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.

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.