting stuff.  The newspaper archives are from 1935 to 2009, so there would be plenty of reading material.

During my search,  I can't count how many Coast Guard reports from Oregon Inlet that I saw.  It seemed that every other Coast Guard report stated that the Clara, run by Ernest Mayo had either run aground, got a net in the wheel, or the clutch went out.  Ernest certainly had his share of the treacherous Oregon Inlet. 

The newspaper archives search came up with various individuals names for fishing violations, residents of the Outer Banks who had visited relatives at Lowland or Hobucken, many obituaries of Island residents, and much more. I found articles about trawlers from our Island fishing along the Outer Banks.  It was interesting reading for such a slow day and I will be publishing some of the interesting things I found in coming weeks.

So knee deep in my search, I came across an article about a hearing concerning the consolidation of Belhaven, New Bern and Hobucken Coast Guard operations to be solely stationed in Hobucken. It seems that the folks in Belhaven desperately tried to retain their facility in that coastal town.  This was 53 years ago that this story was published on February 15, 1963. 

I also found another story concerning the Hobucken Coast Guard Station.  A story was in the newspaper that North Carolina's Congressman, Walter Jones attended a dedication service for the new Coast Guard building at Hobucken on Friday, March 13, 1970.

For those of you interested in looking at the Dare County Library Digital Archives, I have attached the link.  http://darecountynews.advantage-preservation.com/

Here are the articles about the Hobucken Coast Guard Station.
The Coastland Times, February 15, 1963
The Coastland Times, March 19, 1970

Wednesday, January 27, 2016

Nebraska

1998 Map of Hyde County by Bob Parrish

How many of you know where Nebraska is located?  I'm not talking about the State of Nebraska. I'm talking about the little community just across the Sound in Hyde County; Nebraska.  Nestled in between Last Chance,White Plains and Lake Landing, Nebraska could pretty much be a replica of Lowland or Hobucken.

The story I am going to tell you comes from the late Shirley Williamson Ireland.  One of my last visits with her was in New Bern one February 2015 afternoon.  Myself, Ms. Shirley and Lil' Shirley were having dinner in a local restaurant when Ms. Shirley told a story.  The characters in this story is herself and the famous Cullen Williamson.

I assume this story goes back to the 1970's or even very early 1980's. Cullen was over in Hobucken.  He called Shirley and told her that if she was going down to Lyle's that evening, he wanted to go and for her to come pick him up.  So later on that evening, Shirley drove over to Hobucken to pick up Cullen.  When he got in the car, she could immediately tell that he was "a bit under the weather".  To put it more clearly, he was in good spirits and had even drank some.

So Cullen nestled in the passenger seat of her car and they headed towards Lowland.  Within that short distance, Cullen fell fast asleep as the car rolled along.  Shirley made her turn onto Oyster Creek Road.  When she had rounded the first sharp curve Cullen woke up.  About that time, the headlights on the car was shining into the wooded area before you reached Lyle's entrance.   The lights shone on a sign that said NEBRASKA and Cullen's eyes focused in on that word.  In that instant, Cullen looked at Shirley and said, "My God Shirley, how long was I asleep.  I thought we were going to Lyle's?"

The sign that said Nebraska had come from over in Hyde County.  She said someone had put it up on Oyster Creek Rd.   As for Cullen Williamson, if there ever was an Island character he certainly made his mark.  He was a fun, jolly soul and everyone that encountered was sure to remember him.

Thursday, January 21, 2016

A Year of Firsts and Lasts

In Memory Hugh Curtis Foreman


There are some stories that I write that are easy.  Some are cumbersome as I try to find the right words to reflect the topic. And then there are some stories that are hard. This one is hard.

In the past few years of this journal, I have casually mentioned my Dad in a few stories.  But there are many stories that I didn’t write about him.  Stories about how he had contracted “cat scratch fever” as a young boy and was hospitalized in Pungo Hospital. Or the story about him finding a gold coin at the young age of 6 years old and thought his days of poverty were over, only to learn that gold coin was not what it seemed. Or the story about riding to the tobacco market with his Daddy and Poppy.

The hard stories are the ones that you can’t put pen to paper. Like remembering all his days filled with hard work.  His daily grind at Texas Gulf that led to a 40 year career with the company.  The welding work he did for so many commercial fishermen in the community. I can still see him sitting in that big barn with the bright shine of the welding flash reflecting from a piece of steel. The hard work he did to make sure me and Heather had the many things that he did not during his childhood.  

There are the stories of his beloved old English bulldogs. The stories of the many tractor pulls that he drug us to across the state.  The many years that he took us to Raleigh for the state fair, a tradition that continued even after me and Heather had left home.  The stories of him helping those in the community who were in need or needed a helping hand. And of course the hardest story, lung cancer.

From mid November to mid December, me and Heather had watched the strongest man we have ever known diminish so quickly.  The evening before he passed, we both had never prayed so strongly for our dad to be at peace.  The next morning I went in his room.  I sat beside him.  I cried.  I held his hand and I whispered to him.  Those words I will not print here, but he looked at me – his blues eyes, my blue eyes.  At that moment no words had to be spoken.  In the movement of eyes, we knew what the other was saying.  And within the hour, he was gone.

So this year 2016, will be a year of firsts.  We are getting through the days. We are hoping these days of firsts will certainly be better than those days of lasts in 2015.  Yes, we are still reeling of how quickly he is gone from our lives.  From onset to passing, he was gone from our lives within a month. It has been a lot to absorb.  

Me and Heather thank each and every one of you for your kind words of sympathy during this time in which we reflect and remember.  To all of our family, friends and most especially those from our home on Goose Creek Island, and to all the guys who worked alongside him, your compassion and generous support is very much appreciated.  Many blessings to all for 2016.