Dawn, And History Turns A Page on the Pamlico by the late Eugene "Gene" Price

On this dreary, rainy day on Goose Creek Island, I thought I would share a story by the late Eugene "Gene" Price, honored journalist, editor of the Goldsboro News-Argus.  Gene found Goose Creek Island many years ago and had a "camp" at The Pondersosa, Lowland. He spent many weekends here and fell in love with our little Island. This story is from his book  Folks Around Here. Enjoy. 

photo from Snabbserver 

photo from PenBay Pilot

Dawn, And History Turns a Page on the Pamlico 

GOOSE CREEK ISLAND – The wind whipped out of the Northeast. The slate-gray waves of the Pamlico Sound chopped at the net floats with foaming white teeth.

This was a time to fish nets and get back ashore, for the wind was building and it was barely dawn.

Across the Pamlico, only the larger boats ventured out of the mouth of the Pungo to buck the seas.

Fishing a net from a 14-foot aluminum skiff, one pays only passing attention to the big boats, their deep-throated diesels pushing them doggedly down the waterway toward Miami and points beyond.

But one of the boats across that morning was different.

Her bow was high and she sliced through the waves with dignity. Even from two miles one could see she was mahogany and white – and regal.

“Old wealth. She looks like old wealth,”  I whispered to Clip Davis who was helping with the  net. And he watched with silent appreciation.

We dropped the nets, fired up the little outboard engine and headed out to intercept her for a closer look.  One just doesn’t see many like that, though thousands ply the waterway across the Pamlico each year.

"She’s pretty enough to the be the Sequoia,” I shouted to Clip above the engine noise as we bounced toward the rendezvous.

As we closed, the skipper of the big boat looked our way.

We waved, pointed to his fine boat and applauded – and then saluted. The skipper saluted in return.

She passed. And the name on her stern flashed above the bubbling wake: “Sequoia.”

The Sequoia! The President’s yacht!

I crossed her wake and grabbed for the camera and twisted the throttle on the outboard, trying to catch up to get a picture.

But we were a little boat and the seas, this far out, were heavy.

The Sequoia, her noble bow parting the seas move on out of range.

We waved again, but her captain was looking only ahead…to the red and green buoys that marched out of sight down the waterway toward Florida.

“That was the President’s yacht!” We said it almost together from our little boat.

Only it no longer was the President’s yacht – or the American people’s yacht.

It had been for many years – since Mr. Roosevelt and Mr. Truman and General Eisenhower and John F. Kennedy and Mr. Nixon and Mr. Ford…

We looked with wonder at the fine mahogany afterdeck where the great leaders of more than half a century had relaxed and socialized and pondered the imponderables…

But this day, she no longer was the President’s yacht.

President Carter had sold the Sequoia to save money. She went on the block and was sold as a tourist attraction. That hadn’t worked out. And like a great – but old- fire horse, she had been sold again, to pull yet another ice wagon.

No!

Not the Sequoia!

A mile and half away now, she altered her heading slightly due south. Soon she would disappear into the narrow waterway that would take her past Hobucken and Oriental and Morehead City and points on down the coast.

But her noble bow was proud and she would be something apart from and above all she passed.

She was the Sequoia. A part of our great American heritage.

No one could buy that.

The Sequoia seemed to know it.

This Weekend's Community Spirit Success

If you didn't make it out to the Goose Creek Island Fall Festival and Halloween event this weekend, you certainly missed a treat. With the help of volunteers and a some creative geniuses, a group came together and produced a successful event for our Island. Proceeds from the event benefitted the Community Center, the Fire Department and for future events.

photo by Jordan Hopkins

Me and Joe were so humbled and inspired by the outpouring of community spirit when we arrived to support the event. Hot dogs, chili boats, popcorn, kids running around, games, sweets, friends and family fellowship and an overall sense of goodwill were evident in the atmosphere. By the way, Joe said they were the best hot dogs he's ever ate!

Many of us remarked about the past Haunted House and Halloween events - boy if the kids today could have been around 40 years ago! We also reminisced about the camaraderie and service of that special Island group called the Tidewater Ruritan Club and how those members supported so many community service projects in our community. But most importantly, the conversations turned to, "we need more of this on the Island."

Friends, the wheels are turning. In order for a community to survive we have to support its needs. Whether it is putting together a community event such as the Fall Festival or even doing a road-side cleanup, community fellowship, goodwill, and spirit is essential for a community's survival. Let's face it, our community leaders are not getting any younger and their fine example of community service exemplifies so much of our Island spirit. Us younger folks have to step up and keep the torch going.

50 years ago, the Tidewater Ruritan Club was formed with over 40 charter members from our Island. Their commitment to supporting our Island was phenomenal. They charted the course in providing for the needs of the community as a whole. They maintained and kept the Hobucken School available for a wide variety of events, promoted and fund-raised to build our Volunteer Fire Department, and were a driving force behind our Annual Island Homecoming Event. They were also stewards to benevolent causes on the Island as well as assisting whatever need that involved community. 

I'm putting it out there and will be willing to help, organize, or even promote - we need to re-establish the vision and mission of the former Ruritan Club in forming a civic organization. By coming together as a community voice, we can help support the Goose Creek Island Community Development Association in maintaining the Community Center. We can step forward and help the Volunteer Fire Department with fundraisers. We can come together and begin planning our 150th or Sesquicentennial Celebration in 2024. We've got many cemeteries that need volunteer clean-ups. We've also got a 120 year old church that needs a helping hand with a few maintenance projects. And we all know, come February we will need to clean-up our roadways after hunting season.

If you are interested in keeping this past Saturday nights community spirit alive, let's talk! 

Thank You! Thank You! Thank You! to those who made it happen Saturday night! It was wonderful and we look so forward to more in the future! 

PS - Save The Date! Santa and Mrs. Claus is coming to Goose Creek Island December 17th.

Easter on the Island

We're well past the official beginning of Spring, but for me, the true marker of the spring season is Easter. Easter has always been my favorite holiday and what better way to celebrate than to be on the Island. Nature wakes up from it's winter slumber, the fields and creeks come alive. I thought sharing this story by Gene Price would be 'fitting' for Easter. Happy Easter to everyone from me and Joe.

Reprinted from Folks Around Here, by Gene Price.

GOOSE CREEK ISLAND - John Steinbeck called it "the hour of the pearl."

It's that interlude between darkness and day "when time passes to examine itself."

At my camp on Goose Creek Island, a chorus of awakening birds provides background music for that time of soul-searching.

The birds begin their symphony before the lights come in most homes clustered in the village of Lowland near the confluence of Goose Creek and Pamlico River.

Thanks to an alarm clock with a propensity to go off an hour early, I crawled out of my sleeping bag earlier than usual on this Easter morning.

Four-thirty, I found, is a good time to stretch and scratch and have a cup of coffee while listening to the night sounds. And then to drive slowly around the still-sleeping community in my old pick-up, windows down so as not to miss the fading whip-poor-wills and the early-rising wrens.

My path took me by the Watson family cemetery and the Lowland Disciples of Christ Church. That had been the denomination of my boyhood in the Elizabeth City mill district. So, a forgivable pause for reflection as the truck idled by...

Obviously something was going to happen here this day. In the cemetery, some talented stagehands had erected a replica of the tomb where Jesus of Nazareth had been placed after the crucifixion. The stone had been rolled away.

To the northeast, across the road by the cemetery, a path of fronds led from an entranceway through what depicted a flowering Garden of Gethsemane. And in the distance, silhouetted against the early morning sky, three crosses.

As morning broke, young people came, dressed as those of that period. And townspeople made a pilgrimage through the garden and listened as the Rev. Bobby Waters told of the events of that time more than 2,000 years ago.

Youngsters silently acted out the drama - the trial and the sentencing and the washing of the hands.

As those who had come moved on toward the cemetery, their attention was called to the eastern horizon. Three of the community's young people now hung from the crosses.

Then there was the scene at the empty tomb and the message from the angels.

And from the garden of azaleas in the distance, accompanied by excited members of the cast, strolled a handsome young man, bearded and in a flowing white gown.

Those who had come burst into song, "He Lives!"

Sunrise services were held throughout the Christian world that Easter morning. But on this Island, during the "hour of the pearl," this little community produced a real gem. 

My Camp's Front Porch Toilet - by the late Eugene "Gene" Price

Eugene "Gene" Price, honored journalist, editor of the Goldsboro News-Argus,  former press secretary to US Rep. Herbert C. Bonner, member of the N.C. Wildlife Resources Commission, sadly passed away in January 2019. Gene found Goose Creek Island many years ago and had a "camp" at The Pondersosa, Lowland. He spent many weekends here and fell in love with our little Island, the river, the creeks, the skies, and the people that make our Island beautiful. Sadly, I was unable to interview him before his passing but we had corresponded before he became ill. His daughter Sue has passed on a few stories of his time on Goose Creek Island and she remarked how much he loved to go to "the camp." I recently purchased his book Folks Around Here. It is dotted with his stories and several are of his time at Goose Creek Island. Here is one that I am sure you will enjoy. 

Gene on the porch of his camp on Goose Creek Island

Photo courtesy of Sue Price Johnson

My Camp's Front Porch Toilet

GOOSE CREEK ISLAND - Despite all it's shortcomings, perhaps my camp here on the island should be in the Guinness Book of Records. Its toilet is on the front porch.

There's a reason for that of course. When I first bought the camp some 30 years ago it had a commode located in the cement block utility room which now houses a couple of outboard motors, two barrels of nets, an array of tools, assorted waterfowl decoys, leaky waders and equally leaky boots, cans of useless paint and an assortment of gummed up and dried paint brushes (also useless), and an antique Underwood typewriter, along with several mostly empty bottles of "spirits."

It was a perfectly good commode.

But it had a problem. It would flush - but it wouldn't swallow. 

I tried numerous approaches to the problem, such as pouring all sorts of guaranteed solutions into the bowl, letting them "set" for the appointed time before flushing. All with the same lack of results. The woods around the camp had become pockmarked with little squares of white (well, slightly streaked) paper as testimonials to my plumbing failures. 

In exasperation, I appealed to my good Goose Creek Island friend John Collins to find someone who could solve the problem. 

"Oh," assured John, "it won't be a problem, Vernell (Ballance) and I can fix it right up. We just got to raise the commode."

"Whatever it takes..." I insisted.

On my next trip to the Island, I made my mandatory stop at John's house in "downtown" Lowland. (Not to stop and have a drink with John was to be subjected to a subsequent lecture on my having treated him "mighty shabby."

"Cap'n Gene!" John greeted me, "did you bring your Kodak!" (To John, all cameras were Kodaks.)

I assured John I always brought my Kodak. And he admonished that we just had to get "a picture of the toilet."

Encouraging news indeed! Until we arrived at the camp.

Pursuing their diagnosis of the problem, John and Vernell had removed the commode, poured an eight-inch high square concrete base and reinstalled the stool. Then dutifully flushed it. Disappointingly, and characteristically, the commode flushed - but failed to "swallow."

Undeterred, John and Vernell raised it another eight inches - with the same results. And a third time...

When I entered the utility room, the commode was just the right height for me to walk up to it, rest my chin on its front and "throw up." I could sit on it, but would have to lean way forward to keep my back from hitting the rafters. And it still wouldn't "swallow."

John and I spent the next morning probing for the septic tank. And found it - partially under the front porch. And considerably uphill from the utility room where the commode reigned on its new throne.

That afternoon, in keeping with Plumbing 101, John and I removed the commode from its impressive roost and installed it on the front porch. Straight downward shot to the septic tank! And its been flushing and swallowing there ever since. 

We enclosed that corner of the porch, of course. And in deference of modesty of some visitors, we even hung a previously discarded shower curtain over the toilet door. 

Need Directions on Goose Creek Island?

The Canal

Picture this in your mind. 

Someone who has never been to Goose Creek Island is riding around the Island. Maybe they're looking for someone's house or out sight-seeing. 

They're lost because they have no cell phone signal to look at their GPS. 

Scene One: You're feeding the ducks at Pate Boatyard (pretend you are Lucille Sadler) and they stop by and ask, "I'm trying to get to the Community Center." 

As a true Goose Creek Islander, how would you steer them in the right direction?

Answer: "Well, the Community Center is over there where the old school used to be, across from the Funny Farm. Just go down this road a ways and turn left at Alcock's corner. Once you turn at Alcock's Corner, the community center is over on the left, right there where the old baseball field used to be. If you go too far, watch out for Nelvin, he's the Island police officer. He might wave you down and stop you. If you're lucky you may get by with a warning ticket."

Scene Two: You're hanging net in your yard (let's pretend it's Mitchie Ray and Scooter at Scooter's house) and a car pulls up, lost. They're looking for the place to buy some of those I & M Oysters. 

Answer: "Well, you're close. Just go back 'out the road' and make a left to go 'Round the Horn'. Go 'round the road' till you see Oyster Creek Road. Turn right, you will go around a couple of sharp turns. The last sharp turn is there at Brown's, but go on to the end. I & M Oysters is there at the landing. Watch out for the water, we've got a moderate North East breeze."

Our sense of direction is a real Island developed language. Those that are unknowing to our ways of Island directions really can't understand if they're coming or going. Here is some Island navigational words and locations that true Islanders understand.

Out The Road - direction depends on if you are coming or going

Down the Road - again, direction depends on if you are coming or going

'Round the Road - you're going around the loop 

Around the Loop - you're going 'Round the Road

"Round the Horn - you're going around the loop road depending on location 

Up The Prong - one always goes Up the Prong, never Down the Prong

At The Landing - well, that depends, whose Landing you're trying to get to? 

Going to the Store - again, that depended on whose store you where going to (none exist now)

The Canal - that's an easy one, the small section of canal that was dug for the Intracoastal Waterway. The Coast Guard Station is located on 'The Canal'. 

Springs Creek - that little section of homes between Hobucken and Lowland

Potter Ditch - the main lead ditch you cross as you come into Lowland.

The Marshes - former settlement in the area in the marshes beyond where the pavement runs out in Hobucken

Drum Creek - just down past where the pavement runs out in Hobucken

Out to Middle Bay - the end of the dirt road once you pass the Marshes and Drum Creek

Jimmy's Hole - an old boat basin at the end of Doll's Creek Rd. 

Foot The Road - the end of the road in Lowland, overlooking Goose Creek. 

Alcock's Corner - at the intersection of Hobucken Rd. and Schoolhouse Rd. 

Clark's Corner - at the intersection of Lowland Rd. and Middle Prong Rd., where you turn to go Up the Prong. 

There's really no way you can get lost on Goose Creek Island. It's pretty much one way in and one way out. 

Maybe I need to compile a Goose Creek Island Map showing those place names and features for newcomers and visitors. Some once prominent places have since disappeared but the names are still very much used, such as the school house, Miss Lela's, or the Honky Tonk. Nevertheless, the local names for many geographical areas on the Island persist in our language, especially among us native born Islanders. 

I am so thankful that we still use these names and phrases today. Now, how many of you know where Sally's or Browns is at?

An Island Hug for this New Year

Photo By Greg Ballance. Sunset December 30, 2019 Goose Creek Island

The Island can be nosy. Everyone knows everything about you.

The Island can be opinionated. There is no shortage of people, all generations, who feel they know "best" and their opinion should be followed.

The Island can be judgmental. Makes one wonder if you laughed to loud at an inappropriate joke or provided that opinion, will you be snubbed?

The Island holds grudges from last month, last year, and the last decade like it happened yesterday.

Quite frankly, the Island can be stifling, like a strong hug that is at first comforting but too tight and lasts too long. Hugs are tricky like that.

Grudges, snubs and arguments are part of Island life. They do get tossed aside when something happens to an Islander. Potluck dinner is put together overnight when someone on the Island is sick. Baby and bridal showers are attended by almost everyone. Grass mysteriously gets mowed for an older resident who has left the Island for the day. We are gifted at comforting and loving our people.

Don't get me wrong, the Island does have its cliques, but none no stronger than being an Islander. Being an Islander means there is always someone around to vent to, to talk to, to offer a kind word, a prayer, to share a cup of coffee, or a beer. Someone to laugh with, to cry with or to lean on.

Yes, that stifling hug that is too tight and too long is our Island's greatest strength. But to move forward, sometimes that all-encompassing, giant hug needs to relax so we don't get stuck in our tracks. That is what is so special about being here.

As we move into a new year and new decade, I hope the Island continues to be forever our strong and harmonious home. We have so much to appreciate from our past. And our present continues to provide the care of keeping our Island strong. But I look forward to our Island future and the continuance of our community strengths through innovations and progress. So in 2020, lets honor our past by living in the present to plan for our Island future.

Happy New Year
Tina

The Old Cemetery at Peyton's Point

Last August, just before Hurricane Florence, I had the pleasure of spending the day with my cousin Richard Lewis of Elizabeth City.  Richard had come "home" for a week to spend time at his home, the former Jonah and Ollie Lewis homeplace, to do some fishing and visit with friends and family.

One day while Richard was home, me and Joe launched the pontoon boat at Oyster Creek and Richard hopped aboard for a cruise around the Island.  The day was absolutely beautiful.  We headed out Oyster Creek and then turned into the River.  We stayed close to shore as we traveled towards Goose Creek.  We marveled at how much River Shore had changed. The ever present Indian Island in the distance was no longer that grand island of yesteryear, but still held the same presence of mystery in its decline.

A couple of sailboats were making their way across Pamlico River and soon fell in behind us as we entered Goose Creek.  We passed Fulford's Point, talking about the days of swimming there and how many souls were baptized in those shallow waters.  We soon made our way to Dixon Creek and "foot the road".

As we got closer to Peyton's Point and entering Dixon's Creek, we began searching for the old cemetery located on Peyton's Point.  Eventually, I was able to spot a headstone along the shore. We eased the boat up to the shore and tied up to a tree.  Me and Richard climbed out and within a few steps we found the cemetery I had always heard about, but had not ever visited.

Laying at rest among the pines and scrub oaks are Edward and Sarah Clark, along with Martha Buck, Henry and Thomas Clark. Although the cemetery is starting to decline from the elements of erosion, nearby flowers still bloomed that had been planted many years ago.

I am glad we took the time to visit Peyton’s Point and to witness the final resting place of these folks on this little secluded peninsula over looking Goose