Se) eae —=m—_— 5 © Coastlore, P.O. Box 3, Harkers Island, NC 28531 Eductan Ctarteireto Cnoun ty Education came to Carteret County in much the same way as other steps to progress have come ... through the visions of men and women who recognized the need for a NEW way. The process was not easy for anyone living in the late 1800's, but for those who made their homes on the creeks and marshes of rural Carteret the challenge was especially hard. In Beaufort and Morehead, communication and transporta- tion advantages brought educational opportunities much closer to the children of the families living "in town." Though their obstacles were many, the larger population itself brought more resources and possibilities their way. Churches established such facilities as St. Paul’s Academy, recognized far and near for its uury. (Sketch from Island Born & Bred, by Shirley Irvine.) excellent academic program. This school drew children from across the county who traveled to the mainland and boarded with family members or town’s people to take advantage of the chance for an education. ""—_ PTl"Eh"T"S"TAH"J"HHCB"ePWdtcoTahlHhAaMuooeelhhiuhirnherer moyralnoLvclek rma tilkn’ ooio aeui’Mlt8tLs lynvwtrSsncoiiaSt s Ne esiciutac hio CVo ’i thos&’tn lurtslao sAonyieSIb neete ffo tJ sLo edeesflor TPleiaLR kIa ue wraeansuit rSoeoaniBadHr” tlrnkt DofdnvoociCnae” e.i ra mdasohynai nWiC tat tS d" frneesaooe"”rsctR’ r ntAr r e”yre ooitg”r Sv af elTre cip tsareth1eb hnas o9weotiso1RD.sC i on i8les coaki"sek. u n i o:.n?B gf afte tsya ?. c ” h . CoPPts.ad_.e.S.N e evaeeepoaeaeoprpipppppppppnppppr.s,..:.. .p .. l. s 2 e11ll19112lDiSe736680l0e34d6 05t ory LlTtctbddaihwfdyPtaairuoihenraioeoohonntofn ekaitvru etr,dmnfssicnieie irmsit tweihrgodcbnm c H.isuOsi, eusn esuul od"amtn uar alls,dctsewleoAlMtsrr io ieecnnooiefus ase cnnrthttent Hmtv.rx ,lewsoc eseg tamhsets ay ooh rr hrt,uheer nllafmo et b(l adnna,dl an ih r eOulodtie cHddbenseo clcwuc"titaa ao aaftabecronhitsywtttoimdgteeg,a himsearhhioipiir e c m"S iseetnornlogs t eatpsI ne nDgien,htwh sesrrgr oin tk eeeil io-f iforg tamatstpnlalwa r .ntho h,ctelmgsrcacn ood e sh seto coaory,d mslT iaooftroi esnge e ahlrcti hreuda Mriniddathhnosyeinrleasrhr dfaee yatnltsfmere err m i nio . s cnCas st""o naand woii shh kbtnnM c tanltweTaoe ielaty clostef oligxntwe,hireh oarvogilfhi icgxceelimretilumnebeHt epm nbslmhp tnetseigpoose oelu" lihtro mresedirrgaasnien goiodlnuue ecntg srsfn,icwcv rhcdd" ,s ,h Itieloeesis c mh sietorsus s,auaol owmlhoeddsis lcnamnte"u aea nuhlhnd oma rtd etn ad o m hsenusoha,ryiaftfepcr uodefn s nrd h ai sto rcvitapeeePtTm.haeimsitdadtrh reoei ha tdciemcuei " rrellletvmduceteoe isetyht eatixau nft.ssyos-estncotry Mi) to r mc iat win aotoaaurootnapooai a’iniHc enuifnngnserin lceesgtt"o .genurddbosorop rhn c pm mou oee ,lsetespriaoang uuoatrnoh lftas dcs-fufaaaA i -e et h agotarbsh au-tehlein aie. ens-r d , Page 2 The Mailboat Dear "Mailboat', Thank you so much for sending me The Mailboat. I have read every word and loved every page. What was it Eddie Hill wrote, "You can take the boy out of Down East, but you can never take the "Down East" out of the Boy." How true this is! In 1957 when I told my Dad (Charles Salter, Bettie) that I was moving to California, he said. "Go ahead, but part of your heart will remain here." How right he was! Thanks again. Clarence Salter cots Garden Grove, California The "Ocracoke," mailboat to Ocracoke, was purchased by Dr. William Farmer in 1953. On last ac- count the "Ocracoke" was owned by a retired Army Seargent and headed for Panama. Anyone having any further information, please contact The Mailboat. Photo courtesy of Louisa Farmer McLeod-Reaves, daughter of Dr. William Farmer. Dear Mailboat, watching this scene, even though I am a person not fond of I am writing to thank you for sending me The Mailboat. seafood. The memories began to flood back into my mind and I laid On one of my trips I was fortunate to see the train creep back in my recliner to daydream of the good times I had spent slowly through the center of town. The engineer was familiar in the coastal area. with many of the residents as greetings were exchanged back I was among some of the first U. S. Marines to be stationed and forth. As an "outsider" I did have a slight problem with the at the Cherry Point Air Station. It was called Cunningham Field then. Construction was going on everywhere and the main gate brogue of the local citizens, but one soon learned what "right much" and other terms meant. consisted of a sentry box with a saw-horse road block. A In 1952 I married and visited some old friends in Havelock locomotive named "Goldsboro" was parked on a railroad spur on our honeymoon. Havelock at that time had progressed from to supply steam heat for the completed buildings. To go on liber- a "spot on the road" to a “small intersection" that had ex- ty to New Bem one would catch an old school bus -- "Pop’s Bus" — that did not have regular seats, but did have boards perienced growing pains. Several trips were made to Atlantic mounted along the inside walls to sit upon. A round-trip cost Beach where we played in the surf on an almost deserted beach, cooked hot dogs over a driftwood fire, and sat well into the twenty-five cents, and one hoped that it never broke down. I night listening to the sounds of the sea. My wife was fascinated remember one trip back the wiring to the headlights caught on by the fact that she could walk a short distance and pick up a fire causing a complete blackout. We sat there all night -- swat- ting mosquitoes — as we waited for dawn to continue our trip. double handa-full of sea shells, sand dollars, and more. It was a New Bern was a most friendly town to the Servicemen and wild, lonely place, where one felt next to God and nature out I believe that I walked along every street in town at that time. there under the billowing sky and breeze. The USO and the large old church in the center of town saw During the past few years I have returned to Atlantic Beach that we were well taken care of. People often invited me into several times to walk on the sand and feel the sun and wind on their homes for meals, card games, and conversation. They my face once again. The peace, calm, and isolation has disap- were as curious as to where we came from and our ways as we peared and in its place are telephone poles sunk in the sand were of theirs. And we did encounter new things. I had never with all manner of buildings resting upon them. The beaches seen a Dr. Pepper or a Moon Pie. The first time I was ever are now empty of the things I remember -- no driftwood or sea served a hamburger was at the small restaurant near the River shells, but I did see pieces of old rope, plastic bottles, and an Bridge and it had mustard on it — and was delicious. To an old tire sunk in the sand. It is still a restful retreat though, when eighteen year old who was raised in the northern mountains, to you close your mind to all but the sea, sun, and wind as you have been transferred to an alien environment such as this was look out over the water. Then you turn around to look for the a most rewarding experience. sand dunes you once had to walk over to get to your car —- and I "thumbed" a ride to Morehead City twice during my first you are back in today’s world. tour of duty at Cherry Point. It was much more reserved than I shall return though to look at the sea, walk in the surf, New Bern so I would walk around the town and watch the fish- and to feel the sun and wind. ForI am still a stranger in another ing boats come into the piers and unload baskets of shrimp and person’s home place and as a guest I shall leave it as I found it. fish. The porpoise and sea gulls would follow the fishing boats Time may change the face of things, but the good memories right into the inlets as the fishermen culled their catch. I was al- Shall always remain ... ways fascinated by this and the people who processed the fish in Edward Donnelly the long dark sheds at the pier’s end. I have stood for hours Middleton, Tennessee Winter 1991 Page 3 The Malboefa Adatnt ic Beach Games Newman Willes | ("Cap'n Yim") Did you ever catch the mailboat to Atlantic Beach? Well I had broken loose from a tug that night and torn away a large did! Some of you probably think that I’m pulling your leg; section of the beach bridge. )I was so sad at the prospect of not others may think that I actually meant to say "Atlantic" instead being able to get to school that day or maybe even the next day of "Atlantic Beach" (because Atlantic Beach has always had a ... cause you just know I was dying to get there!?) But the bridge) and the rest of you know that I’ve completely lost what MAIL MUST GO THROUGH! little sense I ever had. Sorry folks, but you’re all wrong. It’s The details of the disaster are as follows. In the early morn- true! For one glorious week in the fall of 1948 we had our own ing hours of September 22, a tug, with a barge in town, ap- "MAILBOAT" to Atlantic Beach. proached the Atlantic Beach Bridge from the west. As it made I should know, since from 1936 to 1955 the post office on the turn toward the southeast near 30th Street in Morehead, Atlantic Beach was a fourth class office and was my family’s the helmsman turned just a little too far south. As the two ves- _ responsibility. Although my father was the postmaster from sels approached the bridge, he realized that the approach was 1936-1951 and my mother from 1952-1972, the operation of the too far south and attempted to correct the course by turning office, as long as it was the little rural fourth class office, was the tug hard to port. This maneuver put too much strain on the the job of the whole family. When the post office first opened in bridle line to the barge and it snapped causing the tug to swing 1936, my Daddy’s sister, Reba Baker, actually ran the day-to- sideways to the bridge. The barge continued on its south’ard day operation of the office, since my father had too many other course, smashing into the bridge and sending about 125 feet on duties in his job with the main beach management to allow him the roadspan on the south side of the channel tumbling into to stay in the post office full-time. Later on, my Daddy’s cousin Bogue Sound. Of course, this little incident took out the lights, and my Mother’s sister also were clerks in this office. In 1948, since the power lines to the Beach were strung on poles parallel my mother had the job of clerk. One of the main family respon- to the bridge about 50 feet on the west side, and they too were sibilities was getting the mail to and from Morehead City. In knocked out. Fortunately no one was hurt in this accident, and the summer months, when the Beach was in full swing, the mail the drawbridge remained intact. was usually hauled by whoever carried the workers on the main The bridge tender notified his superiors as soon as he beach back and forth from Morehead. But, from the first day of could, and by daybreak the State (the State Highway and Public ‘May until Memorial Day and from Labor Day until the last day Works Commission now known as the Department of Transpor- of September, the job became Daddy’s. (In those days the tation) was on the scene with amazing speed for that time and Beach post office was seasonal and was open only from May 1 era. Realizing that a major traffic artery had been severed and through September 30.) that the "mail must go through," they immediately hired a boat to ferry mail, passengers, and other goods across the damaged span, and we got our first and only MAILBOAT. The boat In the early morning hours of September came over from Morehead City. She was owned by Capt. Tony Seamon of the Sanitary Fish Market and Restaurant and skip- 22, a tug, with a barge in town, approached pered by Capt. Theodore Lewis. Her name was the "Sylvia." the Atlantic Beach Bridge from the west. As it As soon as he was able to get across, Daddy crossed over made the turn toward the southeast near 30th to Morehead to get the mail. It had been delayed long enough. I talked my parents out of going to school the first day, but on Street in Morehead, the helmsman turned just Thursday I was not so successful. So, off to the bridge we went. a little too far south. Daddy drove out onto the bridge as far as he could go and parked. We got out and walked over to the edge of the bridge. I remember that part of the bridge railing had been removed and a ladder had been nailed onto the bridge and extended to a So, in that fateful fall of 1948, Daddy had the job of getting platform below. (I can’t remember if the platform was a float- the incoming mail from Morehead to the Beach and the outgo- ing scow or was just fastened onto the bridge itself.) As I stared ing mail from the Beach to Morehead, not once but twice each into the chasm below (it must have been at least 20 feet down to day. He would usually leave for Morehead to pick up the first the water), I got "giddy-headed" from the view. I quickly told mail around 7:45 in the morning. I would usually ride over to Daddy that there was no way I could climb down that ladder school in Morehead with him, since I was too lazy to get up in and survive. So, he let me stay on the beach side, and I had time enough to catch the bus. I can remember getting up on the another day free of school. This ploy lasted until the weekend, morning of Wednesday, September 22, 1948, and the lights but then they built a little stairway with railings on both the were off. Pretty soon Daddy came in and told us that a barge Page 4 The Mailboat Banks and the Mainland sides of the bridge, and I no longer had an excuse for not going to school on Monday. So, I went. My father now had an arduous schedule ahead of him. He had to cross over to the Mainland at 7:45 am and walk the full length of the bridge to 28th Street because they wouldn’t let you drive out on the bridge on the Morehead side. Here he was met by my Uncle John Baker (husband of his sister, Reba, who was the first post office clerk). Ir emember that my Uncle John drove a Pontiac painted a color which was a cross between "fire truck red" and maroon. Uncle John then carried Daddy to pick up the mail and me to school (when I finally did go back). Then he carried Daddy back to the bridge where he had to walk back to the draw span, climb down to water level, board the "Sylvia," cross over to the south "terminal," climb back up onto the bridge and drive to the Beach post office with the mail. No sooner had he done this and turned around twice, than it was time for him to go back with the first outgoing mail of the day from the Beach and to pick up the second incoming mail from Morehead. Then, by the time he had made that trip and grabbed a mow’ful of dinner (now called lunch), it was time to take the last outgoing mail of the day back to Morehead. My The "Syivia H,” still watching and waiting on Bogue Sound at Peltier Creek. daddy was not in bad shape physically, but neither was he a Photo courtesy of Bob Simpson. mountain climber, and by the end of the first day he was com- pletely "give-out." And then, he had Thursday, Friday and Satur- ever, was a different story. It was supposed to have been day to look forward to. Thank the Lord for Sunday when he repaired in 3 or 4 days, but it set in raining and delayed the could at least catch his breath, since the one mail in and out on reopening. By the end of the first week of this "mailboat ex- Sunday stopped after Labor Day. My Monday he was kind of perience," we felt just like a crowd of "Downeasters," completely getting a little bit used to his new invigorating lifestyle, and with isolated from the rest of the world even though the trip of the the advent of the stairways, he was able to make it until the mailboat was only a little over a hundred yards. However, un- repairs on the bridge were completed. like the true "Downeaster’s" who were often lucky to get two mails a week, we still got two mails a day! Then, as suddenly as it began, our moment of glory was By the end of the first week of this "mail- over. The bridge reopened at noon on Wednesday, September boat experience," we felt just like a crowd of 29, 1948, and the days of our mailboat were gone, perhaps "Downeasters," completely isolated from the forever. The days of routine mail transportation, exclusively by motor vehicle over completely bridged sounds and estuaries, rest of the world even though the trip of the resumed. Although our moment in history was over, at least mailboat was only a little over a hundred Daddy would have the rest of the winter to recover from his or- deal. yards. However, unlike the true "Downeaster’s" The "Sylvia" returned to the Morehead City waterfront. She who were often lucky to get two mails a week, was later renamed "Sylvia II," since another "Sylvia" had shown we still got two mails a day! up and having two "Sylvia’s" at one time was a little confusing. | Capt. Tony then sold her to Capt. Theodore, who later had her sink at the waterfront in a storm. Capt. Theodore then sold her, still sunk, to the first two gullible souls to come along. This just "Uncle George" Smith was hauling the mail and school happened to be Capt. Bob Simpson and his wife Mary, who not youngern’s (grade 6 and above) between Morehead and Salter only raised the "Sylvia II, but restored her to first class condi- Path at that time in that old black Maria he had, and when the tion. The trials and tribulations of the "Sylvia II" since her mail- bridge got knocked out, he also used the "Sylvia" as the mailboat boat days are well documented in her own chronicle, When the for that community. Of course, this was not Salter Path’s first Water Smokes, written by Capt. Bob, who is still her owner and mailboat, since Uncle George had used his own boat to carry skipper. It is available from the Coastlore Trader or at local the mail to Salter Path in the years before the bridge came to bookstores. Today the "Sylvia II" lies in repose at her moorings Bogue Banks. on Peltier Creek west of Morehead City, awaiting her next -- Believe it or not, they got the lights fixed in short order, I call to glory! think on the second day after the accident. The bridge, how- Winter 1991 Page 5 "Pertloas Journey Ends Safely in IWS" Reprinted from (Car(Cotuntey Nrewse-Titme s, December 5, 1974 (Note: Cold weather on the coast brings to mind the big freeze of what little food they had left, a fry pan, hatchet, small can of oil, the winter of 1917-18. It set in a few days after Christmas and con- boat hook to test the thickness of the ice, and about 10 yards of tinued for almost a week in January. The late Allen Taylor of Sea rope, one end of which was held by my brother, J.E., the lead- Level, wrote the following account as told to him by his brother. It ing man. was brought to The Mailboat by Sammy Taylor, nephew of Allen The walk was planned in a V-formation as the wild geese Taylor) fly, the object of the rope held by the leading man was should he find thin ice or an air hole, the two hind men could pull him back to safety. The V-formation was to distribute the weight of ... They walked back home a distance of the men also. To prevent slipping, nails were driven through the heels of about 20 miles, 15 miles of the route being the men’s shoes from the inside protruding outward about one- over water they had sailed a few days previous. fourth inch. Everything was done that could be thought of for the safety of the journey. The men offered prayers to Him who arose and rebuked My brother, J. E. Taylor, owner of the sharpie "Clem" built the wind and said unto the sea, "Peace, be still. And the wind in Smyrna, NC, in the winter 1891, and his two companions, ceased, and there was a great calm." -St. Mark 4:39 Louis Elliott and Edward Salter, all of Sea Level, were dredg- ing oysters at a place known as the Marshes in the lower mouth of Neuse River where it empties into Pamlico Sound. To prevent slipping, nails were driven They had not quite finished their load of oysters to take to through the heels of the men’s shoes from the the New Bern market when the great freeze set in on Saturday, inside protruding outward about one-fourth December 29, 1917 and lasted until January 6, 1918. They were anchored at Henry Hill’s Harbor close by. It inch. Everything was done that could be snowed all during Saturday night with the thermometer falling thought of for the safety of the journey. fast and by Monday registered 12 degrees above and before nightfall the boat was held firm in an icy grasp. The men soon began to realize the seriousness of their situation as they sat in their little cabin which would only ac- The three men stepped on the ice that had held their boat commodate four persons in a sitting position. The only way of in its icy grasp and had kept them prisoners for five long heating was a two-burner oil stove on which they did their cook- anxious days and nights and headed in the direction of home, ing, and melting ice from the water barrel to drink. This was Friday, January 4, 1918, 6 o’clock am. The walking The men watched, hoped and waited through the week. time was six-and-one-half hours. They followed the all-water The freeze became worse instead of better, ice forming around route, crossing both New Stump Bay and Long Bay, at or near the boat four or five inches thick. Now food and oil were get- their mouth, in some places over 12 to 15 feet deep. Edward ting low. They were already on a meager diet, the temperature Salter is the only one now living (1974) and still lives here at Sea playing around 10, 12, and 13 degrees above, with no possible Level. In concluding this item, I would like to add my brother told relief in sight. They had to face a very grave decision, stay with the boat me that Pamlico Sound and Neuse River as far as the eye could and freeze or starve, or take a chance and try to walk home on see was one unbroken sheet of ice. After the freeze broke up the ice. The uninhabited land route with its dense growth of and the ice had all disappeared, it was found that great num- marshes and undergrowth all covered with frozen snow and ice bers of porpoises died from suffocation as the porpoise, like seemed almost impossible but was under consideration. The the whale (fish in form) and air-breathing, they could not water route had its dangers too -- air holes. This route would penetrate the ice to get air, died and drifted up along the take them over water that was 12 to 15 feet deep, which they all shores of the rivers and sounds. knew. In preparing for this hazardous journey, a note was left in the cabin of the boat, outlining the two routes under considera- tion. This information would aid searching parties to find their bodies in case they never reached home. They took with them Page 6 The Mailboat What happteo tnhee thdis ? Joel Hancock December 23, 1990 the feminine pronoun. The family’s fishing boat was, in a very Leaving the Island this morning to go to Morehead, I real sense, a part of the family. noticed that the Refuge Harbor was "packed full" of boats. The boats were generally moored between one and two Every slip was taken, the nets secured, while the fishermen who hundred feet offshore. For that reason they required something owned and worked them retired for the Christmas holiday. that many fishermen now can do without; a skiff. Twelve to fif- The sight was somewhat unsettling for a couple of reasons. teen "foot" skiffs were pulled up almost everywhere along the First, because very few croakers have been caught so far this south shore of the Island. There probably were more skiffs than winter. From what I have heard, the fishermen have had only there were real fishing boats. Not everyone could afford a big one good catch since the end of November when the season sup- boat, but almost anyone could have his very own skiff. posedly began. Usually the month from Thanksgiving and Fishermen used skiffs to get from the shore to his boat. It Christmas is the best four weeks of the year for gill netters. generally was light enough to enable one man to pull it up on Several years ago, when I was fishing with my brother dry land all by himself, especially if he used rollers. Others left Michael, we caught a "boat load" of croakers almost every day their skiffs tied or anchored only a few feet beyond the tidal line for two weeks running. It was so rolled-up pants were all pretty much a standing joke that that were needed to wade to every time someone showed a the skiff, even at high tide. good sigh of croakers he would Skiffs also served as call home on the C.B. radio and readily available "pack hor- tell his wife to "go ahead and ses" that could be pulled be- send that order off to Sears hind bigger boats to carry Roebuck," meaning that he now nets, drags, or rakes used by would have money to pay for the the commercial fishermen as C.O.D. packages once they ar- well as the fish, clams, rived. This year, for whatever oysters, or scallops that they may be the reason, very few might catch. It could even be Christmas packages will be paid Skiff sketch by David Lawrence used to ferry a banks pony for by money made selling back and forth between croakers. Shackleford Banks and the Island if a young boy’s pleading Secondly, and even more troubling to me, was the thought yielded the desired results. that all the boats gathered in the Refuge Harbor, and in the Harkers Island skiffs were all pretty much the same. Some several other small bays on the back (north) side of Harkers Is- were just a little bigger or smaller than others. The had no flare land, meant that few, if any, boats remained moored at the land- or deadrise, being the truest of "flat-bottomed" boats. Each one ing, the way they all were when I was a boy. had at least one oar, generally about eight feet in length; just In those days, every fisherman had his boat anchored or enough to push off the bottom anywhere on this side of the tied along the shore directly in front of his home, or at least the channel. They were outfitted with an iron anchor and fifty feet path that led there. All along the south side of the Island, from of sisal rope that ran through a small hole cut into the small Shell Point to Red Hill, the fishing boats lined up like some front deck. primitive armada. The skiffs almost always were made of juniper, the lightest Prevailing southwesters in the warmer months kept their native wood available, to make them all the easier to pull ashore sterns facing the shore, each one emblazoned with a special or back into the sound. For convenience in building, they name, peculiar to the man and the family for which the boat was generally were "cross-planked," a construction method much the main source of income. Dallas Rose’s boat was called the simpler than the length-wise planking used in bigger boats. "Wasted Wood," for that was what he categorized it as being. They generally had at least one thwart seat, which everyone Others had names like "We Four," "The Boys," "Seven called simply a "thaught." This "thaught" also strengthened the Brothers," "Barbara," and at my daddy’s landing, the "Ralph." sides of the boat by serving as a cross beam. The "Ralph" was named for my oldest brother who had been my There was at least one other feature common to every Is- father’s first (and probably his favorite) crew member. Most of land skiff; a bailer. Long ago they were made of wood with a the boats were spoken of as if they were a person, always using Continued on Page 24 Winter 1991 Page 7 ‘Whe Sth Street Cougress (From "7 Crab I Wy Poeke”) “fom Oriudsou The "8th Street (Morehead) Congress" was a loose collec- the right one. I never understood just what it was he was look- tion of retired men and codgers that on every day that weather ing for; they all looked like just plain sticks to me. I also never permitted occupied benches along 8th Street beside the knew why all of the congress whittlers, except for rare oc- Marine Hardware or across the street beside Rose’s. The daily casions, whittled cedar. It may have been because it was a free sun traverses perpendicular to the course of 8th Street. There- and commonly available wood that smells fantastic. fore, the 8th Street Congress convened on the east side in the There was always around the bench, the smell of Bay Rum morning and west in the afternoon in order to stay in the (an aftershave lotion, not a drink), and rich aromatic cedar. shade. Congress never convened too early in the morning, ad- Talk would go on at a leisurely pace for hours as those who journed for a lengthy lunch, (while the sun was straight over- whittled made long carefully guided strokes through their head) and adjourned again in early afternoon. cedar sticks with pocket knives of unquestionable sharpness. My grandfather was a tenured member of this informal Periodically one of the men might pull a whetstone from his congress who’s only purpose was to provide companionship, pocket, spit on it and proceed to touch up the edge of a knife whittle mountains of cedar shavings, solve the problems of the he felt might need a little correction. world and spit. I don’t know how many members there actual- The benches of the 8th Street Congress were there from ly were, as many of them changed from day to day. There were the beginning of my recollection but disappeared sometime from six to ten in attendance on any day, and it only took only after my grandfather’s death. This gathering was an important two for a quorum to discuss the issues of the day. part of the lives of these men whose fading years would not be spent in a nursing home. It gave a purpose to their days, fellow- ship with others of like mind and interest and kept them men- My grandfather was very skilled with his tally active. So important was this gathering that although my grandfather was sick, he drove from Edenton, North Carolina hands and practiced in the use of a pock- (where my father’s work had taken all of us for two years) etknife. While he was capable of carving al- back to Morehead and there he died of a stroke, while on his most anything he wanted, I never saw him way to attend the day’s session of congress. whittle anything in session but unbroken ever- so-thin curls of cedar the length of the piece There was always around the bench, the in hand. He always carried a supply of smell of Bay Rum (an aftershave lotion, not various sizes of whittling sticks in his little a drink), and rich aromatic cedar. Talk Crosley car. would go on at a leisurely pace for hours as those who whittled made long carefully guided strokes through their cedar sticks with It was a great honor for me to be allowed to accompany pocket knives of unquestionable sharpness. my grandfather and sit with him on the bench. I, of course, was not allowed to whittle and my only attempt at spitting failed to launch beyond my chin. Fortunately, for my ambitions to one day join this august body as a full member, the incident went Images of the benches, the faces, various pleasant smells unnoticed by the congress. and rolls of cedar shavings blowing down the street flood my My grandfather was very skilled with his hands and prac- memory whenever I cross 8th Street. All the men are dead ticed in the use of a pocketknife. While he was capable of carv- now, and the benches are long gone, but I think their ghost ing almost anything he wanted, I never saw him whittle may still come and sit in the spring shade to whittle and talk. I anything in session but unbroken ever-so-thin curls of cedar haven’t seen them, but I have smelled the Bay Rum and the the length of the piece in hand. He always carried a supply of cedar. various sizes of whittling sticks in his little Crosley car. After he would park his Crosley, he would reach in the back seat, Brought to The Mailboat by Mrs. A. L. Brinson retrieve an assortment of cedar whittling sticks, turn them over in his hands with serious deliberation over the seemingly in- visible whittling attributes of individual sticks and finally select Page 8 The Mailboat “i “Whe Schoaot Lluksen s Excerpts from research by Eloise Slain ... There was no schoolhouse at Turnagin Bay, although Daisy Davis who lives at Marshallberg tells an interesting families would hire a teacher to come live with them and teach story about her teaching experience at Lukens from 1941-43. their children. Littleton Mason built the first schoolhouse at Her initiation to her new teaching assignment there began with Brown’s Creek in 1848. In 1886 Joseph C. Mason built a school- a trip across South River in an open boat in a downpour of rain. house at Brown’s Creek which served all the children from Tur- All her teaching supplies for the year were on the boat with her. nagin Bay, Brown’s Creek, and South River. Daisy cried all the way across the river thinking that she was In 1902 the Shop Hills Schoolhouse was built halfway be- being marooned to some dreadful, God-forsaken place. tween Brown’s Creek and Lukens. One problem with this loca- Immediately she was "adopted" by the Henry Banks family tion was that sheep stayed under the schoolhouse and fleas with whom she boarded for her two-year stay. Once she got ac- were insufferable. Myrtle bushes were spread under the school- climated, she found iat conditions there to be ideal She house in an attempt to had great freedom drive the fleas away. to structure her By 1920 everyone had classroom and plan left Brown’s Creek, her learning ac- and the Shop Hill’s tivities; she felt very Schoolhouse was little pressure from moved to Lukens near | her superiors who the Joe Mason place. were one river and In 1921 or 1922 a 18 miles away in school was built be- Beaufort. When her hind the Joe Mason stay at Lukens was place at the Grove over, Daisy found it Field. very difficult to A partial listing leave the people and of those who taught at fea the place she had the Shop Hills School- | grown to love dearly. house and their — : ws a In 1943-44 there Ce ONN OUSE race Notun, EugeteP ema. Seca pe:B riley Nisa) Sara iaisN eca UAL Steta ae : : : man. : Bran’ ' an , Janice Norman, : include Fannie Paul, Mary Catherine Hardy, Dorris Lee Norman, Sadie fay Pa Third Row: Dorothy Pittman, Vanda children, a ade s 18, Bryan Paul, Daniel Norman, Kathleen Hardy, and Elsie Norman. Photo courtesy of Eloise Blair. from approximately Caffrey, Molly Tingle, 20 families living at Lettie Mason, Clara Oglesby, a Mr. Phillips, Bessie Wallace Lukens then (see picture). The teacher that year was Miss Carraway, Pearl Smith, Lena Lewis, Daisy Davis, Helen Lewis, Grace Wilson, a friend of Miss Georgina Yeatman who then Edna Willis, Sudie Guthrie, Sadie Thomas, Lucy Twine, Cal- owned the Open Grounds Farm. laway Heritt, Grace Wilson, Virginia Wade, Inez Davis, Hazel In 1944-45 school was conducted for only six months. The Noe, and Velma Johnson. last teacher was Velma Johnson. Whether the school was closed Great-grandmother Sarah Edwards learned to read and because no teacher could be found to continue it or whether no write from the teachers who boarded at her home. Perhaps effort was made by the county to secure a teacher because of so teachers instructed her in exchange for the good venison stews few pupils is a matter of conjecture. Some say that the wartime and "freckled biscuits" she provided for them. Others who shortage of teachers created a problem. Regardless of why it boarded teachers were Keigh and Brittie Pittman, Joe and happened, the closing of the school sounded the death knell of Geneva Mason, Nan Jane Pittman, Henry and Cora Banks, the community. Those residents with children were forced to Horace and Pherbe Lewis, and Willie and Mary Pittman. move either to Oriental or to the South River-Merrimon area of In the year 1912 school was in session for only three weeks the west side of South River. The Lukens Schoolhouse was because of a smallpox epidemic. In 1913 the school term was moved across South River where it was used for several years lengthened from three to six months. All grades were taught in until pupils from South River and Merrimon were bused to the one-room school, and there was never any high school in- Beaufort. struction offered. (Eloise Blair's family lived at Lukens many years). Winter 1991 Page 9 Memorieosf a Teacaht Leubren s Grace Wilrou The first visit to the schoolhouse was gratifying for I found that I had a newly painted room, about 20’ X 14’, windows on FZd 7s a the front and one side, childrens’ desks, a teacher’s desk and chair, a long bench, a stove with its necessary equipment and a good supply of coal. Basal textbooks were to be sent from the of- LIVITSL fice of the County Superintendent twenty-seven miles away and if it would be necessary for me to plan for supplementary books, 2 art materials and library books! A challenge to say the least. School opened with eighteen children and my heart lightened by their enthusiasm. We organized with Sadie Ray as president, Dorris Lee as vice-president and Mary as secretary, while the rest of the children were happy to be on committees to assist with the general running of the classroom. How I wished that some of my friends could have shared with me the great satisfaction of that first day for we had not only organized but we had made plans for tie-dyed curtains to be made out of cheesecloth, had changed to desks so that all children would have adequate light at their desks, provided for proper place- hr aTioe= ye StSte aD ; eer ment of desks for the left-handed children, improvised a cloak- The Student Body of the School at Lukens poses in front of their school wit their room and put new material on a screen in order to hide the teacher, Miss Grace Wilson (back row center) in 1943-1944. Photo courtesy of Eloise Blair. stove when it was not in use. This was followed by the serious business of taking stand- way to the schoolhouse door by brandishing stout poles in order ard tests in order to ascertain grade placement, after which the to have the cattle return to the woods where they were accus- children understood better where they needed to improve. tomed to roam. Interest was high, a spirit of cooperation per- Days were busy ones for there were eighteen children to be meated the atmosphere and keen attention was expressed as I planned for and someone in each of the eight grades. Within a talked with the folks concerning my general ideas and plans for short time, a piano, a roll top desk, filing cabinet and typewriter the year. Then as darkness began to fall, kerosene lamps were were taken down the river to the school house by kind friends lighted and one of the mothers played the newly acquired piano and kinfolk and these were followed by a generous gift of well for a regular community sing. During that evening I felt a kind chosen library books being made to the school. A schoolhouse of unity of purpose and spiritual understanding spring up be- is not complete without an American flag, so that, too, was tween the community and myself; from that moment on there given to us and Dorris Lee made the standard for it from a sap- never could be greater cooperation than I experienced while I ling and piece of log. was in that little village of Lukens, NC. Life went on in a very busy and interesting way, for the pro- The school committeemen, Mr. Henry Banks, was of ines- gram had to provide for all the subjects plus art, music and timable help and a kind of hub of the wheel in the community. recreation; however, the eagerness of the children to improve in He had the store, the post office and was always ready to give every way made the planning and teaching a pleasure. paternal advice. He was a source of authentic information con- We needed chairs for group work, so Dorris Lee made very cerning the history of the community. He also kept the folks in- sturdy ones out of orange cratesand. The girls, under the direc- formed of current events because his radio was always in good tion of Sadie Ray and Evilee, cut and sewed attractive back order in spite of the fact, that lacking electricity, batteries were covers and cushions which were made comfortable by filling necessary. them with the Spanish moss from the tree close by. You never With all of these advantageous conditions, life in Lukens saw greater satisfaction or delight expressed, than when this gave promise of having a very different flavor from other years new furniture was in use -- the work of their own hands for of teaching and that very difference was what I desired. We brothers, sisters, cousins and friends! tried conscientiously to improve the three R’s, but life held As soon as we felt that we were ready to share our plans much more than those skills for all of us. (Grace F. Wilson, June and activities with the parents and friends, we had an evening 30, 1952) meeting when, as I well remember, it was necessary to make our Page 10 The Mailboat "he School Boat” "Marlowe's Private Schools” Marylou Mason Langdon Wns. Thelma Simpson Harlowe had two private schools which were used locally as well as by We have been made aware of the importance the surrounding communities between 1865-1926. Both buildings are still of the Mailboat as a means of transporting mail, standing today. passengers, and freight from one end of Carteret Harlowe Creek Academy was built by Rufus Bell in 1865-66 "Principal- County to the other; but did you know that ly for the enlightenment of his own family of four boys and seven girls" children were transported to and from school in (News-Times, Dec. 25, 1980), but many other children came from sur- this same manner? rounding areas. Some came for the day and others boarded locally. "The Many of you have read the late Mildred community enjoyed untold educational advantages as result of the school. Lawrence’s account of the "School Boat" that car- Harlowe was acclaimed from far and near as a cultural center." (News- ried students across Adam’s Creek when she was Times, Dec. 25, 1980). growing up; but the "School Boat" I am speaking The Academy’s first principal, W. T. R. Bell, a well-educated Virginia, of carried children from Lennoxville to Beaufort was a Captain in the War between the States who later established schools when I was a child. in King’s Mountain and South Carolina. Other teachers were Miss E. Janie When our family moved from Smyrna to Len- Bell, Matilda Hardesty, and E. D. Hardesty. The last date found for a noxville in 1915, no school existed in the com- teacher at the Academy was 1897. Mrs. D. G. Bell ("Miss Madie" of munity. My father, the late Hardy Pake, saw this Morehead), granddaughter of Rufus and Abigail (sister of famous Emeline need, so he sent us to school in Beaufort by boat, Pigott) attended both schools in Harlowe. Records (including the 1868 with his younger brother, Sherlie as captain and Commencement Program) were kept by Mrs. J. H. Davis ("Miss Mary") engineer. Sherlie attended St. Paul’s School while whose husband was a grandson of Rufus. Fortunately, The Academy Build- my brother, Charlie and I attended Beaufort ing has been maintained and is presently the home of Mrs. Gordon Becton. Graded School. It stood where the parking lot for Harlowe School on Hwy 101 was built by Dr. Charles North Mason the Carteret County Courthouse facility is now lo- (1854-1936) or his father, James H. Mason (1821-1907). (Mildred Salter cated. Lawrence states in "The Heritage of Carteret County, NC," Vol. I, 1982, p. In 1916, my cousin Naomi Goodwin from 13, that the building was built by James.) No date of construction is known, Cedar Island stayed with us and attended school though the builder is known to have been William (Billy) Becton whose in Beaufort by boat as did some of the children descendants still live in Harlowe. . from "across the Point." This is what we always Dr. Charles North Mason, savant and local physician, graduated from called the children who lived on the back side of Trinity College (later Duke University) as valedictorian, and was keenly in- Lennoxville. terested in education. He was appointed Carteret County Superintendent By the following school term (1917), Sherlie of Schools in 1886. His wife, Bettie Olivia Fearrington and daughter, had joined his older brothers, Will and Stanley, Rosalind, were teachers at this school. His five children and some of his who had joined the Navy and were stationed in grandchildren attended. Norfolk, Virginia. For this term, the Carteret Mrs. Clara Davis (Fodrie) Thompson of Craven Street in Beaufort, County School Board had hired a teacher to remembers teaching at the Harlowe School in 1925-26. Her mother teach the children of Lennoxville. At that time a Gertrude Hill Howard, also taught there. "Miss D." remembers. "I made building was needed to use as a school. $65.00 a month and thought it was a fortune. I drove my Model "T" Ford My father, with the help of Mr. C. P. Dey from Blades (North Harlowe) to the school and picked up students along (dec.) acquired a former Methodist Church build- the way. The school was one large room with a pot-bellied stove in the mid- ing for that purpose. This building had been built dle and a rostrum or stage in the rear. (Plays given by the school were a before the turn of the century by the Methodist local attraction.) There were approximately 25 students in Grades 1 - 7 Church of Beaufort as a place of worship for the who attended approximately nine months." people of Lennoxville. Mr. and Mrs. C. P. Dey, Dorothy Baxter LeHew, granddaughter of C. N. Mason, attended first lived in the community and owned the Menhaden and second grades (1917-18) described the school this way. "There was a plant which my father had been hired to operate. large room, a stage, and I believe, a balcony. Outside toilets were behind Around 1910, Mr. Dey and his family moved into the school. One teacher taught all the grades. Children walked to school -- town in the new home of Front Street and the some walking several miles." In the early 1930’s, the school was moved church ceased to function. across the road closer to the Mason home to be used as a barn. Continued on Page 24 More memories of the Harlowe schools must still exist! Could you help us with more facts, pictures, names, dates? Call MaryLou Mason Langdon at 240-1921.