Sunset and evening star, and one clear call for me. Photo courtesy Shirley Mayo Ireland. |
This first week in August has been a
week of death. Three Island citizens have
passed away this week. One was held in a
bodily prison for so long; the results from a crippling and debilitating accident
so many years ago. An upstanding, community leader who was always
advocating for fishermen to be able to fish.
And a man who grew up on this Island who later became a police officer
in Emerald Isle.
I remember Wanda as a beautiful,
blond haired woman who worked at the bank when I was a child. Mr. Roy will always be remembered as a most
kind, generous, upstanding community servant who impacted so many lives on
this Island and Eric, who I did not personally know, but his roots were from here
and his time growing up on this Island certainly provided him a model of how to
be great in life.
Do you think that things come in
three's? Usually after the second death we wonder who is next?
I remember 1995. There were so many beloved Island residents
that left us in a matter of weeks. It
started in May when George Almond left us and then Capt. Forest Lupton crossed
the bar one last time. Mr. Willie Gray Midgette two weeks later in June and Ms.
Amy Hopkins the next day.
Then fall came upon us and to me
November and December of 1995 will never be forgotten. Mrs. Metta Swindell earned her wings in early
November. And then Bruce Spain left us so soon to join the other brethren of
the sea. Ms. Myrtle Sadler Schmidt came
home to Lowland for one final trip to be laid to rest in early December.
The tragic death of Mr. Gene Potter
on December 10, 1995 at the Hobucken draw bridge was heartbreaking. And within days we lost a beloved friend in
Joey Ballance who left us way to soon. Our
communities were reeling in grief those early days in December, a time when the
Christmas festivities should have enlightened the season. And again, the angels gained another, Mrs.
Edna Ireland, just a few days before Christmas.
There was so much heartbreak on our
Island that Christmas. Granddaddy Mike
Lewis, Uncle Roscoe Rice, Mr. Stakes Ireland, Uncle James Foreman, and others had
certainly had their fair share of cemetery duty that winter. Granddaddy even remarked, “I wonder who will
be next?”
And then of course, it was my
Granddaddy Mike, who departed this earth on December 30, 1995.
Through all of our grief, the most
remarkable thing I remember that winter was the amount of love and concern we
all have for one another on this Island.
I can still see Mrs. Doris Ballance visiting my Grandmother that day and
I could physically see the hurt in her eyes from the recent passing of her son,
but yet she was not selfish in her concern for others. She came to pay her
respects amidst all the grief she was experiencing.
Families were reaching out to each other. We were holding each other up. That’s what communities do. Even families who had been stricken with
grief earlier never failed to reach out to another who had lost. That’s the beauty in the folks of Goose Creek
Island.
Maybe it’s just coincidental that we
notice that death comes in three’s on the Island. If we look back through our history, I am
sure we will find other patterns when this has occurred. This mystery is part of our Island culture.
So many wonderful people who made
Goose Creek Island the way we see it today have passed. No matter what
generation, what year or what century, this unusual phenomenon will always be
part of Goose Creek Island. God bless
our community and may peace be with all who are grieving. Tina