The History is Here

 

     This past week, Mr. Odell Spain remarked on a question he had asked about the Robbie Carawan home in Lowland.  In Mr. Odell's words, "The history is here, just have to get a spark to get it going, its most interesting to me."  It's most interesting to me too!  There are tons of stories of our past out there.  If we do not ask the questions to start the dialogue of remembering, those stories could be lost forever.
     In October 2012, I was visiting the Island for Homecoming and had the opportunity to record some local, oral history stories that was told on Uncle Jonah Lewis' porch.  Juston and Roxana Lewis was home and Zool Ireland had come to down the Prong Rd. for a visit.  That afternoon, many stories were told of different things that had happened.  The characters, events and time line of the stories are real treasures.  I learned about people and things that had happened on the Island that I had never heard of before.
     Here is Juston and Zool's story about Mr. Warden Lewis' death in 1955.

    "Mr. Warden died in the church (Primitive Baptist Church)," Juston said.  "Right on the front seat, on a Saturday morning," remarked Zool Ireland.  "Momma, Daddy, everybody was up to the church but I was home", said Juston.   "All the sudden, Momma (Ollie Lewis) came running up the road. She was shouting, 'Honey, get me a pillow, get me a pillow!"  She was out of breath.  Juston said, "I thought something had happened to Daddy (Jonah Lewis)." 
    Juston explained, "Anyway, she came in the house and grabbed a pillow and I went back out there (to the church) with her."  "When I got there, Mr. Warden was on the floor. Mr. Warden had got up to make some kind of speech," said Juston.  Zool explained, "Granddaddy was a deacon of the church or something."  "Anyway, when he finished, he sat down and fell right over," continued Juston.
    Zool said, "It was in August 1955, between Hurricane Connie and Diane - he died between the second and third hurricanes that summer."

    This story was one I had never heard.  I never knew someone had died in the church.  It's stories like this that preserves the past in a unique way.  The voices, the emotion, the picturesque quality of a time and place that adds depth and meaning to the spoken word.
    In the next few weeks, I would like to "throw out there" a few stories I have heard over the years to get insight, clarification and reflection.  Stories like when the tug boat ran over Mr. Williams out in Goose Creek when he was crabbing, or when the Coca-Cola truck turned over in the road near the Hobucken Marina.  These stories are not important to some folks but they are important to our Island history.  Without the "spark" to get it going, they will be lost forever.