Friday, December 28, 2012

Thank You for this Amazing Journey

Hello Everyone!

     I wanted to take this opportunity to thank all of you from the bottom of my heart for all of your love and support for the Goose Creek Island Journal and Goose Creek Island Album.
     With sincere gratitude, thank you all for sharing memories, stories, forwarding the journal to friends and family, and identifying residents and places. I am also thankful for the wonderful messages of encouragement.  It is a privilege and honor to share with you and for all who have generously shared with me.
     It is so wonderful to be connected with each one of you.  I wish each of you a Happy New Year.  I pray each of your lives will be ever-changed for the better with the amazing, magical, joyful love that all of us share on Goose Creek Island.

Please click on the link below for a video presentation of Goose Creek Island.  Turn your volume on.



Thank you Ballance, Potter, Sadler, Spain, Howerin, Lewis, Henries, Jones, Lupton, Leary, Ireland, Barnett, Watson and Spencer Families for sharing the photos in the video.  Also many thanks to New Vision PH Church for the use of their fellowship hall for our oral history recordings.

Special thank you to Adrian Henson Photography and Heather Foreman Henson for compiling the video.  

Saturday, December 22, 2012

Just Thinking About Christmas' Past

Christmas is just around the corner.  Just a few more days left and the magic of Santa Claus will be delivering his gifts.  I awoke this morning thinking about some of the gifts I had received when Santa Claus used to visit.  The arrival of the Sears catalog marked the beginning of the Christmas season for me.  Oh, how many times did I thumb through that book.  The back of that catalog was magical!  I thought I would share with you some of those toys that I remember receiving.

Banana Bike

This was the first bicycle I remember getting from Santa.  I know that I had a small red one with training wheels before, but I can still see that yellow and white banana bike sitting beside the tree.  It had those shiny streamers hanging from the handle bars and a white basket in front.  I can also remember that it was the first Christmas we had in the newly remodeled house; I don't think Heather was even born yet.


Weeble Woobles

"Weebles wooble but they don't fall down!" I loved these!  Of all the presents that I had gotten over the years, I believe I may have played with the Weeble Woobles more than anything.



Match Box Cars
Spirograph
10 Speed Bicycle
Lite Bright
Viewmaster
Kewpie Doll

I loved all of the presents I received from Santa Claus over the years.  Thinking back, I do not recall one present that kept us from wanting to go outside and play.  Me and Heather had always received something that we could play in the yard.  A basketball, a pogo stick, and bicycles. I even think Heather may have gotten a fishing rod and tackle box one Christmas.  Unlike children today, we never stayed in the house much.  Most of the time, the baby dolls, matchbox cars, and games followed us to the yard.  We could have more fun on a gravel rock pile with matchbox cars than a child today playing video games in front of the TV.

Remember on Christmas Eve night, how we all gathered at the church for our Christmas Program?  It never failed, Mom and Dad would let us open one gift on Christmas Eve before going to the church. It was always a Christmas dress for us to wear that night.  Do you remember Ms. Patsy Sadler directing us in the Christmas play and then getting us to sing "Here Comes Santa Claus" to get Santa to come visit?

Afterwards, we would go riding around the Island looking at the Christmas lights.  I can still see Ms. Bertie Ireland's house with all those large, lit yard decorations she would have.  How about Mr. Freeman Ireland's house?  He had Santa in his sleigh and all of the reindeer on the roof of his house.

All of us have special Christmas memories of years past.  The toys, the Christmas lights, the church, and our family.  I encourage you to take a moment out of your busy holiday preparations and think about your Christmas' memories.  Merry Christmas!

Thursday, December 20, 2012

The Lewis Family Christmas Tradition continues....

 Doris Lewis & Juston Lewis receiving a Christmas present. A photo of their family home in Lowland.
Photo courtesy Tina Foreman Beacham (C)
 It began over 60 years ago with six children and a promise to each other that they will always celebrate Christmas together.

That promise was fulfilled again this past Sunday, when the descendants of Jonah and Ollie Lewis of Lowland gathered for their annual family Christmas party in Norfolk, VA.

“We were taught to celebrate family,” said Juston Lewis, the youngest child of Jonah and Ollie.  It was quite evident that a strong sense of family, fun and gathering together was what their Christmas party is all about.

Over 70 family members, representing over four generations celebrated at the Roosevelt Gardens neighborhood clubhouse, hosted by Doris Lewis Riddle, the only surviving daughter of Jonah and Ollie.  They shared a meal, countless desserts, rejoiced in their many accomplishments for the year, and spoke of countless memories of being together.

The first gathering was held in the early 1950's by daughter Doris.  Since that first family Christmas gathering, each sibling has played host.  Even though Derlie, Mae, Tincy and Marcus have passed, their children and grandchildren continue to honor the tradition as their parents would. 

It was evident that all who had gathered did so out of loyalty and respect for their family.  They are keeping a tradition alive.  When I asked cousin Doris the reason they all still gather, she said it was simple. “It’s love,” she said. “That’s what it is.”

Photo courtesy Tina Foreman Beacham (C)
Photo courtesy Tina Foreman Beacham (C)
Photo courtesy Tina Foreman Beacham (C)
Photo courtesy Tina Foreman Beacham (C)

Tuesday, December 18, 2012

A Christmas Tree from "Down the Creek"

Down the Creek. Photo courtesy Aimee Leary Rowe.

Aimee Leary Rowe is the daughter of Sharon Leary and the late Benny Charles Leary.  Aimee, along with her husband William and two sons live in Lowland. As the only child of Benny Charles and Sharon, Aimee was both daughter and son.  Not only did she do all those things that girls do growing up, she also had to do the "boy things".  Hunting, crabbing, and trapping were included.  Aimee has shared a Christmas story.  Enjoy!

     One Christmas, Mama told Daddy that she needed the Christmas Tree out of the attic.  I overheard Daddy mumble that he had traps to set and things to do; he'd do it later.  I've always said that Daddy wasn't happy unless he was down the creek or stomping through the marsh.  Daddy left in his little Datsun truck, high tailing it to what ever made him happy.  As he pulled out of the driveway Mama said, "I guess we won't have a Christmas Tree."
     Growing up, I enjoyed looking through all our picture albums. I remember coming across Christmas photos of Daddy's family, the Learys.  Pictures of Christmas' that were taken before I was born. I came across one picture.  It was probably taken in the late 1960's.  It was a Christmas picture and the only child in it was David, son of Uncle Roland Jr and Aunt Ila. David was the first grandchild in the Leary family.   In this picture I noticed that the Christmas tree was real and looked as if it came straight out the woods. So, when Daddy came home, I approached him with the idea of going" down the creek" to look for our own live Christmas Tree. Of course, he agreed.
     So bright and early the next morning, we bundled up and headed out. I thought we would be looking for a tree and heading home. Nope, we were looking for otter crossings.  We had to set traps. We then had to set nets. Finally, after all these tasks, we began looking for a tree.  I remember we looked and looked and looked. I knew we had to bring home the perfect tree or Mama would say, "See you should've gotten the one out of the attic."
      Finally, we found a tree! I was a first timer at picking out trees. I thought me and Daddy had done pretty good.  When we drove up to the house with the tree hanging out the bed of the truck, Mama was standing on the back porch with her hands in her hips.  I knew by her expression that she was thinking, 'good heavens'. Me and Daddy unloaded and set the tree up. In my mind, I was thinking, it was the ugliest tree on earth and I knew Mama thought the same thing. She never voiced it but our feelings were mutual. I heard Daddy say, "Sharon there you go. She's all yours!" All  I could see was Mama setting fire to it.  But, she never said a word.  We got busy and decorated the ugliest tree on Goose Creek Island.
     When you're young, Christmas trees are exciting. It doesn't matter how big, how small or how ugly. The tree was confirmation that Santa would be on his way.
     I will never forget that Christmas. Because that was the ONLY year that we ever had a live "from down the creek" Christmas Tree.

Merry Christmas from Aimee Leary Rowe and her family, William, Charles, Aaron and mother Sharon. 

Saturday, December 15, 2012

No Santa Claus

 
     My husband Tommy is a Core Sounder.  Born and raised on the shores of Core Sound in Carteret County, he will quickly tell you that he's married a "woodser" from "across the sound".  Yes, those Core Sounder's really have a way with words. Their brogue is so salty, sometimes I even have trouble figuring out what they are talking about. 
     Even though Tommy will calls me a "woodser" (that is a Core Sounder's term for people who live over in Pamlico County, in the woods or as they would say, "across the sound"), Tommy has some "woodser" in him too!  His great great grandparents Lewis Tull and Lizzie Williamson are buried in the McGowan's Cemetery in Lowland.  He also has relatives on the Island; Uncle Sam Williamson's folks.
   When Lewis Tull and Lizzie Williamson's children were old enough to 'strike out' on their own, their  oldest son Sam chose to stay on Goose Creek Island. Their second son Tull went to Carteret County.  Tull is the grandfather of my mother-in-law Helen Williamson Beacham.  Tull is also the father of
Clifford Lewis "Sonny" Williamson who is the famed coastal "fish house liar", storyteller extraordinaire and author of many coastal heritage books.  Sonny resides in the Carteret County community of Marshallberg.
    Several years ago, Sonny completed a book about his life growing up in Down East Carteret County.  In the book Salt Spots for Breakfast, Sonny told a story about Christmas.  The story warmed my heart as I was taken back to the late 1930's in the little seaside village of Sea Level.

From Salt Spots for Breakfast by Sonny Williamson

     Life was pretty good back then.  Good until Tullie got in one of his teasing moods. "NO SANTA CLAUS" he called out over and over again.  I ran all the way to the Post Office to Aunt Josie the day Tullie dropped that bomb on me.  "There's no Santa Claus", he jeered.  "Even little dummies like you know that."  My brother was only seven years older'n me, so, "How much does he know anyway?"  I was thinking and hoping that Santa never came to see him.
     Aunt Josie was a lot older than Mama and she never had any kids so she was like the grandmother I never had.  She was not gushy, never had been.  I fled to her because I knew she would be straight with me. I also knew that the truth went down a whole lot easier when taken with one of her famous fig-stuffed light rolls.  I also knew that she would be at the Post Office, she was always there, that was her job, in back of the building was her home.  Between bites I told her everything. As usual she was ready for me.
     "NO SANTA CLAUS!?"  She snorted. "Ridiculous! Don't you believe it.  That rumor has been going around for years and it makes me mad, just plain mad.  Now put your coat back on, and let's go."
     "Go, go where Aunt Josie?" I asked.
     "Where" turned out to be Mr. Tine's General Store, Oyster Factory and Fish House, the only store in Sea Level that had a little bit of just about everything.  As we walked through its doors, Aunt Josie handed me five dollars.  I had never seen that much money in one place before. I guess I looked awful funny standing in the middle of the store with my mouth hanging open.
     "Take this money and buy something for someone who needs it.  I'll wait down by the candy counter."  Then she turned and walked away.  I was only six years old.  I'd often gone shopping with Mama and sometimes with Daddy, but never had shopped for anything all by myself.
     All of the sudden the store seemed big and crowded.  I knew many of the older men sitting in a circle around the big pot bellied stove, but they even looked different and little frightful.  For a few minutes I just stood there, wondering what to buy and who on earth to buy it for.  Suddenly I thought of Bobby Decker.  He sat right behind me in Ms. Lois' first grade class.  Bobby didn't have a coat.  I knew that because he never went out at recess during the winter.  He always said he didn't like to play silly girl games but I knew different.  I fingered the five-dollar bill with growing excitement.  I would buy Bobby Decker a coat.  I settled on a red corduroy plaid one that had a hood to it.  It looked real warm.  He would like that.
     That evening after supper, Aunt Josie helped me wrap the coat in Christmas paper and ribbons, and to write "To Bobby - From Santa" on it.  She said that Santa always insisted on secrecy and for it to have the special Christmas Spirit we could never tell.  Then she walked with me over to Bobby Decker's house, explaining as we went that I was now and forever one of Santa's secret helpers.  She and I crept noiselessly and hid in the bushes by the front door.
     When everything was clear Aunt Josie gave me a nudge.  "All right, Santa Claus," she whispered, "get going."  I took a deep breath, dashed for his front door, threw the present down on his steps, pounded on his door and flew back to the safety of the bushes and Aunt Josie.  From there we watched Bobby come to the door, look all around and pick up his present from Santa.
     Sixty-five years hasn't dimmed the thrill of that moment shivering, both from cold and excitement, crouched beside Aunt Josie, hid in Bobby Decker's bushes.
     Later that night, as I lay snuggled in my feather bed where Mama had lovingly tucked me, I realized that those awful rumors about Santa Claus were just what Aunt Josie said they were. Ridiculous.
     Santa was alive and well and I was on his team.  Still am.

Friday, December 14, 2012

In Memory of George Jarvis Sr., Last Traditional Boatbuilder

 
     George Magellan Jarvis Jr., the last traditional boat builder of Goose Creek Island died Thursday, Dec. 13, 2012, in Beaufort. He was 83. He is a member of Wardens Grove Free Will Baptist Church. He is a U.S. Army veteran of the Korean War.
     He is survived by his wife of 63 years, Nina Jarvis; his son, George T. Jarvis of Alliance; four daughters, Barbara Jarvis of Alliance, Patty Loftin and Janet Hammond, both of Beaufort and Penny Jarvis of Newport; one sister, Wanda Sapper of Texas; seven grandchildren; and five great-grandchildren.
     A graveside service will be held 2 p.m. Saturday, Dec. 15, at Wardens Grove FWB Church Cemetery with the Rev. Earl Sadler Jr., the Rev. John Carawan and the Rev. John Hill officiating and military honors by Pamlico County VFW Honor Guard.
     The family will receive friends immediately following the service. In lieu of flowers, the family suggested memorial contributions be made to Hospice of Pamlico County, PO Box 959, Bayboro, NC 28515; Hospice of Carteret County, PO Drawer 1619, Morehead City, NC 28557; or Voice of Freedom, 234 Snow Hill St., Ayden, NC 28513 or PO Box 30310, Greenville, NC 27833.

Online condolences to the family may be made at bryantfuneralhomeandcrematory.com.
Arrangements are by Bryant Funeral Home & Crematory, Alliance.

Tuesday, December 11, 2012

A College Christmas Story

Photo courtesy East Carolina University Digital Records Collection
     
My Uncle Joshua "Muff" Potter, Jr. has always been a storyteller.  At family gatherings he is always educating us about the rules of a football game or telling us stories about something that happened in his life.  Stories about growing up on the family farm, leaving Lowland to go off to college, playing baseball and even tales of "thumbing" from Bayboro to the Island at night.  I recently asked if he would share a Christmas story and he generously offered.  Here is his story about his freshman year at East Carolina University.

     In August of 1963, I made the 60 mile journey from Goose Creek Island to the "big city" of Greenville to begin my studies at East Carolina College (.it changed to East Carolina University my senior year in 1967).  Sure, I had been to Greenville many times with Daddy when he went to the tobacco warehouses, but this was the first time I had ever been away from home.  I had settled in to my studies and before I knew it, the first quarter had come to an end.  I remember returning home to Lowland that first Christmas I was away at college.  I came home very discouraged and embarrassed.  I had failed English.
     During that first quarter, I had maintained grades in the low 80's.  That was nothing to brag about but I was passing comfortably.  My freshman year the East Carolina College English Department implemented what was called the "departmental theme".  In order to be able to take the final exam in English class, one had to pass the theme.  I will never forget it for two reasons.  First of all, for the impact it made on me.  Secondly, it was on the day that President John F. Kennedy was assassinated - November 22, 1963.
     I had struggled all through the night writing the theme in what was called a little "blue book."  It turned out to truly be a "blue book" for me, because when my paper had been graded by three professors outside of the English Department, I had gotten a failing grade.  Therefore, I could not take the final exam and thus failed the course. To say the least, I was devastated.
     I came home for the Christmas holiday break. I had to tell Mama and Daddy what had happened.  To me it was unfair to base passing or failing a course on one theme, especially after having passing grades for the whole quarter.  I was so upset that I told them that I did not want to return to East Carolina College.  If that was the way college worked I was ready to quit.
     To my surprise, Daddy told me that it was okay to quit....if that was what I wanted to do.  To this day I do not know whether he was seeing how I would react or whether he thought he would be saving money by me returning home to help on the farm.  Daddy did say that I would have to work on the farm with him if I stayed home.
      I pondered what he had said and throughout the holiday break, I thought of all the manual labor that kept a small farm going. I thought about things like working in tobacco, from the plant beds to transplanting, to chopping, to poisoning, to cultivating, to topping, to suckering, to pulling sand lugs and tips, to working in dry tobacco.  All these labor intensive jobs came to mind.  I even thought of weeding the soy beans of "cuckle burrs".  I also thought of having to use that back breaking bush axe to shrub the ditches.  So after some serious thought over the holidays and thinking about the consequences for quitting school, guess what?  I found myself hitching that ride back to Greenville to begin the next quarter at East Carolina College.
      In retrospect, I am so thankful that I did.  Some wonderful things happened to me as a result of continuing my education.  One is that I got a chance to play college baseball.  But greatest thing is that a fellow baseball team mate was instrumental in leading me to the Lord.  As a result of that, I met a wonderful Christian woman.  The love of my life, my wife, friend and companion, Alberta Jenkins Potter.  I have been truly blessed because of that one turning point in my life. 

Wishing you all a very blessed Merry Christmas!

Joshua "Muff" Potter, Jr.







Friday, December 7, 2012

Our Greatest Generation.

     
     Today, flags are flying at half staff in remembrance of Pearl Harbor Day, the day 71 years ago when Japan attacked the United States.  Many books and films have been produced reflecting on that day.  Some of them have been glamorized, yet when you talk with a Veteran, there was nothing glamorous about war. I do not know of anybody from Goose Creek Island who was stationed at Pearl Harbor on that dreadful day.  If any of my readers do know of an Island resident who was, please let me know. 
      Ms. Gladys Ives Holton, native of Hobucken, said that she remembered the day Pearl Harbor was bombed. She was in the 7th grade at Hobucken School and it was a Sunday. She recalled that she and friend were roller skating down the road in Hobucken that Sunday afternoon.  Matter of fact, she remembered that she had one skate on and the friend had the other.  Her friend had commented that he had heard about some planes from Japan bombing "us".   The next day when the Island kids got to school, Principal Banks had turned on the radio in the gymnasium (classes where held in the gym because the school had burned earlier that year).  She said ,"We all listened to President Franklin Roosevelt's address to Congress declaring war on Japan." 
        My Uncle James Foreman, who still resides at Clark's Corner in Lowland, was a veteran of World War II.  Matter of fact, he may be the only World War II veteran who is still living on the Island. He did not go to the Pacific and was only 16 years old at the time of the Pearl Harbor bombing.  He served in the European Theatre, which is another story of our war history.  Oh, how I wish that he would share his story with me, but I know deep in my heart, he never will.  His war experience was horrific and the only stories I have heard have been passed along to me by my father and his brother Charles.  
     On January 23, 1943, the day before his18th birthday, James Foreman registered for military selective service. Little did James know that during the summer of '43, while he was working with his father in tobacco, that plans were being made for Operation Overlord, the allied invasion to liberate France.  A year later, after his registration, James enlisted in the U.S. Army at Fort Bragg, North Carolina on January 27, 1944. The allied invasion at Normandy began on June 6, 1944.  I do not know the details of what company he served with or when he traveled to England and then on to France, Belgium and other countries.  I do know that he experienced a side of war that Tom Hanks or Stephen Spielberg probably couldn't reproduce for the movies.
     Through my family history, the story is told that my great grandparents had received a telegram sometime in late 1944 or early 1945 that their youngest son James was listed as "missing in action".  It was many weeks later that they finally learned that he was safe.  It was those weeks that he will not talk about, or about any of his military service.  The story is that he had become "trapped" behind enemy lines and had become separated from his unit.  He and a fellow service member were on the run throughout the country, trying to stay one step ahead of the Germans.  Trying to stay alive. Unfortunately, the fellow service member perished before being reunited with American forces.  Uncle James got lucky.
     Before Uncle James had left for Fort Bragg, my great-grandfather Walter Foreman had promised a gold piece to him when he returned home safely from the war.  The story is that Uncle James returned home and it was late at night when he finally got to St. Clair's Creek in Beaufort County.  My Uncle Charles said he remembered he and his older brother Harold were asleep. Uncle James came rushing up the stairs and woke the boys up. He hugged them so tightly and was so happy to be home that he was crying.  Uncle Charles said as a young boy, he did not fully comprehend what was happening that night.  But when he was older, he truly appreciated and understood the impact of what had happened to Uncle James and how close he came to not returning home.
     To this day, Uncle James does not talk about his service to his country, nor do we pressure or ask him to talk about it.  The only time we have ever heard him mention anything about war was, "Honey, I hope you never have to see what I have seen in my lifetime."  And that is all that has ever been said. 
      Today, many of our Island's "greatest generation" are no longer with us.  The term greatest generation was pinned by the journalist Tom Brokaw.  Of course the term gives meaning to those who have served and have war experience, but I see our greatest generation as some thing more than just war service.  The men who served came back home and freely gave to their communities. Their hard working ethic helped to rebuild America and they never had a task that was 'too hard'.  They had already done the hardest work of their lives.  
     We have seen this in our Island community and we still see it today. Many years ago, when that group of Island residents banded together to form the Goose Creek Island Ruritan Club, they formed their own "Band of Brothers".  It was their way of giving back and to become good stewards to their community.  Those charter members, our greatest generation, had served in World War II.  Carol Ross was in the Battle of the Bulge, Mike Lewis had been stationed in the South Pacific. So had Glenwood Sadler.  It was these men who would most humbly gather at the local cemetery and prepare a grave for one of their own, a task that no one wanted. They have always given honorable service to our community and have always risen to a challenge. Their contributions to our community still live on today.  That is what makes them the "greatest generation" to me.    

A personal note - James Foreman to this day does not like Japanese cars and will tell you so! 

Wednesday, December 5, 2012

Let It Snow?



     
    How about this weather we have been having?  Yesterday I believe the temperature got to almost 72 degrees and its December!  I was talking with my sister Heather today and she said that Johnny Holton of Reelsboro was putting straw out around his shrubs and bushes.  She had asked him, “Why the rush?”  He said, “Well, it’s going to snow in a couple of weeks. Can’t you tell by this warm weather we are having?  Anytime we have a warm front in December, it is going to be followed by a strong cold front that will produce the white stuff.”   
   His comments to her prompted me to look into the old sayings and folklore in weather predicting.  For centuries, farmers and sailors have always relied on weather patterns to predict the weather.  Even antiquated, simple instruments like the barometer continue to predict weather along with the new technological instruments.  Many times I have seen my grandfather walk up to the barometer on the wall and see if the pressure was rising or falling.  Looking for a change in the weather he'd say.
   Weather lore is part of being a Goose Creek Islander.  We have all heard the saying 'red sky in the morning, sailor’s warning or red sky at night, sailor’s delight.'  But there have been other myths, old wives tales and proverbs to predict the weather. I have included a few that I have heard.  I am quite sure there are more and there is probably some debate to their accurateness or predictability. 

Aches and Pains
            How many of us have heard someone say, its going to rain, my elbows, knees, and joints are achy.

Lying Cows
            The old saying is that cows lying in the field indicate rain is on the way. 

Rainbow in the Morning
            It is raining to the west of us and we are sure to get rain.

Thunder in the Winter
            It will snow in a few weeks.

Ring Around the Moon
            Snow or rain will come soon.

Chimney Smoke
            If the smoke descends, fair weather is soon to end.

Squeaking Doors and Catchy Drawers
            When the rain comes, it will pour.

Fish Bite Best
            When the wind is out of the west.

What do you think….think we may have some ‘white stuff’ for Christmas? 

Thursday, November 29, 2012

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 19th and 20th 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).

Tuesday, November 27, 2012

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.

Wednesday, November 21, 2012

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.




 

Thursday, November 15, 2012

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.
   

Tuesday, November 13, 2012

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.
    

Thursday, November 8, 2012

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!