December 27, 2005

All of us have anniversary days. Some are joyful, some sorrowful, and some bittersweet. I try not to dwell on these overmuch, but when Christmas season rolls around, I can not help but remember the 2005 one.

The season, as always, was a busy one. Anne had been in the far east on her assignment with the Southern Baptist IMB, but Rob and Traci had put in a quick appearance before heading off to their adventure in Venice and London. Klep and I had not made it to South Carolina to visit our other son and his pregnant wife, so we headed off bright and early the day after Christmas. It is unusual for me to do the driving, but Klep was having an unusually painful bout with his sciatica and I drove up.

We had a lovely dinner and celebration with the kids. We were all so very excited about the grand daughter who was due in early June. The next morning we had a leisurely breakfast, packed the car with Christmas gifts for all the Florida people, and headed south.

After gassing up in Baxley, Georgia in the early morning, I was driving on US 1. Klep was making a shopping list for a brief stop at the supermarket in Waycross when I spotted two dogs coming into the road. I swerved, lost control of the car in a spin, and ended up hitting one and maybe two pine trees. The next thing I knew, I could feel the branches from the tree in the backseat. Klep was sitting quietly in his seat not moving. The first thing I remember is turning off the car which was still running. I was blocked in the car. The driver's window was gone; the windshield broken. I had never felt so alone in all of my life or so frightened. There was blood on Klep's head. All I could think about is, "How can I tell my children that I have killed their dad!"

Fairly soon, a pickup truck stopped and at least two young men were at my window. They had called in the accident and told me that help was on its way. One of the young men reached in and held my hand while we waited. The other was able to reassure me that Klep was alive but unconscious. The Lord had sent two off duty EMTs to my rescue.

The ambulance arrived. Klep regained consciousness and was strapped to a board first and taken to the ambulance. Then, somehow, I was removed through the passenger side and placed on a stretcher. In the ambulance, another EMT took our vitals and I think I was started on oxygen. I was so very pleased that my blood pressure was low. In fact it was the lowest it had ever been. Fortunately I did not realize that it was because one of my lungs had been punctured by one of the five broken ribs on my left side!

One of the EMT's found Klep's cell phone and called the last number called, our nephew John in Florida. They were headed home after a doctor's appointment and immediately headed north to Baxley where they found us in the emergency room. They also called members of our church who started praying for us. We were hooked up to the usual iv's and oxygen in the ER and both of us were put through scans to see what had happened inside. They called in the surgeon for me. At some time that afternoon he told me that he was going to do something that would make me hate him. He inserted a tube into the side of my chest to drain all the fluid out and reinflate the lung. I have a very hazy memory of all this and what seemed like a few minutes was really several hours.

At some point in the afternoon a Georgia Highway Patrol officer arrived to get me driver's license information and to finish his paper work on the accident. He told me that after he saw the car that he did not expect to find anyone alive. I suppose, looking back, that this was the first time that I realized how very blessed we were that day.

When I was stable, they asked which major hospital I wanted to go to. Of course, my first choice was South Georgia, but they did not have a bed available. The hospital they sent me to was Memorial in Savannah. They did not have a bed available (flu epidemic), but they were the regional trauma center for Baxley.

Sometime after dark, I was loaded onto a helicopter with an attendant with me. By this time I knew that Klep, though concussed, was all right and was being released. Anyone who knows me, knows that flying is not one of my favorite things, but the doctor would not allow me to make the trip in an ambulance. So, we were up, up and away. I remember seeing the lights of Savannah as we approached. I remember being taken off the copter, taken into the hospital, and going through more scans and examination. I vaguely remember one of Kevin's KA brothers, Vic being there to see me.

They kept me in the emergency room ICU that night and all the next day. A steady stream of doctors came through. Kevin and Reagan arrived. The pastor and his wife came. Klep was in. John and Pam were there. I issued a few orders either then or earlier about who was to be told and who wasn't and who was to tell whom. I also told Klep that he was to come home and pay the taxes and get the truck. Anyway, I must have been a little repetitious, because they still tease me about my concern about getting the taxes paid before the end of the month!

I was told that I would probably be put on a respirator. With the injuries I had sustained, I needed to expect that. I had five broken ribs, a cracked sternum, a cracked shoulder blade, and a broken collar bone, plus a number on small pieces had been broken off my spine.

That night I was moved into a room in the ICU. Sometime during the night a young black woman came in to clean me up. She told me that she knew I was one of His because of the smile on my face. She was a true blessing.

Klep rode home with John and Pam. Kevin and Reagan stayed until they knew Klep was back, and we started the steady process of getting better. The phone calls started coming in from all over. Anne called. I told her I was fine. When Rob got to London and had Internet access, he found out. My mother continued to fret. I spent New Years Eve and New Years Day in Savannah. I remember FSU losing in the Orange Bowl. Sometime during that week, I started occupational therapy to learn how to get out of bed without doing further damage to myself. I had about a thousand x-rays. I got an epidural pump for the pain. I learned a lot about being in the hospital.

On the afternoon of the fourth of January, the doctors decided I could come home. Klep lined my seat in the bright blue Dodge with pillows and we headed home.

Rob and Traci arrived home from their trip the same day I left the hospital. They were over to check on me and to stay for the weekend. Bless Traci's heart, she took the tree down and put all the ornaments away for me. They also fielded telephone calls, took care of food, got me extra nightgowns, and were an all around delight.

I gradually walked more and more steps each day. I knew that the sooner I could move around easily, the sooner I would be better. The nights were the hardest because I had to sleep on my back. I only took medicine for pain at night after the first few days home. I wanted off the medication as soon as I could be. I did not spend all night in the bed until the middle of February. Each night when I got particularly miserable, about 1:00 a.m., I would move to the large recliner in the hallway where I would lie in a cocoon of pillows and sleep until morning.

When Klep started back to work, my mother came everyday to stay with me. It was not easy on her and by the end of the month, I felt well enough to stay by myself.

People were wonderful during this time. The people in our church brought food. The people in Klep's organization at Moody brought food. Col. Oshiba's wife cooked a whole collection of Korean food that he brought on Saturday afternoon.

So, I suppose December 27 is one of those anniversaries that I will always remember. I am ever so thankful that we survived the crash. I am thankful for all those people who helped us that day and who helped us through the six weeks of recovery. I learned how very loving and caring my family in. I learned how much my husband loves me, if I ever had any doubts. I learned how very generous and loving our church and our friends are.

I am convinced that our survival was a miracle and that those EMTs did not show up by accident.

Christmas 2011

Our Christmas season which began with Thanksgiving (both literally and figuratively) is well into its second week. As I gaze out the front door through the wreath, I pause for a minute to let the feeling of Christmas just seep into my very being!

Our Christmas is both a static and a changing thing. It is static in the traditions which we have developed. It is changing in the many ways that life itself changes and evolves. This change does not negate the quality of Christmas, just the way it unwraps gradually as we age and our children leave and change. Many things about the Christmas with young children I miss; others? Not so much!

Now, I have more time to do little things for others. One of the things we started even when our children were young was to buy gifts for some people who would not receive any otherwise. This, I can now do at a more leisurely pace. I now have time to make fresh cranberry chutney from the leftover fresh cranberries. Lunches with friends can be long and leisurely.

We no longer have young children to pile into Green Gas Hog to go see the Christmas lights. But, we have my 88 year old mother who will enjoy a ride through the beautifully lit Stephen Foster Memorial Park in White Springs. We also have the time to ramble around to our hearts' content listening to Christmas music on the radio and marveling at the things others have put up for our enjoyment! I always strongly suspected that we enjoyed these Christmas light jaunts more than the boys anyway! It was a way for our house to be cleared out so that Santa could do his magic and go on to other parts of the world.

Now we have more time to catch a play or a concert or a full moon reflected on a lake where we can marvel at the timelessness of the Christmas account. It matters not a whit that the birth was probably not in December. What matters is the magical, wonderful miracle that we worship a God Who cared enough about us (worthless and disobedient as we are) to come to earth in the form of a baby to reveal himself to us!

So! Bring on the lights, decorations, music! Sorry, Elvis, there will be no Blue, blue Christmas at our house this Christmas 2011!

William Kensinger 1823 - 1873

William P. Kensinger: 1823-1873
After the canoe trip Saturday, we rambled around "hollars" and over back roads passing many of the little churches in Hancock and Hawkins County where Klep's great-grandfather, William P. Kensinger preached during the seventeen years that he shared the gospel as an ordained Baptist minister. He lived very near to the area where we spend a couple of months each year. Many of these places were from seven to twenty-five miles away from where he lived.

Some were on the other side of the Clinch River. To fully understand his commitment to his calling, we need to remember that this was long before roads were paved and the bridge was built over the river. Klep has been transcribing the Reverend Kensinger's handwritten notes into the family history he's been researching and writing since 1976. His great grandfather wrote in a classic style of handwriting the title of his sermons, the text, and where he preached the sermon.

During the Civil War, he served as pastor of the Hickory Cove Baptist Church. This period of time was particularly difficult in this section of Tennessee where there were actually very few slaves. As in other parts of the south, families and neighbors were often divided over where they stood on the war. There was as much or more danger to the population from bushwhackers and people who used the war as an excuse to do evil to one another than there was from actual combat .

After the war, he traveled around from church to church and to some schools where he preached. Some of his sermons were given in homes. He often preached on days other than Sunday, or the Sabbath as he wrote it in his notebook. We wish that he had included personal notes about how he traveled. Whether he rode a horse or had a buggy, though, all the riding on unimproved roads and across rivers would have been daunting.

One of the saddest parts of his ministry to the people in the mountains must have been the funeral sermons he gave for the children. During this time, long before modern immunizations and antibiotics, there were many entries in his log for funeral sermons for young ones. Several were for two children from the same family on the same day.

William married late at 44 to Margaret Molsbee who also lived in the Hickory Cove area. They had two daughters, Mary Catherine and Rachel Ann who was born eighteen months before William died. Mary Catherine, sadly, died as a young child. Her father made no mention of her death in his log. Rachel Ann was to grow up and married Robert Samuel Molsbee Klepper, a third cousin. She was a slim,small woman.

It is sad to think that he did not live to see his daughter grow up. He was not an old man when he died. Although he was just a little mountain preacher, I am sure that he touched many lives as he fully gave his life to spreading the gospel around the hills.

Canoeing the Clinch River

We are blessed this year with perfect early October weather here in northeast Tennessee with daily highs in the seventies and lows hovering a little above and below fifty. Skies are clear blue and color is coming to the hills.

To the west of us a few miles is the Clinch River. Yesterday we drove over to one of Tennessee's conservation areas at Kyle's Ford and took a four mile canoe trip down the river which at this time of the year is quite low. Historically, the Clinch was an important river before the roads were paved through and across the mountains as a way to get the logs to market. When the river rose during the May"Tide" each year, loggers would fill the river with logs and float them down.

Tennessee has had enough rain this summer to keep the grass green, but not enough to bring the level of the river up. We were not in danger of drowning yesterday, but we did face some challenges navigating the course as we encountered the rocks that created some very low level white water. Our guide had assured us that the canoe was dang nigh indestructable which was good.

Our guide, Jeff, a young man originally from Williston, Florida, pushed us off from the bank four miles upstream from Riverplace at high noon. Even though the temperature hovered around seventy, it was quite balmy under the clear blue sky. I quickly took off my jacket and soaked up some rays as I helped Klep paddle our way down the river.

As we paddled downstream watching the high bluffs drift by us, we saw two blue herrings, what grandma calls Pore Joes. We also watched a Canadian goose fly into the river, land and float around. Our presence did not disturb him in the least. We saw white egrets, fish jumping, and the shelves of stone floating underneath the clear, amber waters. The song birds were often the only sound we heard.

The experience was one of those times to store up and remember as a very special, serene, peaceful time. The bridge came into view all too quickly. We made the four miles in less than two hours -- not bad for two old geezers!

New School Year

In the morning, bright and early, the big yellow buses will begin rumbling down the highways, into the tree covered dirt roads, across the rivers and up to the five schools that make up the Hamilton County School system. Other students will be dropped off by anxious parents, walk to school, or in the case of high school, drive themselves.

Many of these students are more than ready for school to start again, anxious to renew friendships, see teachers, and get back into the routine of the school year. Others are not so eager. The job of teaching would be easy if every student arrived at school anxious and ready to learn, but the job is to teach every student who is enrolled.

Teachers also have mixed emotions about the upcoming school year. The ideal situation would be to have a hundred percent of the teachers well prepared in both attitude and ability. We know, however, that we do not live in an ideal world. There are some teachers who are what I refer to as "the called." These are the ones that live to teach. Others are "the taught to teach" who have been trained and do a good job at teaching. Then there are others who fill the position and do an adequate job most of the time. Occasionally there are people who are filling a classroom, taking roll, and playing school without doing a very good job of it.

Administrators also come in different shapes, sizes, attitudes, and abilities. Some are a better match for a school than others. A good administrator can make a good school better. An adequate administrator can end up dampening enthusiasm of teachers if they let this happen. A bad administrator can poison the atmosphere of a school and damage the morale of both teachers and students.

Most of the times, teachers do not get to choose their administrator. Teachers, do, however, get to choose the attitude with which they go into the school year. A good teacher can make an administrator look better than they are. I hope that it is the goal of each of our teachers this year to make the administrators at each of our schools look like prize winners.

I well remember one year when our principal spent the time at our closing luncheon to pretty much tell the whole faculty off. This was particularly bad since we were all going our separate ways. We came back that fall with a renewed resolve as a group of teachers to see that our school did well. We worked together, encouraged each other, supported all the programs of the school and accomplished wonders. We made our administrator look so good that he was hired by someone else at the end of the year. We had such a good year that we were all really sorry to see him go.

So, tomorrow when I see the flashing strobes atop the buses drift by my window in the early morning light, I will be saying a special prayer for each of the teachers facing those kids in the new sneakers and their fresh school clothes. I will be praying that each of those teachers face this year with resolve to be the best that they can be. I pray for their health, their emotions, and their patience. I pray that they have wisdom, that they plan well, and that they be blessed with students ready to learn.

Mama's Birthday

Eighty-eight years ago, my mother was born in a converted boxcar in Kathleen, Florida while her parents were in Polk County working in the strawberry fields. The Jacksons were working to save enough money to buy their own farm in Lafayette County where they lived. She was the tenth and last child born to her parents, the fifth girl. This trip was their next to the last because they did save enough money. The rest of her childhood was lived near Mayo, Florida.


It was fitting that those of us who could, gathered to celebrate her life for a few minutes. When asked what was the most wonderful thing that had happened in her lifetime, there was a chorus from the grand kids, each claiming their birth as that most wonderful thing. Anne, of course laid claim to being the only grand daughter; Rob, to being the biggest baby. John topped them all with his assertion that he was the first and therefore the most special. As the laughter died down, she thought about the question and answered that she thought it was the change in birthing things that are available now to protect the health of mothers and children.


When she was born, there was no thought of going to a hospital to have children. When someone got sick, you did what you knew to do and prayed for the best. Her mother had been the person in the community whom people would get when there was sickness in their house. She would do what she could to pull them through. My mother said the sweetest prayers she ever heard were her mother's prayers for sick children when she did not know what to do.


When we look back on 88 years, we might think that someone would come up with computers or space travel or any number of modern additions to our lives, but I think there is a lot of wisdom to her choice. No matter how many problems we have with health care, our lives are so much easier now than in 1923. Childhood immunizations keep us from having to hear our little children racked with the horrible coughs that signify "Whooping Cough." The various measles, mumps, and chicken pox are basically things of the past. Cancer is no longer an automatic death sentence.

After lunch, mulling over her recent experience of getting a new driver's liscense, she pulled out her first one which expired in 1945. It was typed on a piece of form and on the inside was a place for offenses if you were ticketed.....no plastic; no picture.


My mother is the last of those ten children living. Her life has been a long one. She lived through World War II with her husband in the Pacific, a brother in Europe, a brother on a carrier in the Pacific, and four nephews scattered through the services. She watched her older sister die of cancer in the early fifties. She worried over nephews in the Korean War. She raised two children, helped farm, birthed a lot of calves and pigs, cooked a slew of meals, worked in tobacco, watched her children graduate from college, went back to school and got her high school diploma, celebrated the birth of each of her four grandchildren, dried a lot of tears, celebrated triumphs, shared heartaches, enjoyed her great-grandchildren, and grieved when her husband of 67 years died in 2003. She still raises the best tomatoes in the world and knows how to coax the most beautiful blooms out of roses.

I am sure that when someone has the nerve to ask her if she still drives and lives on the farm, she will give them a good hard stare out of those hazel eyes of hers and say, "Of course! I'm only 88!"

From North to South: Crossing the Border

At 3:28 p.m. yesterday afternoon we crossed into South Carolina, a little southeast of Charlotte. We decided yesterday morning that we were ready to head south, see the girls, and pick up summer at home where we had left it.

The day started in Lumberton. We traveled through little towns and by farms to get to pottery territory in Randolph County. For those of you who do not know, this area has been famous for its pottery since the early days of our country. The clay in the region was good for making crocks and jugs. The jugs, of course, were used to contain spirits, for medicinal purposes, don't you know!

We found that many of the potters now close on Monday, but we did find what we were looking for at Potts close to Seagrove and at Frog Town pottery. After lunch at Jugtown Cafe, we headed south to the border.

Now, all that is left is mulling over the trip and putting making our awards. Yesterday we added "Best Privy" to our categories. We will have ample time to do this while we travel to Commerce, Macon, and home today.

Father's Day on the Road: Lighthouses, Rain Storm, and More Piney Woods

We awoke this morning with lighthouses on the mind. We thought we were headed to Bald Island Lighthouse using our navigational device. Instead we arrived at Oak Island Lighthouse, the next one on our list. The small parking lot was full, but I got out of the car and took pictures.

This is the most modern of the seven, six still working, North Carolina lighthouses. It was built in 1958 and cost one hundred ten thousand dollars. built of poured concrete, the colors are permanent. The first 40 feet are poured grey Portland cement. The next 50 feet are white Portland cement with white quartz aggregate. The top 52 feet are grey Portland cement with black coloring. Oak Island lighthouse looks like a huge tube with a light on top, quite modern. Instead of a spiral staircase, there are ships ladders leading to the top.

The Garmin told us to continue on the same road to the ferry. So we continued to the end of the road where we found the Baptist Assembly Grounds who had a helpful guard at the entrance. He said he had been getting people who were using gps, Mapquest, and other directions who were all being sent to the wrong place. He gave us good instructions which got us to the Deep Water Marina in Southport.

The Bald Island Transportation Company operates the ferry which is strictly a passenger ferry. The tickets are not cheap, but this is a business, not a state run service. We were on the 12:30 ferry and could watch the lighthouse getting closer and closer as we curved around by Oak Island on the right and another island on the left before we docked 23 minutes later. We left the ferry and walked to the lighthouse in the 90 degree plus sunshine.

The Bald Island Lighthouse, "Old Baldy", the oldest working North Carolina lighthouse, was built in 1817 for sixteen thousand dollars. It is 109 feet 10 3/4 inches tall, built of bricks, and covered with cement. The spiral staircase is yellow pine. It looks like a large hexagon on the outside and the walls are extremely thick. Some of the cement is worn away on the outside which makes it look like it has bald spots. The name Bald Island actually came from the shape of the dunes on the south beach.

Less than five minutes after walking back to the dock, we were boarded on the next ferry. We stood on deck enjoying the wind and watched the lighthouse recede into the distance as we wound our way back around the islands to Southport.

Two minutes after we left the terminal the skies opened up, drenching us on our way back to the car. Fortunately we had made our trip in just under two hours, so our parking was free. It was raining so hard as we went back through town that we didn't stop for lunch. We finally found a place to eat in the edge of Lumberton on NC Hwy 41.

Pier 41 is a place frequented mostly by locals. The owner stopped by our table and gave us directions to where we could find motels. He told us that they tried to serve 1000 patrons each Saturday and Sunday. Their prices are quite reasonable, their portions large, and their service friendly. It is a place we would frequent if it were close to home, but we would order less food!

Klep enjoyed Father's Day phone calls from his sons. He says he has had a good day.

New Bern: A Trip to the First State Capital of North Carolina

We will start off with a little history about New Bern which was the first state capital. It was an early port. The Neuse River opens into the Pamlico sound at New Bern. Another important fact is that Pepsi Cola was invented here. It had the first fire department, postal service, public bank, incorporated school, and printing press in North Carolina. This town has been used widely by native son Nicholas Sparks in his novels: The Notebook, The Wedding, and A Bend in the Road. The town, founded by Swiss and German immigrants, was named after Berne, Switzerland.

We headed toward New Bern this morning planning a busy day. After our stop at the Tryon Palace Way Station to get tickets, we headed across the street, through the ornate gate, and down the wide driveway toward the rebuilt first government building of North Carolina that was used first by the governor appointed by King George III and later by the first few elected governors of the new state of North Carolina. Tryon includes three major brick buildings: the residence and state rooms, the stables, and the kitchen.

The kitchen was a lovely bright room with a wide fireplace large enough to accommodate seven fires. It had all the "modern" conveniences of the 1700's including a weight balanced wind up spit for roasting meat, a brick baking oven, and a device for using reflected heat to roast with.

The stable is the only original structure. All structures are on their original foundations, however. Fire destroyed the main building and it was rebuilt according to the original plans in 1950.

We were met at the door by a guide in colonial dress who took us through the rooms of the two floors and down to the basement. We got a good look at the elegant lives of the first inhabitants, the Tryons.

Behind the main building stretching all way down to the river are the gardens. Although we enjoyed the wonderful antique furniture, the outdoor space was really more delightful for us. There were mazes, herb gardens, large vistas of lawns, a kitchen garden with all sorts of vegetables, a goodly sprinkling of statuary, and wonderful trees. We saw artichokes growing for the first time. The plant was surprisingly tall.

After the palace, we toured two of the old homes, a Georgian and a Federalist. The John Wright Stanly house was build in 1780 by a powerful businessman who only enjoyed living in the beautiful symmetrically balanced Georgian house for nine years since he died in 1789 of yellow fever. This house was moved from its first location a few years ago.

The George W. Dixon house was built by a tailor and store owner who lost his house to foreclosure in the depression of 1837. He and his family lived in the house for about seven years along with a group of orphans whom he apprenticed in the tailor trade. This house was three stories high with each floor less elegant than the last. This house was built where it stands today.

After our house tours we walked over to the North Carolina History Center where we enjoyed a late lunch at Lawson's Landing Riverwalk Cafe. The made from scratch soups and the wraps were delicious. We watched the river as we ate and topped our meal off with a cone of lemon ice cream.

The shuttle took us back to our starting place where we walked through several more yard gardens which were beautifully colorful with blooming annuals and perennials.

We decided to try to fit in one more lighthouse before we called it a day. We swept down US Hwy 70 to Morehead City, Beaufort, and to Harkers Island where we discovered we were a little too late to get the private ferry to the Island where the the Cape Lookout Lighthouse is. We could see it across the sound, however, so we got our photo, checked it off the list, and pointed the car toward US 17 in Jacksonville, making a brief detour through the water front area of Beaufort to enjoy the old buildings and elegant houses.

We passed acre after acre of Camp Lejeune, a whole lot of urban sprawl, and found our Holiday Inn Express. We finished off our traveling pound cake along with some of our South Georgia peaches and a few strawberries. Now we are tucked in for the night and will head to the last North Carolina lighthouse tomorrow.

Beach, Rain, Ferry, and Mainland

Lightning and thunder briefly awakened us on Ocracoke Thursday night. We awakened to a bright morning, perfect for a walk along the beach at the National Seashore. We picked up a few shell, stuck our toes into the cold Atlantic, and tossed bits of bread to the sea gulls as they swooped, curved, and deftly snatched the bits before they hit the ground.

After leisurely watching the ten o'clock ferry slip into and out of the Silver Pond Marina, we packed up and planned to walk up the street to a little cafe when a deluge of rain changed our plans. When it did not stop, we dashed through it to the car and drove. Although a little damp, we enjoyed our delicious soft shell crab sandwich on ciabatta bread with prosciutto and fresh garnishes. The home chips and coleslaw were also excellent.
We took our reserved place in line for the Cedar Island Ferry and pulled out of dock at one. We were where we could enjoy the breezes and the view from the car. We reclined our seats and the ride lulled us into a little afternoon siesta. We disembarked at 3:30, returned to Hwy 12 and headed toward Havelock through marsh land and sparsely settled areas. When we passed part of Cherry Point Marine Station, we knew we were close to our motel.

We were blessed by the sight of a Dairy Queen. Klep pulled in, got our blizzards, and we were soon at a very new, very nice Holiday Inn Express. Some sort of model air plane flying thing was going on out back, so Klep walked down to watch. Today we have gardens on the agenda and then we have to make a decision about where we will head next.

Photos

Leaving the Hollar At the North Carolina State Line



Klep walks the Appalachian Trail Barbara discovers mountain laurel



Dugger Creek Falls View from ElkMountain


A view from an overlook Floyd's barbershop in Mt Airy


Main Street - Mt Airy Pretty Spot on Main St

First Flight,Elizabethan Garden, Lighthouses,and the Ferry

The last light is fading in the sky now that the fiery ball sank into Silver Lake with a colorful panorama entertaining us for almost an hour. In about an hour the almost waning full moon will light the sky over Ocracoke Island, the southernmost island in the Outer Banks of North Carolina. When we got off the ferry this afternoon, we knew that we had found what we hoped to find in the Outer Banks.

After we got to Nags Head yesterday, we made a trip to the northern part of the island to see the Currituck lighthouse, one that remains unpainted natural brick and contains at least a million bricks. Built in 1875, Currituck is the northernmost the North Carolina lighthouses. People were climbing to the top, but we opted to enjoy it from the ground.

On the way back down the island as we crawled down the congested highway, I caught a picture of the sunset out the car window.



This morning, we had an agenda, and we clicked things off. First up was the site of
the four Wright Brothers' flights with, of course, the visitors center and exhibits. We liked the old buildings where the airplanes were maintained. The wind was blowing a good clip. We could understand why they chose this place.

Next up was Roanoke Island which was just as congested as Nags Head. We could not find a parking place any where near the main part of town in Manteo, so we looked out the windows and drove on out to the Elizabethan Gardens which were a wonderful oasis of beauty with sweeping old live oaks, herbs, hydrangeas, roses, hedge mazes, statues, water features, bird song, and butterflies. I was able to pick up some ideas from the garden which I am sure Klep will enjoy putting into Mosquito Gardens.

Back through town and over the bridge and causeway we turned south on Hwy 12. We had used up 158. We soon left the congestion and entered some of the national seashore where we located our next lighthouse, the Bodie Island Lighthouse. This lighthouse is painted with wide bands of black and white bands around the building and was completed in 1872. Klep had an interesting conversation with the son of the last keeper before it became automated. He told us that when he was growing up, his summers on the Island were as close as a kid could get to heaven on this earth. During the winters, they lived on the mainland and his dad went back and forth by boat, but come summer, they moved to the island. The houses used by the keeper and his help are still on the site.
Further down the road we left the federal land and started seeing villages. We stopped and I had an oyster po'boy which challenged my ability to get my mouth open wide enough to eat it! We had discovered how good the local seafood was last night, and today's experiences did not disappoint.

Our last lighthouse before boarding the ferry at Hatteras was the Cape Hattarus Lighthouse at Buxton which is 198 feet tall and was completed in 1870. this lighthouse was moved in 1999 because of erosion. It is painted like a black and white candy cane with black and white spirals.




We drove to the end of Hwy 12 on the island and pulled into the ferry lane where we watched the first two ferries fill while we awaited our turn. We had a smooth crossing, enjoying watching the pelicans dive into the water for food as we approached Ocracoke nearly forty minutes later. From the ferry terminal, it was about twelve miles down through more national sea shore land to the village of Ocracoke, a village of about eight hundred permanent residents.There are no franchises or chains in the village. It is an unpretentious place full of charm. Our motel overlooks the marina which is known as Silver Lake. Travelling the streets of the village is slow because there are lots of bicycles, pedestrians, and golf carts. The roads are also narrow.

Our first stop after checking in was the Ocracoke Lighthouse which we can see across the harbor from our motel window. Built in 1823, it is only 77 feet tall and is painted solid white. It is built a little off center with one side more steeply shaped than the other. The keepers had to keep the covering up on the brick lighthouse, a stucco type substance made of quicklime, salt, powdered whiting, ground rice in boiling water, and glue which they mixed and applied hot.

After a drive around the village, we parked back at the hotel and walked down to waterside restaurant where we enjoyed fish and chips while sitting under an umbrella by the water listening to the live music and watching the sea gulls beg for food and harangue the diners. But the gulls were out of luck because it is against the law to feed them around an eating establishment.

On the way back to our sunset viewing on the balcony, we found some homemade peach ice cream which was just about as good as ours is. We settled into our Adirondack chairs and watched the show.

Pineywoods, Swamps, Ocean!

Last night we snagged the last room at the Holiday Inn Express in Henderson. We were ready for an early tuck-in. This day we headed east following the Lafayette Trail, one of North Carolina's scenic byways.


The trip began with a little rolling countryside through farms and forests. We passed acre after acre of small tobacco plants, cotton fields, and corn fields with a lot of old houses and small villages thrown in passing through Warrenton, Essex, Brinkleyville, Halifax, Crowell Crossroads, Scotland Neck, St. John, and Murfreesboro finding ourselves on one road named Flea Hill Road before we arrived at the Great Dismal State Park.

When we drove into Halifax, we saw a sign for the annual Cattleman's Association Beef dinners. As we were leaving town, we followed the signs to the agricultural center where a group of men were cooking and a group of women and young people were slicing, selling, and delivering. We enjoyed talking to them. They were cooking 2200 pounds of beef. We also got some good tips on the Outer Banks from one of the women. We tucked our boxed lunches into the back of the Escape and headed back toward the Great Dismal.

We ate our lunch which was really good and tender overlooking the Great Dismal Canal which used to be used for commerce. Now it is part of the intracoastal waterway. It is not a very wide canal, so its uses are limited. When the yellow flies decided they wanted to have me for lunch, we moved on down to the state park taking a nice hike on the boardwalk through the Great Dismal. The swamp got its name because it was so dense that the early settlers did not think anyone could survive there. George Washington, though, saw great economic hope in the swamp and purchased about four thousand acres of it. About sixty percent of the swamp is in northeast North Carolina; the other forty, Virginia.
With the swamp behind us, we found HWY 158 once again and headed toward the ocean. We have decided that the Outer Banks is suffering from the blight of all coastal communities: over development. The ocean, however is still here and there are lighthouses to discover.

A Day Living in History in Old Salem

Pleasant morning air greeted us as we headed out of the Holiday Inn for our visit to Old Salem, an area settled by the Moravians in the early eighteen hundreds. We drove past Wake Forest University as we went into town.

We entered through a large visitor's center replete with numerous exhibits and shops, but we opted to save all that for the afternoon. We entered the area through a functional replica of an old covered bridge. Our first stop was a museum of furniture and home furniture from the early Southern states where we saw pieces which varied from the primitive to the ornate.

Exiting the museum, we next stopped at the gunsmith shop where a man was working on the stock of a long rifle in order to fit on the metal parts that he had already cast. He and Klep had a good talk about the intricacies of constructing a gun from scratch and also about the Moravians' history of pacifism. For a century, their young men avoided service because the church paid the government extra tax, but in the Civil War Era, this ended.

The tavern was next. We enjoyed talking to the enactor of proprietor who explained the moneys in use right after the revolution. We walked through all the rooms, even the one where George Washington stayed. He had a room, not just bed space. Up and down three floors and down to the basement to the kitchen gave us a good appetite for dinner next door at the tavern annex which used to be additional rooms. Klep had a sauerkraut stew and I had the Moravian meatloaf with sauteed vegetables out of the garden which were all delicious. The real star of the meal were the muffins, rolls, and butter. We regretted being too full to order the gingerbread and lemon ice cream.

A retired printer took us through the print shop and photography exhibit before we went on to the Single Brothers House. We got a better understanding of the choir system which the Moravians have in their church. We also heard a beautiful organ which was actually originally in the house where everyone met together. This building also had demonstrations of many of the crafts that the single men were trained in.

We dropped in at the bakery, relished the smell, and got a treat for later before going to the doctor's house and apothecary. The doctor actually owned a slave which was frowned on by the church because generally, it was the church which owned property and not individuals. The other slaves in the settlement were actually owned by the Moravian Church as was all the property.

The Home Moravian Church was our next stop. Since the church is still an active, functioning church, one of its members does the talk here at certain times of the day. We came away with a much clearer understanding of the history of the Moravians which goes back to John Russ, a Catholic priest burned for heresy in the early 1400's because he translated the hymns into the heart language of his people and translated the scriptures. The history of strong congregation participation still remains today. Education is also an important aspect of their belief which led to their being pioneers in the education of women in the new world.

Salem College, the oldest college for women in the U.S. has its campus in Old Salem and we walked by many of its buildings.

Historic Saint Philips Church, a church constructed after segregation in worship started in the eighteen hundreds was our next stop. It is the oldest African American church still standing in North Carolina.

We walked back to the visitor's center, chatted with a woman working there, picked up some lemon cookies and headed to the car. Neither of us minded sitting down for awhile as we rode through the gently rolling farms and small towns on Hwy 158 toward our destination of the night - Henderson.

Searching for Mayberry in Mount Airy, North Carolina

Eight days out from the summer solstice, the sun rose early in north central North Carolina. By nine o'clock we were checked out of the Hampton Inn and headed to the Visitors' Center in historical Mount Airy. The woman at the center was extremely helpful, equipped us with a map, marked things she thought we would find interesting, and sent us on our way.

As we all know, The Andy Griffith Show was filmed on a set in Hollywood, but the hometown of the star grew up in Mount Airy. Many of the things that showed up in the show were from this town. One of the things that makes the show special so that it still survives in reruns is that the people were actually based on real people. By the time we had begun our exploration of the downtown area, we had already concluded that much of the sprawl and commercial growth that have effected most other medium sized towns in the South had also occurred here. We laughingly referred to the Opie McDonalds.

Old fashioned charm still mixes in with the commercialization of all things Mayberry. Many stately older homes hearkening back to the early nineteen hundreds still line the streets in good shape. The people are friendly and outgoing. Is there a layer of efforts to play up for the tourists and make a little money? Yes, but not to the extent that you find most places. Prices, generally, appear to be pretty reasonable.

Most of the quaint businesses including a real, honest to goodness hardware store, Floyd's Barbershop, and the Snappy Lunch are located in a few short blocks downtown. Floyd (the real one, not the actor) still cuts hair, but his haircut costs eight dollars instead of a quarter. Snappy Lunch (actually mentioned in some early shows) offers its famous pork chop sandwich for four dollars. I had mine without the chili and onions; Klep had his with the chili, onions, coleslaw, and tomato.

At the end of the shops of interests is the Mount Airy Museum of Regional History which is housed in a three story building which started its life as a hardware store. Our guide books told us, much to our disappointment, that the museum was not open on Mondays. We learned at the visitors' center that they had decided to open through the summer. The first floor exhibits objects from native Americans dating back to 2000 B.C. I found the native house constructed of slabs of tree bark interesting as well as the collection of spear and arrow heads. In the south gallery the settlement of the area, a log cabin, communities in the hollows, and early commerce was covered. One corner was devoted to a picturesque general store. In the west gallery is a huge model railroad showing models of all the communities on the railroad.

Downstairs in the basement we saw some granite outcroppings that the builders left when the building was constructed. A huge marble quarry has been mined for a century north of town. Klep enjoyed the antique fire engines, but I could not talk him into sliding down the fire pole.

The second floor had some exhibits devoted to famous people from Mount Airy including singer Donna Fargo (I'm the Happiest Girl in the USA) who started life as Yvonne Vaughn and Andy Griffith. A Victorian exhibit and children's toys completed the exhibits on this level.

The third floor had a nice Model T Ford and a quilt exhibit that was just going up. We walked up into the tower from this floor and gazed out over the mountains which surround Mount Airy on all sides, the most spectacular being Pilot Mountain which has a unique shape.

After we had our lunch at the Snappy Lunch, we visited the hardware store, drove
down to Wally's Service Station where the tours in the 1962 Ford Galaxy police cars begin. Our next stop was the Gertrude Smith House.


The house was completed in 1903 with three floors and a basement on a very large corner lot by Jefferson Davis Smith who came to Mount Airy from Greensboro and raised his family of seven children in the house. He owned and operated the general store and owned a great deal of real estate. One of his daughters, Gertrude attended the Parsons School of Design. She never married and returned home to take care of her aging parents. She did interior design in Mount Airy and in Greensboro as well as help with the family business. Two of her brothers who were both doctors also did not marry.

A Baptist Church came to Mr. Smith and asked him to sell them enough land to build a small building. He agreed with the stipulation that they not block the view of the mountains nor build right up to the property line. Both of these things they ignored, placing the building right on the property line and blocked the view. Years later after Mr. Smith died the church went to Gertrude in an effort to buy the rest of the land. Gertrude answered "Hell,no!" and got the house put on the National Historic Registry.

When Gertrude died at age 90, her younger married sister and her daughters flew into Greensboro from Atlanta, hired a limousine, and showed up for the funeral and will reading. After the will was read and she discovered that she inherited nothing from her sister, she headed back to Atlanta on the bus.

Gertrude left the house and everything in it to be used as a living museum.Nothing has been added or taken away from the house. Her money in a foundation has been able to keep this beautiful house and its grounds as a place people can visit with no admittance charge.

We took another quick drive through Mount Airy, found Hwy 52 and headed into the edge of the piedmont in Winston Salem. As we traveled, we saw Pilot Mountain in the distance.

We decided that the sprit of Mayberry is there in Mount Airy in the hearts of its people.