North Carolina Code 14-190.9 Willful exposure of private parts in public place and in the presence of others of opposite sex or aiding, abetting or procuring another to do so. Breastfeeding of infant exempted. Fine is 6 Months in jail and $500.00.

No requirement that exposure be “obscene” or indecent” – simple act of exposing one’s private parts is sufficient and there is no requirement that viewers be unwilling. State v. King 285 NC. 305, 204 S.E.2d 667 (1967) Skinny-Dipping in a lake in 1942 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nude_swimming

Along came Hurricane Earl, and once again we were faced with the decision, stay or go. Stay or go is a decision all Islanders have to deal with during Hurricane season. For some it is an easy decision. For others it is a decision they make with mixed emotions. In our case health is a factor. Staying can mean you are at the mercy of the elements, without electricity, and medical assistance.

For many the storms surge or flooding is a problem. Our friends in Hatteras village can attest to the trauma that they encounter when the ocean washes their homes away, or cuts an inlet separating them from the rest of the Island. During these horrendous times we all pitch in and do whatever we can to make life easier for them.

The decision to stay or go is never easy for Mary and I. When Hurricane Earl was approaching the Island we began our hurricane preparation by removing everything that might become a missal flying through the air from hurricane-force winds from the yard at our home and the Old Gray House. This is a huge task. We have many items for display in the yard at the shop. In times past I had a large amount of cement ornaments. One year I moved them in and out five times. “Enough of that”, I said, so I discontinued having cement statuary for sale. While I am dashing back and forth between our home and the shop, clearing the yards, closing shutters and boarding up, Mary was covering everything inside the Old Gray House that might be damaged by leaks in the old tin roof. That tin roof has been there all of our lives. Eighty years coming up. In between making hurricane preparations our ears are glued to each and every new detail about the approaching hurricane and we are dealing with tourists still wanting to come into the shop. By the time we get through hurricane preparation and dealing with tourists who can’t seem to understand the dangers of being on a barrier island like Hatteras during a hurricane, we are both totally exhausted.

There are many ifs to consider when a hurricane is approaching the Islands that enter into your decision to stay or go. What if the roof blows off? What if a tornado strikes? What if the electricity goes off and the storm hits during the night? What if the surge from the ocean covers the Island? What if we have a medical emergency and no one can get to us? What if highway 12 is flooded? What if the island is cut in half by an inlet? What if the bridge falls? What if? What if? What if? On and on it goes.

When a hurricane like Earl is approaching it is a guessing game as to what extent the damage can be. All you can do is listen to the reports from the weather channel and await the final decision from the county to issue hurricane evacuation. If they say clear out to the tourists you know they are anticipating something bad. They hate to give up the revenue received from the tourist trade. If they issue mandatory evacuation for locals as well, it is, “Katie Bar The Door, and Batten down the hatches”. That is when if you decide to stay, the officials will say to you, “In the event of your death who is your next of kin we can notify”.

In the case of hurricane Earl we had decided we would stay. That is until the weather channel began saying this was going to be a monster category four hurricane and after the tourist evacuation the county called for a total evacuation. Wow! We thought should this thing be the upper end of a category four or even become a category five Hatteras Island would be a sand pile. Finally, at the last moment, we decided that we had better leave. I decided I should find a place to go before leaving. After several unsuccessful attempts to locate a motel I found one in Rocky Mount, NC that had a vacancy. Finding a place to stay is never easy. If you wait very long after an evacuation is called everyone is fleeing the area. As we made our way up the beach, we were surprised to see that there was hardly any traffic and no water on highway twelve as we had anticipated. We remembered what a mess it was leaving the Island 17 years ago during Hurricane Emily. It took us three hours to get from Orgeon Inlet through Manteo.

After getting off the Island we realized it would be nightfall should we continue. Neither of us are much on driving at night so we found a Motel in Manteo at a cost of $139.00. Next morning we proceeded to the Motel in Rocky Mt., and spent the night there. We decided rather than sit in front of the TV waiting and wondering if our home and the Old Gray House would be no more, as we did in a motel in Greenville, NC during hurricane Emily, we would try to occupy ourselves by doing a little sightseeing. We drove out to a place called Wilson that had a row of antique shops. One in particular that helped to ease our minds was an antique shop called Boones. Wow, they have lots of stuff. www.boonesantiques.com You know it is not easy for Islanders to leave their property during a Hurricane. Mary and I know what it is like to loose your home. It was a bitter pill for us to swallow, when our home of thirty-five years burned and destroyed our family memories. Even thought years have passed , during hurricane season it pops into our minds, “what if we loose our Hatteras House.”

As we made our way back to the Motel how happy we were to learn that Hurricane Earl was not the big one that would completely wash away Ocracoke and Hatteras. Allen Burrus, our County Commissioner won his bet with Jim Cantore of the weather channel that the village of Hatteras would not be washed away. The next morning we headed back to the Island anticipating to be first in line as residents to gain access to the Island as soon as the road was open. We were in for an unexpected surprise.

We arrived at the Oregon Inlet parking area about noontime. It was loaded with motor homes, vans, and cars of tourists waiting for the signal to cross Bonner Bridge. No longer was precedence being given to locals who left as a result of a mandatory evacuation. So we went to end of the long line. We waited. We watched emergency vehicles, and one after another news media vehicles cross the bridge. Finally one of the news media pulled up and began interviewing people. As he was starting to put up his equipment I asked him if he had heard anything about when we would be able to go home. He asked me if he could interview me and I said, “ok”. When he asked where I was from he said, “You know you are the only local I have talked to. All these other people are on vacation. Of course you know me. I told him what I thought. At around 5 p.m. we noticed the cars and campers up front starting to pull out. At last we thought we are headed home, but were soon to learn that was not the case. We learned from others as we followed the crowd that there was water still on highway twelve and entrance would be delayed until the next day. What a mess. Here we are with no place to stay. Nightfall is coming. I said, “ Mary let me have your cell phone so I can see if I can find us a place quick. Everybody will be searching for a place and you know we don’t want to be on the road at night hunting for a motel”. Luckily the Motel we had stayed in at Manteo had an opening so we took it. Others, I learned, where not as fortunate as we were. Not only did they not have the money to pay for a motel, but they could not find a place. By this time our little forced evacuation vacation was now costing us around $500.00

Mary asked me, “What older people who have no transportation or money do who live on the Island in times of mandatory evacuation”. I replied, “I guess they do what we did when I was growing up. You stayed and never thought about leaving”. Usually families gathered together and rode the storm out hoping and praying for the best. When it cleared you thanked God for no loss of life, and went out and started helping each other put back together what was left.

The next morning we headed back to Bonner Bridge. A couple of miles before we got to Oregon Inlet the traffic was backed up. It seemed like it was forever before we got a glimpse of the bridge. Sure enough, the traffic was crossing the bridge very slowly bumper to bumper. Mary looked at me and I looked at her and I knew what she was thinking the same thing I was thinking, “Bonner Bridge bumper to bumper”? Now let me remind you that NC bridges safety records are rated on a scale of 1 to 10 with 10 being the best and Bonner Bridge has a rating of number 2. Ever so slowly we were like a creeping cat, until we were on the raised portion of the Bridge. Then the traffic stopped completely. We could feel the vibrations from the bridge and it seemed like we were there for an eternity. I knew Mary was thinking what I was thinking, “Silver Bridge”.

http://www.onlineweblibrary.com/news/silverbridge1.jpg
Silver Bridge

We were in Huntington WV when just up the river from us at Point Pleasant, WV the Silver Bridge fell on December 15, 1967. The chairman of our Church building project was in the process of putting the finishing touches on a cross to be hung in the center of the new auditorium, when the word came that his mother and father had died. As he waited for the recovery of his parent’s bodies with tears in his eyes he completed the cross. What a sad time this was for our entire church and community. Forty-six people went down in the icy waters of the Ohio River with the Silver Bridge. Two of the forty-six bodies were never recovered. The Silver Bridge was like the Bonner Bridge. It had out lived its usefulness. No body was thinking the Silver Bridge would fall but it did. You can rest assured that was not the case with us as we sat bumper to bumper, in stalled traffic on top of the Bonner Bridge. I thought to myself I would have rather taken my chances with Hurricane Earl than be sitting here on top of this constantly repaired bridge that was built in l963 with an expected life span of thirty years. One bump from a barge and Mary and I might become crab bait as the bridge comes tumbling down in the Atlantic Ocean.

I ask you what will it take for the politicians and the environmentalists to get together and stop the continual bickering about the replacing of the bridge. Will we have to wait until the bridge collapses and there is loss of life before something is done. Long bridge, short bridge, who cares. Just build the Bridge Now. We do not need any more hundred of thousands of dollar studies about the environmental impact of the new bridge. Divert the study money to building the bridge. What we need to do is gather up all of those that are stalling replacement of the bridge, and confine them on top of it, and let them sit there so they can think more clearly about the necessity of getting the bridge built soon. From that vantage point, I am sure as they look down at the Oregon Inlet’s churning waters they might come to a hasty decision to build the bridge NOW! I think if President Truman were in the White House, and he was presented the facts about how many lives are dependent having an access to the mainland in times of medical emergencies and storms he would say, Build the Damn Bridge Now. Shame we no longer have politicians in Washington like that.

Will we evacuate the Island again, probably not. Since Dare County has changed its reentry policy and we no longer have access to our property before non-residents have a chance to come in and plunder it, we will remain to protect our property. As far as determining what is safer, withstanding the forces of hurricane winds, or sitting on top of Bonner Bridge, I will take a hurricane any day.

If you have not done so take time to visit the web-sites:

www.replacethebridgenow.com

Click Photo to checkout

Check out Bridge Moms on facebook. They are to be commended for their fantastic efforts to get the bridge built. You politicians better wise up. Never under estimate the powers of angry mothers fighting for the safety of their children.

Friends of The Old Gray House:  If you have any comments you can contact us at oldgrayhouse@aol.com

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A Hatteras Lift

Dewey Parr

Having served for a period of time as a board member of one of the large charitable organizations, I came to realize that most of today’s charitable organizations are big businesses that spend a considerable amount of time seeking donations to perpetuate a beau racy. As with all big business organizations you need a Director and staff, with benefits, building, and supplies. The Director of the organization I am referring to made over $100,000.00 per year plus a huge benefit package. This requires lots of money therefore most charities spend huge dollars and time soliciting funds to keep their organizations going. I was once offered a job to serve as representative to assist in fund raising. The job came with benefits, a car, expense account, country club, and civic organization memberships and health insurance and retirement benefits. Part of my job would be to not only attend all types of social functions, but to wine and dine potential givers at the organizations expense. I think the philosophy with most charitable organizations seems to be that it takes money to make money and you have to put on a big front to reel in major donors.

` One major problem of today’s charity operations is to determine who is worthy to receive assistance. You have to be on guard as to who is fleecing the programs. The fleecing can be from the inside as well as outside. We read about those who administer the programs who get caught stealing form the organizations, but we seldom hear about the abusers who are recipients of benefits from the programs.

My father, who was a career Navy man, shared with me what he witnessed during World War II while stationed on a South Seas Island. He said at that time the American Missionaries had set up Churches on different ends of the Island to convert the natives to their particular brand of religion. In order to do this they provided food, clothing, and some medical assistance to entice the natives to hear their messages. At that time they received their supplies by boat. He said, every time a boat docked with supplies for a particular Church, most of the natives changed their religion. As he put it, “the Island tilted with each boat landing because all the natives ran to get what they were handing out.”

Who you help is a problem. How do you decide? I haven’t figured that one out yet. I recall what happened to Mary and me many years ago. I was a preacher in a mountain community. There was a family who never attended my church who walked the railroad tracks with a string of little children to their home up the “holler”. Usually the mother had a baby in her arms. They began coming to my door seeking food. When Mary and I looked at those little children standing there our hearts melted. Of course we gave them food even though momma and daddy were often seen walking the tracks with a cigarette dangling from their mouth, and a bottle in one hand. As a general rule we drove into town to go to the store on Thursday. When we would arrive at home it, as we were taking our groceries into the house, mother and children would appear at our door seeking food. We still gave them a little, but at that time we didn’t have much for ourselves and we had two little ones of our own. The problem began to ease up when I suggested I would take the family to seek governmental or charitable organizations help. In so doing I became aware they had already run the gambit of this route and were using the children to milk unsuspecting soft hearted people of everything they could get. It was this incident that brought to mind the statement that my mother used so often, “Charity begins at home.” Over the years Mary and I have helped many people who probably didn’t deserve our help, but we have lost nothing by doing so, because in our hearts we did what we felt was right.

I am not saying organized charitable organizations are all bad. I think we need to realize that any time we make a donation to any of our modern day charitable organizations that an extreme amount of that donations goes to maintain organizational expense. Sorry but I just don’t feel that those who solicit funds for charity need to be making huge salaries with all expenses including fabulous retirement packages while the people they are supposed to be helping do good to eke out a living. I also feel that just because we give to a charitable organization this does not frees us from being charitable to other individuals that might need help within our own community.

Another area concerning charitable donations that disturbs me is when a person is pressured or forced to give, by their employer, to a particular charitable organization. During my tenure as a teacher, every year we underwent pressure to give to a particular charitable organization. It wasn’t just a matter of giving a donation but being coerced to give a percentage of our salaries by way of payroll deduction. After becoming a member of the board of directors of that organization I learned the main motive behind this was so that our big boss, superintendent of schools, could be recognized at the big banquet held at the end of the charity donation drive. To me this practice is in violation of right of an individual to decide for themselves who they desire to help.

A truly disgusting miss-use of the concept of Charity is when you see many hiding under the non-profit or not-for-profit federal classification to rake off money from others or avoid paying taxes. Some religious leaders and community organizations have been quite successful in doing this. Not only does it hurt the honest charitable organizations but it often turns off a lot of people towards religious groups and sincere organizations It leads them to believe that all Church leaders and charity workers want is your money, and not to trust charitable organizations.

What was Hatteras Island Charity Concept like in the world of yesterday? They had few, if any organizations, to collect money other than Churches. Usually in the Churches a simple announcement that a Brother or Sister could use our help is all it took for individuals to help. Organized efforts consisted of getting together to restore houses after fires or storms. Little money crossed hands, because there was little money available. There were no large sums of money available for scam artist to steal. There was no governmental help.

The Hatteras form of charity was that you did something for somebody not expecting any form of compensation in return. You just did it from the bottom of your heart. A thank you was nice, but if they didn’t give you one you still were glad to have had the opportunity to help.

I recall a couple of minor present day incidents where no money crossed hands that have made me feel good inside. One example was of two students without any money, from Chapel Hill who decided to dash down to Hatteras Island to see the famous Cape Point for the first time. At daybreak they drove their new truck, which was not a four wheel drive without letting the air out of their tires, all the way out to the end of Cape Point. How they did it I will never know. When they started back guess what. They got stuck. I came along and seeing the two young men frantically trying to dig out offered to help. First line of duty was to explain they needed to let the air out of their tires. While forming a path with my hands to help get them out a Hatteras Island Professional who earned money hauling people off the beach came by. Seeing me on my hands and knees he asked what is the problem. I told him these two students without money decided to come see our beautiful beach got stuck. Without saying any thing he got out of his buggy and got behind the wheel of their truck. Using his Hatteras knowledge he drove them non-stop to the hard road, without charging them. After giving them instructions to get air back in their tires together we watched two thankful young men drive off. Simple as this act was it brought me and my friend who helped a feeling of joy because we did something to help others without expecting anything in return. To me that is charity.

I am happy to report that the old-fashion form of charity is still prevalent on the Island today. We have organized efforts such as the meals on wheels program, Methodist Men and other programs that provide assistance to others. There is even a program that gives relief to caregivers so they can have some free time to themselves. Within every Island Church you have outreach programs that are extended to every one in the community who needs help. These organizations do not have paid employees and all funds received go directly to helping others. Others practice charity constantly. If you are in need they do whatever they can without expecting any praise or money in return. Islanders don’t wait for some organization to come along and collect up a bunch of money to help others. Their help is extended to everyone regardless of their religion or race. They just jump in and do whatever they can to help those in need

In our community there was a little boy with cancer, from a family drained financially, who needed medical assistance. So a store owner instituted a collection jar, and lunches for a donation, to help raise money. This person went to great lengths to make the community aware of the need of this family.

When the people in New Orleans needed help after Hurricane Katrina, person after person went there time after time at their own expense to help destitute families rebuild. The list goes on and on. Time after time Islanders out of the goodness of their hearts have helped others. This is what I remember as a kid growing up on this Island, to be the true and unadulterated form of the word Charity.

Hatteras Island charities are acts of kindness that begin in a person’s heart and culminate into some form of kindness extend to another person, without any intention of receiving anything back, or recognition for doing so. No two people express this kindness in the same way. Some who are financially sound might express this through making money donations. Others express it by lending a helping hand or providing food.

What is Hatteras Charity? Charity is love. It is sharing your love for all mankind regardless of race creed or color expecting nothing in return. It is helping friends and strangers in need.

A reminder of the depth of Hatteras Charity came to me not long ago when without even thinking I used a forgotten old Island term. While headed home from the Old Gray House on the corner I spotted an old-timer standing on the other side of the road. I yelled out the car window to him, “Hi there, can I give you a lift.” He walked across the road and leaned over and said to me, “It has been a long time since anyone took the time to offer me a lift. You will never know how much it means to me to have someone take the time to speak to me like that. I thank you for the offer but I am waiting for someone.”

I didn’t think much about what he said at the time, but some time later after reading that he was in a nursing home it came back to me what those words meant to him. He was old and alone. He had outlived the rest of his family. No one took the time to speak to him or recognize his existence anymore. I also recalled the many times while growing up I heard other Islands speaking about giving someone a “lift” without referring to a ride. The lift he needed was to know someone cared about him.

Now where the term “lift” came from I am not sure but I do understand its significance when applied to charity. This being a storm-centered area where you are often surrounded by water I can envision the derivation of the term “lift” arising out of a person’s need to seek higher ground. Hatteras Charity is giving someone a lift. Helping them get to higher ground.

Next time you see someone lonely or in need don’t hesitate to provide them an old fashion Hatteras Island Lift. The same lift you give them will be the one that lifts you to higher ground.

Friends of The Old Gray House:  If you have any comments you can contact us at oldgrayhouse@aol.com

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My New Years Resolution

My wife prompted me to write this. During the night she woke me to ask if I was all right. I replied, “What do you mean”. She said, “You stopped breathing”. TV has been blaring for the last couple of days about those who died in 2009. This coupled with the fact that a neighbor, much younger than I, suddenly died and another friend my age suffering from Alzheimer’s is now requiring hospice care has not helped. Or could it be we attended a birthday party for a ninety year old friend.

What will the world be like when you celebrate your 90th Birthday?
What Year Will it Be?

Can you believe it? The year 2010 is here. What is better yet, I am still here. The odds that I might be here for 2011 are unknown so I would advise you not to place a bet on it. I am doing my best to make it possible but who knows what the future holds for any of us.

As I listen to the annual recount of last years events I realize there is nothing concrete in this world. Nations rise and fall, and the rich and famous disappear from the scene. You can be on top one minute and hit bottom the next. Tiger Woods, Ted Kennedy, and Michael Jackson are 2009 examples of how flimsy fame and fortune can be. It is an accepted fact that man is born to die. Death is the one constant that never changes. Death is no respecter of persons. Some would put taxes in that category, but taxes are only there because, “we the people”, allow it. All our efforts to prevent death are futile. The Good Book says, “It is appointed unto man once to die”. We can slow it down by putting into practice proper diet, exercise, medical check ups and good grooming. After that there is not much else we can do.

Some hunt for the elixir of life, or the fountain of youth all of their lives. All the things we do to make our bodies appear to be young still do not change the fact that we all age. Probably the greatest thing we can do is take the advice, “Why worry about life, you will never live through it.” Truer words were never spoken.

So if I cannot change the fact I am going to die what I can do about it? Who has the answer? Religious leaders tell us to put our trust in God. The Holy scriptures tell us to, “Take no thought for tomorrow”.

What is my remedy for a long and meaningful life free from worry about dying? The answer is summed up in two words, “Mental Exercise”.

Years ago on the advice of a friend I started a physical exercise program that I feel has not only prolonged my life but made life much more enjoyable for me. Click Here to read about my exercise program. Now I realize that there is another phase to a proper exercise program that is overlooked. It is Mental Exercise. A well balanced exercise program is a two phase program incorporating physical and mental.

My wife and I are now in the stage of life where our number one threat is the terrible deliberating disease called Alzheimer’s. At our ages, it is only natural there are times we wonder if we will be next. Alzheimer’s is like death in that it is no respecter of persons. Even a President of our nation, Ronald Regan, did not escape it. We joke about it because of the many blunders we make, but it is a possible reality that awaits us. At this time there is no know elixir for long life or cure for Alzheimer’s so until that time all people our age can do is to attempt preventive medicine.

My Preventive Medicine for Worry About Alzheimer’s and Death is Mental Exercise.

When I go to my favorite spot on the Hatteras south beach and look out over the ocean and view the sky above, I am aware that somewhere out there is a pool of knowledge unimaginable to mankind. It is this pool of knowledge that we will merge into at our death. Death is a transformation from a physical body to a spiritual body. It is the knowledge or the ability to know and learn that gives us the power to rise above our fears and human frailties.

My New Years Resolution is to Learn Something New Everyday. By doing this I do not have time to think about death. Learning is what will keep you youthful. Learning is what separates you from those classified as old people. Old people generally stop learning and looking to the future. Old people spend their days reliving and talking about the past. They often speak about things that happened yesterday, rather than today or hopes for the future. They live up to the level of expectation set for them by the world in general. They are like race horses that are no longer useful and sent to pasture.

I implore you who are older to stop listening to those who want to put you into a little box because of your age. Don’t fall for the constant reminder that your body is getting old by those who constantly tell you it is time to slow down. So you can’t do the things like you used to. It is not time to hang it up or crawl in a box waiting for someone to shut the lid. It is time to change courses.

Nowadays when I head to the beach the Cape Hatteras Light House reminds me that there comes a time in life when it is time to change your course. In times past it sent a light streaming out into the ocean to warn the ships at sea to change their course so they would not run aground on the dreaded diamond shoals. In all of our lives regardless of age there comes a time when we need to alter our course.

For we who are older it is time to seek new adventures that require less strenuous physical activity. The greatest enjoyment I had as school teacher was opening the lid of “the boxes” that children had been placed into by other teachers. By the time many of them came to me in the fifth grade their level of expectation had already been set and they accepted it as a fact. The biggest problem with our school system today is that children are not challenged to seek a higher level of expectation.

I could not but help but notice recently at a Church I have been visiting they have set aside a special parking close to the door for people over seventy. Evidently they assume if you are over seventy you are old and need to be treated different and act the role. In no way would I want to change the concept of respecting the elderly. I enjoy the senior citizen discount. I definitely enjoy the Senior Citizen Menu at the Buxton Captain’s Table Restaurant. I am not saying do away with all the goodies for we who have been fortunate to live longer. I am simply saying don’t put us in a box and say now this is the way we expect you to act and live. I am not ready for the lid to be shut on the box. I hope you are not either.

The body can be old and yet the mind can be young. It is mind over matter. The secret to a long happy productive life is Learning Something New Everyday. We who are older need to free ourselves from the darkness of the past and walk in the light of the new age. When I was a child growing up on the Island in the 1930’s my access to knowledge was limited. Books and a set of encyclopedias were not the rule of thumb in our Buxton home. My exposure to the outside world came primarily from the Buxton School at the end of the Dark Ridge Road or (Light Plant Road). Most of the knowledge I was exposed to was my own experience with nature and overhearing adult conversations in the general stores.

Just as we set up a scheduled time for exercising the body we need to do the same thing for exercising the mind. I have scheduled a time everyday to learn something new. Since I started seeking new knowledge the biggest problem I have encountered is to know when to cut it off. There is so much knowledge floating around as a result of the computer that you become overwhelmed. It would take a thousand life-times and then some to exhaust the pool of knowledge.

Regardless of your age, be it 1 to 100 acquire a computer. I encourage anyone that is bored with life to engage in learning something new everyday. If you are confined to a bed ask your family to get you a laptop. Standard equipment for every nursing home should be a laptop. Better yet get a hobby. Go on a quest to seek information about it. Mine is learning all I can about shells and the animals that live inside of them. Nursing homes should be buzzing with senior citizens talking about the new knowledge they have learned rather than their aches and pains.

My Computer Has Become My Primary Access to the Pool of Knowledge

Wake up world. With the advent of the computer and the World Wide Web, things will never be the same. Never again will anyone be deprived of learning. You are only limited by your desire to learn.

There is one other important feature of my new year’s resolution I forgot to mention. Learn Something New Everyday and find someone to share it with. Knowledge has little meaning if you cannot share it. I love living on an Island, but I realize no man is an Island unto himself. Everybody needs somebody. If you have nobody, once again the computer can help you relate to others as well as increase your knowledge through social networking. This is an area I have not fully learned how to navigate but I am finding it has unending possibilities for making new friends from all over the world. I say, to all who have allowed others to put them in a box and classify them as Old People, remove that title by becoming a part of a social networking group. Join these youthful groups. Stumble your way through them and learn with millions of others the joy of sharing. Become a Twitter-Bug. Show your face on Face Book. Reserve your Space on Space Book.

If you have taken time to read my New Years Resolution to Learn Something New Everyday, I want to thank you. I thank you for feeling my thoughts are worthy of your time. I would welcome hearing from you.

As I look over the ocean from my favorite spot on the South Beach of Hatteras Island I can visualize my final access to the unending pool of knowledge that will take me into the Eternal Pool of Knowledge. Until that time comes I will be content with dipping into the limited pool of knowledge in this world.

One of the best places I have found to begin dipping into the pool of human knowledge is Wikipedia. I am thrilled that through the efforts and dreams of the founder of Wikipedia, The On-line Encyclopedia, the children of Hatteras Island and the world are no longer limited to acquiring knowledge as I was as a child.

"Imagine a world in which every single person on the planet has free access to the sum of all human knowledge."
                                                                                                                                           Jimmy Wales, Founder of Wikipedia

I too have a dream. It is my dream.

“Never will there be a time when every single person on the planet be denied free access to looking over the ocean from the South Beach of Hatteras Island and visualizing the Eternal Pool of Knowledge that awaits them.”

Friends of The Old Gray House:  If you have any comments you can contact us at OuterBanksShells.com

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Hatteras Beach Rock Update

By Dewey Parr

Pictures of Rocks Brought To Me

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As you stroll through my garden you will see Rocks brought to me by visitors to the Old Gray House

I want to take this opportunity to say thanks to all of you who have been bringing rocks to the Old Gray House since the first article I wrote that was published in the Island Breeze in June of 1999. I now have rocks brought to me from many different states including Canada. In that article I revealed my love for rocks and visitors to the Island are still bringing them to me. I guess you would call this new story on rocks and an update to that story. I will do my best in this up date not to repeat what I said previously about rocks. One sure sign of old age is when you start babbling over, and over about the same thing, and never talk about something new. A lot has changed in my life since then, but there has been no change in my fascination with rocks.

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I call theses Beach Rock. Why? Because I found them on the Beach.

Since my first article I am a little more sophisticated in my terminology and classification of Hatteras beach rocks. When you walk our beaches you find five types of rock. Coquinite, Marl, from the continental shelf, Ballast Rock from ships, Lightning Rock, and Black Rock, (Coal) from ships. As s child on our beach even finding a piece of coal created excitement for me. I envisioned slaves on ship stoking a coal furnace. My main experience with coal was when I went to College in Kentucky. It was there I experienced what it might have been like to be a slave aboard a ship on the end of a shovel. I shoveled coal all winter long to feed the school furnaces in order to help pay my tuition. Occasionally you will find a piece of rock that has been brought to the Island for fill or even a piece of rock from the old lighthouse that was blown up, like the two rocks at the entrance to the Old Gray House.

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Red Rock From First Lighthouse After Blown Up

Finding a rock, coal, or a brick on the Hatteras sand beach, no matter how small it might be, has always been a treasure. I am not a rockologist and have a very limited knowledge of how to classify rocks with the exception of what a learned at a very young age on the Island. I was told there are three basic forms of rock: Soft (Sedimentary), Hard (Metamorphic), and Harder (Igneous). Each one was associated with heat, pressure and depth. I was also told the inner core of the earth was hot and the deeper you go the hotter it gets. I guess that is why in our Buxton Churches they always referred to Heaven as being up and Hell being down.

As you walk the Gray House Garden Path You Will See Sedimentary or Coquinite Rocks Found on the Beach. Many of these Rocks Are Gifts From Visitors To the Old Gray House Who Find Them On the Beach While Vacationing.

When I walk the Hatteras beach the majority of the rocks I find are Sedimentary or Coquinite Rock. They are a conglomerate of bits of shells, whole shells, and anything else that is cemented together with sand. It is stuff that falls to the bottom of the sea and is bound together with heat and pressure. It is like what my Mary does in the kitchen. She takes some of this and some of that tosses it in a bowl and sticks it in the oven and out comes something good to look at and eat. Now that is creating a conglomerate. If you look closely at the coquinite rocks you find on the beach they will reveal clues to the past history of the many types of shells and sea life that has been available at Hatteras.

Coquina is the Spanish word for cockleshells or shell fish. It is a rock composed of shell fossils, and minerals bound together as a result of wave action, pressure and low heat not much more than 100 degrees C. Often you will find whole shells incorporated into this rock formation. When you look in some of the shells you will notice crystal formations taking place. It is fun to see how many different types of shells are within a rock formation.

My knowledge of the technical terms for various rocks I have found over the years is limited. I just know from looks and experiences that there is definitely a difference between the two major rock formations you find on the Hatteras beach. In addition to Sedimentary or what I call common beach rock, you find a heavy dense gray rock that has fossil impression in it. This rock is called Marl or Marlstone.

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Marl Chunks of Marl that broke off the Continental Shelf

What is Marl? This definition is provided by my favorite encyclopedia, Wikipedia the free encyclopedia.

Marl or marlstone is a calcium carbonate or lime-rich mud or mudstone which contains variable amounts of clays and aragonite. Marl was originally an old term loosely applied to a variety of materials, most of which occur as loose, earthy deposits consisting chiefly of an intimate mixture of clay and calcium carbonate, formed under freshwater conditions; specifically an earthy substance containing 35-65% clay and 65-35% carbonate. The term is today often used to describe indurated marine deposits and lacustrine (lake) sediments which more accurately should be named marlstone. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marl

The thing that sets Marl apart besides its weight and clay appearance is that it is not flat like the common beach rock. It is often in oval heavy chunks with fossils or imprints of fossil formations. This rock is composed of soft clay dating back to the Miocene Age (23.7 to 5.3 million years ago). It breaks off of the continental shell and washes up on our beach after intense storms. Think of the stories this rock could tell if it could talk.

Fulgrite
Lighting Rock (Fulgrite) found on the beach

Another rock like formation is what we call Lighting Rock. This rock formation is of such a nature that I feel it merits a little more attention than I gave it in my first article. The best place to find it is near or on the sand dunes. I guess the reason is that when lightning strikes the beach it usual hits what ever is the highest. This is one reason why when you hear thunder it is best to clear the beach because you are the tallest structure on the beach, which makes you the number one target for a lightning bolt. In times past we have had individuals killed on our beach as a result of lightning. The scientific name is Fulgrite. Some people confuse this freak rock of nature with that of our common beach rock. In fact I have seen crafts in the stores mounted on our common beach rock with labels on it describing it as Fulgrite. There is no comparison between the two formations.

Wikipedia, the free on-line encyclopedia provides this explanation of Fulgrite

Fulgurites (from the Latin fulgur meaning thunderbolt) are natural hollow glass tubes formed in quartzose sand, or silica, or soil by lightning strikes. They are formed when lightning with a temperature of at least 1,800 °C (3,270 °F) instantaneously melts silica on a conductive surface and fuses grains together; the fulgurite tube is the cooled product. This process occurs over a period of around one second, and leaves evidence of the lightning path and its dispersion over the surface. Fulgurites can also be produced when a high voltage electrical distribution network breaks and the lines fall onto a conductive surface with sand beneath. They are sometimes referred to as petrified lightning. The longest fulgurite found is approximately 4.9 meters (16 ft) to 5 meters (17 feet) in length, and was found in northern Florida http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fulgurite

Should you be fortunate enough to find a piece of fulgrite while walking the beach come by the Old Gray House and show me.

Of the different type of rocks you find on the Hatteras beach the most historical is that of the Ballast rock. What are Ballast Rocks? Ballast Rocks were used by sailing ships to stabilize the ship. Rocks, gravel, sand, iron rods, barrels of wine or water, old cannon balls, or whatever was available was loaded in the hull of sailing vessels to equalize the ships depth in the water. It is similar to what the Chamber Nautilus animal does with the empty chambers in the Nautilus Shell. These rocks did not always indicate a given area from which the ship came from. The rocks were discharged from the ship, or added from different ports throughout the journey. Without accurate scientific testing of these rocks it is impossible to determine their origin or how long they may have been on the ocean floor. One can only come up with mental pictures in their minds of what ship or country these rocks originated from. We cannot even be sure that the ballast rocks we find on our beaches are from a sinking ship, Many times they were thrown overboard to stabilize or correct the draft of the ship during storms or entry into ports.
                                                                                                                                                                                                     Ballast Rocks

I found it interesting that ballast rocks were being used to determine if the discovery of the shipwreck in the Beaufort Inlet, NC is actually the pirate Black Beards ship, the Queen Anne’s Revenge. Scientific testing is being used to determine if the ballast rocks found at the wreck site came from known ports visited by Edward Thatch know as Blackbeard the pirate. I was not aware that rocks had DNA tracks that were traceable similar to human DNA.

Large ballast rocks are not found often on our beaches today except for bits and fragments. In times past it was not uncommon to find good size ballast rocks as a result of an angry ocean that tossed them up on the beach from shipwrecks. As a general rule, they were round or smooth without rough edges except irregularities caused by erosion and wave action. The reason they chose round smooth rocks to place in the ships was that it was dangerous to have rocks with sharp points that might cause damage to the ship’s hull due to shifting in rough seas. Islanders collected ballast rocks to use around their yards and even incorporated them in foundations or their chimneys. Each rock was considered to be a treasure to talk about. There was always much speculation as to what shipwreck or what country these rocks might have originated from.

Much can be learned about stabilizing the balance and level in the water of ships and how this affects our ocean ecology today. We have replaced ballast rocks with ballast water. This has led to problems throughout the world due to the discharge of ballast water from ships. Often this water is contaminated and it releases alien creatures as well as harmful bacteria into our waters that cause severs ecological problems as well infecting our food chain. This is especially true throughout the Great Lakes and parts of Canada that are suffering from an infestation of such creatures as the Zebra Mussel, Sea Lamprey, European Green Crab and the Chinese Mitten Crab which is a host to the lung fluke (Paragonium Westerman) and who knows what else has its origin in the release of ballast water from foreign ships. Once alien creatures are released into the waters unless preventive steps are taken immediately, they spread throughout the waterways of the entire nation causing billions of dollars of devastation. It is estimated that Zebra Mussel alone is responsible for losses of millions of dollars annualy to the fishing industry. People who swim love to see crystal clear water but they are not often not aware that many fish such as the Wall-Eye along with some plant life prefer cloudy water. If you are interested in the problems created by ballast water and the Zebra Mussel clearing up cloudy water and clogging intake valves then check out this web site.

Click here to learn more about Ballast Rocks.

My explanation of the different types of rock that I find on the beach may not be as accurate as yours might be but it satisfies me and my curiosity. Until someone like you takes the time to correct me I will continue with my unscientific classification of rocks I find while walking the Hatteras Beach. Should you know better I will remain in my little world of limited knowledge of rocks until you supply me with more up to date knowledge? Don’t hesitate to let me know if I am mistaken, I have been told that many times before and it never has offended me if you supply me with correct information.

I am indebted to Andrew Alden for all the information he supplies on About.com concerning rocks. He sure knows his subject even though I am not able to fully understand it. I thought it was quiet commendable that he took the time to promptly answer my questions about the rocks I find on the beach. Below is his reply that substantiates what I have said about Hatteras Beach Rocks.

If you have any questions about rocks you definitely need to take the time to check out what Andrew Alden has to say about them. Click here for rock information. http://geology.about.com

Picture of WV Bowling Rock

Thanks again for bringing me rocks for my rock garden. Someone from WV brought me the bowling ball and sign you see in my garden. They called it a WV Bowling Rock. I guess it is some kind of Hill Billy joke. Now you know what to do with old bowling balls. Bring them to me for my rock garden.

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Feeding Birds is a Priority At The Old Gray House
By Dewey Parr

As you can see from the pictures, I have a small area that I have designated in my garden to let all birds know they are welcome. With the help of my friends’ everyday I try to provide them with feed and water. Others feel the same way I do about birds. Recently when I went to put feed in the bird feeder there was a $20.00 bill stuck in it. I and the birds thank whoever left it. It went a long towards purchasing better bird seed.

Notice the twenty dollar bill stuck in feeder.
The Birds and I Thank You

I love all birds. I have always loved all birds. Regardless of what our National Park, Defenders of Wildlife, and the Audubon Society do to our Island as a result of their stupid ideas to protect the piping plover. I will still love all birds including the Piping Plover. I am not like the environmentalists who are selective when it comes to birds or people. I do not believe in putting one bird or person above another. We are all God’s creations and should be respected and treated alike.

After a long summer of not being able to walk or drive to my favorite spot on the Island, finally the Park Service opened limited access to South Beach. When my friend Clarence and I approached our favorite place on South Beach we spotted a sea gull in distress. As you can see from the pictures the poor little thing was doomed to die without any help.

My first thought was what we can do to help this poor bird. As I was getting ready to call the Park Service office I spotted a Park Service vehicle coming down the Beach. As they approached they spotted the bird and stopped.

Hooray! Help Is on the Way. Here Comes the Park Rangers

I walked over to them and asked what could be done to help this sea gull. They said, “We have a program with a person designated to take care of wounded birds and we will call it in.” After they called we talked for awhile and I discovered they where summer employees. Before they left they asked if we would hang around to help the person coming out to get the bird locate it. We gladly said we would.

At last, I thought I was going to have the opportunity to praise our Park System, but once again I found it was not the case. What a disappointment.

We waited and waited so I called the Hatteras National Park Headquarters three times asking when they where coming to get the wounded sea gull like the two rangers said they would. The person on the other end of the phone acted like it was a joke. After a long time, and the Bird Ambulance did not arrive, we had no other alternative but to leave the poor little sea gull on the beach and head back home. Before doing so I made one last call to the Park office and with the comment, "Why don't you admit it you don't care about a wounded bird unless it is a piping plover".

It Really Hurt Us to Leave That Little Bird to Die Because of the Park Service’s Lack of Concern

The rest of the evening and that night all I could think about was the picture of that Sea Gull sitting there helpless left to die. The more I thought about it the more I decided to find out just what the Park Service did to help birds other than Piping Plovers so a I sent an e-mail to the Park Service Superintendent's Office. Much to my surprise after 12 days they did respond. Evidently my request precipitated some discussion. You will notice copies of the e-mail were sent to other park officials. Read it and you will conclude what the Cape Hatteras National Park’s attitude is about wounded birds or animals that are not declared as endangered.

Please note the Phrases, "LET NATURE TAKE ITS COURSE", AND "NATIVE SPECIES".

Our Park Service is definitely not practicing what it preaches. If you let nature take its course then you don't kill off all the other animals you feel are undesirable. If you check out the mandate of the National park you will find it is their obligation to protect and preserve all wildlife in their natural state. I would also question their concepts of putting the protection of outside species above native species. Their argument for removing all the foxes is that they are not native to the Island. That is baloney. I am 78 and foxes have been here all my life and the life of my Island ancestors.

To me this picture I took of a sea Gull is the biggest joke on Hatteras Island

Our National park has probably killed and maimed more animals in the last few years than anyone. Look at the Chart that Barbra Ackley prepared of their recent activities.

I am sure there are hundreds of destroyed animals we know nothing about. What are the real statistics of how many animals the Park Service has destroyed or removed from the Island?

I recall a few years back the park service brought in a special person and paid them to eliminate all the feral cats. Maybe that is why this Island is become overrun with mice and rats. Don't mess with Mother Nature. Our National Park needs to take a look at the lesson learned from the attempt to alter nature by removing all the cats on Macquarie Island as reported by CNN.

(CNN) -- Efforts to remove cats from Macquarie Island, a sub-Antarctic island and World Heritage Site, have indirectly led to environmental devastation, according to a report published in the Journal of Applied Ecology.

Take time to read the full account by Dean Irvine for CNN how messing with mother nature led to trouble just like it is here on Hatteras Island. Click here for the rest of the story.

I keep asking myself how can the members of the Defenders of Wild Life and the Audubon Society condone the unjust killing and maiming of innocent animals. It is gross to walk our woods and see bits of animals in traps where they have gnawed off a foot or other body part to escape.

I along with other Islanders grew up under the policy, “LET NATURE TAKE ITS COURSE”. To us it means try to help anything, animals, birds, or people in need. We did not show preference to one species above another. .In our world only God had the right to decide who should live or die. Not the National Park…. To walk away from one animal and let it suffer in preference to another is cruel and inhumane. Everything has a purpose for living. Sea gulls are classified as scavengers and predators to Piping Plovers the “Royal Bird”. When I look at a Sea Gull I see a bird that has a purpose for its existence. Scavengers are important. They clean up the mess left by others. If it was not for the sea gulls our beaches would be a stinking mess. The Park Service should be protecting them. They do the job for them. What does a Piping Plover do to help?

In no way am I an authority on Birds or anything else. The bases of my conclusions about managing birds are based on nothing except my personal observations from walking our beaches and watching the birds on my property. If you Let Nature Take Its Course the birds will take care of themselves and work things out. It could well be that Nature has decided it is time for some birds to become extinct just as it did concerning the dinosaurs. Of course if our environmental friends, who are hell-bent and determined to destroy Hatteras Island, lived back then they would probably want to enact laws to protect Tyrannosaurus Rex.

What Would This Sea Gull Say To the National Park?

If this sea gull could talk to us from Bird Heaven I am sure it would have something to say about our National Park such as: Why does the Park Service say I deserve to die? Am I not a bird? I thought the National Park was dedicated to preserving and protecting me and all other wildlife. Why, oh why, did you look the other way and let me die?

If I had known then what I know now, I might have been able to save this poor little bird. I would have called Lou Browning. He is trying to help all birds. I e-mailed Lou and asked him, “Do you consider a sea gull a predator not worthy of being helped if it is injured?” He replied, “I rehab lots of gulls. The only ones that I think are very predatory are the black backs, but I rehab them too. I don't figure they had any choice as to what they were born as.”

What Lou Browning is doing is commendable. He is preserving the Island Tradition of helping to preserve all life. My advice to all the members of the Audubon Society and the Defenders of Wildlife is stop sending your money to support their efforts to destroy the economy of Hatteras Island and remove all predators (that includes people). Send your money to Lou Browning to help out with his efforts to preserve all wild life, including the Piping Plover. Take time to check out Lou Browning's web-site. He is doing what the National Park System should be doing. Send a donation. I am doing it today.

Click here to visit Lou Browning's web-site:    http://www.hiwr.us

Once again I say to the Cape Hatteras National Park, “It is time to practice what you preach. "LET NATURE TAKE ITS COURSE." Stop your meddling with Mother Nature.

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Outer Banks Bike Week

By

Dewey Parr

V- - - - R - - - - O - - - - - O - - - - - O - - - - - U - - - - - -M is the all day and late evening sounds you hear on Hatteras Island as groups of Bikers pass through going and coming from Ocracoke. To many Islanders it is an unpleasant sound but to others it is a welcome sound. It leads to another sound the K- er – chinging of cash registers. This year in particular it was a welcome sound to local businesses that have been suffering from the economy and the closure of the beaches. To our little shop, off of highway 12 on Light Plant Road, the sound had no meaning for no bikers darkened our doors.

Neither the sounds of bikes passing, nor the fact no bikers came to our business bothered us. It is easy for us to understand why the bikers do not take the time to visit with us. We are a Mom and Pop business located off the main road. We do not advertise nor do we have the type of merchandise that the average biker is seeking. Our business consists of shells, nautical gifts, and homemade crafts and gifts. Regardless of the absence of Bikers at our business we are happy that the Bikers have chosen to visit our Islands annually.

We heard that in Myrtle Beach Biker week has been banned because of complaints from the citizens because of the noise. To us that is selfish on the part of the people who should be thankful for the help bikers give to the economy of the area. It is our hope that the Outer Banks will never do likewise.

The noise bikers make during the Annual Outer Banks Bike Week is a happy sound that brings back memories from eighteen years ago. That was the first year we opened our retirement hobby, The Old Gray House. One day suddenly a loud sound erupted that sounded like the walls of our old house where tumbling down. Mary and I rushed outside to see what was happening and lo and behold we were blessed with a group of bikers coming to visit with us. It was a friendly fun loving group of people, which we have found to be the case with most bikers.

I remember that day well. I had placed a huge box of shaving lotions and colognes on a table outside that had been given to me as Christmas presents by my students when I taught school. Even though I requested no presents every year students would give me bottles of cologne and shaving lotions. After all, what else can parents think of to have the kids take to a man teacher. It would have taken me five life times to use it all. Besides that when you live in a mosquito and green fly infested area it is not wise to be smelling sweet like a flower. The sign on the box said, “FREE TAKE ONE”. The box had been sitting there for weeks and no one took any. It was not that we did not have customers it was they were leary of anybody giving anything away free.

As our biker friends were getting ready to leave I said to the men, “I have what you guys really need to make your girls happy”. Then I turned to the ladies and said, “I know your girls will agree with me. After riding on those bikes all day long in the heat I imagine these guys don’t have the sweetest smell.” The gals all said, “You can say that again”. I jokingly said, “Ladies here is the solution to your problem”. I offered them my huge box of shaving lotions and colognes. It was fun to watch them divide with the ladies laughing and dobbing different smells on their men. As they went on their way it was no longer just sounds that preceded their arrival but smells as well.

Pictures I Took Of the First Bikers That Visited the Old Gray House
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Notice the Oak Tree By The Ramp Going Into The Gray House. There have been a lot of changes at the Old Gray House since the day of the visit by these bikers eighteen years ago. Raging storms and hurricanes have made a lot of changes. Lightning struck the tree three times and is no longer there. I also wonder what types of changes have occurred in this fun loving group of biker’s lives.

Not only have things changed at the Old Gray House since that day but attitudes about Bikers have changed. Years ago when you saw a group of bikers roaring down the road you conjured up pictures in your mind of a wild unruly group. You associated them with wild wicked living. Bikers in the past have been considered to be dangerous and to be avoided.

Today you will find that Bikers are some of the nicest people you will ever meet. They are average hard working family types of people. The bikes many of them ride cost more than your automobiles or even the home you live in. They are often professional people such as lawyers, doctors, teachers, business owners, and the trades. The bikers I have been associated with over the years go out of their way to be helpful.

When my daughter was married her wedding took place in the Hilton Hotel in Charlotte, N.C. while a Bikers convention was being held there. It was the bikers who helped us tote things in and out for the wedding. When it came time for picture taking a bridesmaid went into the hall and rounded up a biker to pose with my daughter for fun. The bikers also joined in when it came time to send off the Bride and Groom. It was a fun time for all of us.

Pictures of Bikers at My Daughter’s Wedding
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Since the visit by bikers that first year we opened, we have only had an occasional visit by a couple of bikers such as the one this year. Each time it is always a joyful experience. Just getting a close-up look at the bikes and talking with their owners is a pleasant experience. When I see a motorcycle I just naturally think of adventures and marvel at the many experiences bikers have to share. With gas prices the way they are today those who ride bikes are the smart ones. It is not often these days we see Bikers at the Old Gray House but when we do it is definitely a time to enjoy.

Our Most Recent Bikers to Visit the Old Gray House
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We felt honored to have Bill and Janet Bartsch from Wantage, N.J. to swing in off Highway 12 to visit with us at the Old Gray House.

Even though we at the Old Gray House will probably never be honored with a visit from those who participate in the Annual Outer Banks Bike Week we want to thank them for their annual noise that brings back fond memories to us of that first year we opened our Gift Shop.

Click Image To Logon to HarleyBay.com

Island Business that profited from the 7th. Annual Bikers Week
need to thank the following Harley Davidson Dealerships for sponsoring the event.



Sponsors

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By

Dewey Parr

It was lonely walk this morning from my house to what I called Buster’s House. Buster’s house was my garage which is about forty feet from my house. It is not the average type of garage. My son and I had remodeled it and turned it into a workshop for crafts and a hangout for my wife, Mary and I. Every morning, for seventeen, years my close friend Buster was waiting for me at the door to walk with him from my house to his house. When we arrived at his house it was his practice to scratch on the molding beside the door prior to entering. After his short scratching session we would enter his world and I would prepare his morning meal.

After I prepared Buster’s morning meal he and I did our exercises together. As I went through my morning routine Buster would lay on the floorhen I laid down to do my floor exercises he would reach a paw over and tip me and then I would scratch under his chin.

Next I would go to my computer to check my e-mail and Buster would join me. He would lay his head on the left side of my keyboard and occasionally tap the cap lock buttons causing me problems which I enjoyed. I soon learned over the years this was his way of getting my attention so I would scratch under his chin so he could go to sleep. His method of sleep was keeping one eye slightly open so he could watch my every move. When I moved he moved.

This morning it was not easy for me to go through the steps of my exercises and check my e-mail without my close friend Buster. It seemed like things were hollow or un-natural. At first I thought I would skip exercising, but then I recalled the advice that I had often given to others when I was a minister that when you loose a loved one it is important that you continue your regular routine. Buster’s body was not with me this morning but his spirit was with me every where I looked. I told myself that Buster was not really dead and he would want me to and carry on as usual. You are only dead when no one is left to remember you. As long as I am alive Buster will always be alive. I will never forget him.

With these chores finished it was time to continue on with our routine. Together we walked from his house back to my house and he went inside and crawled up on Mary’s lap while she was drinking her morning coffee. He usually fell asleep while she petted him and scratched his ears. They stayed there together until Mary began her morning.

I guess it is time I tell you Buster Gray was my feral cat. Otherwise you might be wondering who was sitting on Mary’s lap. Buster came to me the second year we opened the Old Gray House Gift Shop. Larry Bates and I were doing repairs on the Old Gray House when a cat appeared out of nowhere. The cat hung around, disappeared, and kept reappearing. Of course I did what I often told my kids not to do with stray animals. I fed him just as my ancestors had fed feral cats. I cannot stand to see anything hungry. It is a Hatteras thing. The people on the Island did not have much in the way of material things, but they always had food to share, especially fish, with anyone who came along. Fish and cats just naturally go together. Over the years I realize that feeding strays has led some to take advantage of me. I recall when I was minister in Bluefield, Va. we had a family that lived up a holler who walked the railroad tracks to their home. The mother always had a baby in arms with little children following. Mary and I went to the store on Thursday and it became a habit for the mother to be at our door with those sweet little children looking at us as she asked us for food. We did not have much to share with anybody in those days. It was all we could do to feed our own babies, but we always managed to find something to give them even though we realized that mother was taking advantage of us. We knew that same mother could find money for cigarettes and beer. We shared our food anyway. As I look back I don’t think we were none the less for having given her food for the kids. At least we felt good about it.

I felt good when I fed the feral cat that later became Buster. This cat seemed to be different than other strays I had met in the past. This one did not meow. Never did I ever hear him make sound until his last few days on earth. I realized after feeding him I had made a tactical mistake for he decided to adopt me and the Old Gray House as his home.

The first major problem I encountered with him was the minute the Gray House door opened he would dart in and run up the stairs and plop himself on Grandmother Grays old iron bed. It began to create a real problem for Mary because she was using the bed to display handmade fabric products for sale. Time after time Mary would find him snoozing away in the middle of the bed on top of her merchandise. It was amazing how he would sneak in right past her with the costumers.

Seeing the problem, I decided this cat has got to go so I decided to let him take a little ride with me when I went down the road. We took three rides together and each time he came wandering back looking at me with those big eyes. Larry laughed and said, “He has decided you are it.” It was after the third trip Larry said, “Let’s name him”. Larry started calling him Buster so I did likewise. I guess Buster knew he was working his way in now. In order to solve the problem of him getting in the middle of the bed at the Gray House I moved him over to my house.

I told Larry I really did not want to be tied down with a pet so he said he had a solution. A friend of his a hundred miles away was looking for a cat to replace his cat that had died. He wanted a cat that would be compatible with his wife’s cat. I said, “That would be great”. Larry contacted his friend and he came to Buxton to meet Buster. The friend liked Busters friendly attitude and he thought it would work out so he took Buster on one condition. The condition being if things did not work out that I would agree he could bring him back. Of course I agreed for I figured now Buster would have a good home and that would solve my problem.

Well, guess what? A week later here came Larry’s friend bringing Buster back to the Old Gray House. He said, “That is the wildest cat I have ever seen.” He chased and attacked my wife’s cat constantly. Finally my wife said, “Either that darn cat goes or you go”.

Buster is back. Larry is laughing. Mary is frantic. I am perplexed. No way is Buster going to stay over at the Gray House. With Buster gently rubbing around my legs it is decision time. I looked at Buster and said, “What am I going to do with you?” In my heart I already knew the answer. I think Buster did too.

Now here it is seventeen years later and I am reminiscing over the many hours of enjoyment Buster and I had together. There were times during those seventeen years Mary and I would look at Buster and say to ourselves who are you. Now I don’t believe in reincarnation, but if I were to do so I would be led to think Buster was the reincarnation of someone that loved Mary and I. Or he could have been a guardian angel sent to comfort us as well as protect us. He had traits that reminded Mary of her father as well as mine. His ever watchful eyes of our every move were uncanny at times. It was like he was our parents protecting and caring for the both of us.

Buster was primarily an outside cat. During the day he spent his time wandering and checking the premises that he had staked out to see if anything had crossed it. I watched him walk his boundary lines daily. When I was working in the yard or walking on my back lot he was never more than five feet from me. In the mornings when I would walk to the road to get my paper he would strut in front of me scanning the path ahead to be sure all was safe. For that reason I dubbed him my, “Secret Service Cat”. At night time Buster would stay up on the roof of my house so he could watch over the property. Many were the times you could hear him come plopping down the steps to my lower deck as he ran down to drive away any intruder such as mice, snakes, deer and raccoons. Buster did not seem to known the word fear.

Whenever Mary and I would leave the property he would plant himself near our drive way waiting for our return. If either one of us was away he would not rest until we returned. No matter how late we would be out at night he was there waiting for our return. When we started down our drive you would see Buster running to greet us as we stepped out of the car.

Two of the many memories I recall of Buster I found very unusual. My son and I, with a group of friends, were working on an addition to my house and my son’s dog kept leaving our property. My son would scold his dog for doing so in the presence of Buster. The dog paid little attention to my son, but he started encountering trouble every time he left our property. Buster would follow him and chase him back. We all watched this over and over in amazement. It was this same time another strange thing occurred in regard to Buster. My daughter who lived away had a cat that died and her heart was tender over the loss. She came home to visit with us. The day she arrived here came Buster bringing a kitten. This was very unusual for a male cat seldom tends to kittens. I had noticed Buster disappearing from time to time. What he had been doing is tending to this little female kitten that was probably from a litter that he had fathered. My daughter took one look at the little kitten and that was all it took. The kitten became known as Hattie, short for Hatteras. Hattie, who is the spitting image of Buster, now resides happily in Charlotte, NC with my daughter.

Over the years I have heard many speak of the nine lives of a cat. If there is such a thing, Buster used his up many times over. Time after time he came limping in from the battles he had engaged in with some animal. Mary would watch me treat his wounds in amazement that he would allow me to do so even though it was painful for him. Never did he ever offer to scratch or snarl at me as I did so. It was due to two of his older wounds that led to his final demise.

A snake bit him right above his eye. It became infected and I would clean it out every day and apply ointment until it healed. As time went by his eye began to cloud and it was apparent that he was losing the sight in the eye. In no way did this deter Buster from continuing on with his protective services to our family. Toward the end of his life he encountered another bite only this time it was near his other eye. This finally led to him being totally blind. Even in that state Buster carried on. Being a male cat he depended on the scent he created to mark his trail. If you have never known what it is like to be without sight it is probably hard for you to realize that those who become blind find ways to adapt to their situation. Having been in a similar situation as Buster for three years of my life I learned to appreciate Buster’s circumstances. I related to Buster and he related to me. For a period of time, especially after a hard rain that would remove his scented trails, I had to direct Buster to the door of his house and his food.

As I watched Buster through these hard times I recalled how he watched over Mary and me. When we had physical problems and returned home from the hospital Buster seemed to sense our needs. He stayed even closer to us than before. It was during these times that he would snuggle up to us as if he was attempting to comfort us.

Is there a Heaven for animals and Buster to go too? I do not have the answer for that. Buster is gone, but he is not dead. For you see in Mary’s and my heart he will always be alive.

My Buddy Buster

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By

Dewey Parr

I remember the good-ole-days on Hatteras when every stranger that came down the sand road was a welcome guest in our house. The word stranger was not a word that carried any connation of fear with it. Strangers were viewed as someone that brought us information from the outside world. Today children are told over and over to beware of strangers. As an Island kid I never feared a stranger. Strangers brought excitement and fun to my life.

Hatteras, at that time, was a world to itself. It was as if our customs and way of life had been frozen in time since the days of our forefathers. The rest of the world was racing as fast as it could go to be a part of an industrialized society and here we sat happy with our slow-paced way of life. Yes, I remember well hearing my father say, "Welcome stranger. Come on in. Supper time is coming soon and we would love to have you put your feet under our table and eat a bite with us."

As an adult today I still enjoy meeting and greeting strangers. Granted the times we live in call for being careful not to be taken in by strangers, but it still does not interfere with meeting and greeting new people. My joy in my retirement years at the Old Gray House Gift Shop has been greeting strangers and then watching the stranger become a Friend. It is an entirely different relationship when you say, Welcome Friend.

In our business we have people that never get out of the category of being strangers. These are people who think Islanders are naive and try to take advantage of us or steal stuff from us. Not long ago Mary and I had a stranger visit our home that turned out to be one of the most unwelcome guests that ever entered our home. This stranger turned our lives upside down and we are just now putting the pieces back together. This stranger is called Cancer.

Cancer is the unwelcome visitor that I hope and pray never enters your home. You need to do everything possible to keep this stranger from coming to your house. There are some things you can do to help prevent him from visiting you such as annual physical exams, a proper diet, rest and exercise. Even so you still can not prevent him from entering your life for he will even enter your home when you least expect him. Some times he announces his arrival by little signs such as a sudden loss of weight or a little inflamed or changes in the appearance of mole on your body. Other times the only way he can be detected is through x-rays, body scans or other tests. This is why it is ever so important that men and women have yearly checks ups. Early detection is the difference between life and death.

Probably the most nerve racking portion about Cancer's arrival is when it is suspected this unwelcome guest is on the horizon. When the Dr. is suspicions he will begin to order additional tests. This can be a trying time for the family as well as yourself. The waiting and wondering can be a traumatic period for all concerned. Restless nights, longs days of wondering what will be, can wear everyone down.

Once the news gets out to family and friends that there is a possibility that Cancer might make a visit to your house it becomes story time and a renewed awareness of how many people have been visited by Cancer. Seems everyone has a story to tell about others who were visited by Cancer and how they came out after his visit. Every time you pick up the paper it seems like the headlines are screaming at you about the many victims of cancer. You cannot help but notice that Cancer is not a respecter of persons. He claims the lives of the famous, rich and poor. It seems like waiting to get the final word of cancer's arrival goes on forever. Surely there must be a way to shorten the time period between suspicion of cancers visit and the diagnosis that he has entered your life.

At the time the unwelcome guest visited our home the tourist season on Hatteras Island was well under way and our little shop, Old Gray House Gifts, was in full swing. When the Doctor gave us the final report I remember how hectic it was for Mary and me. Being an understanding person he took the time to go over all the alternatives concerning the surgery before us and left the final decision to us. Those couple of days before we where to give him our final decision were even more traumatic than all the other things that had preceded the final diagnosis. Not fully understanding about this unwelcome visitor I sought any information available. We listened to friends who had similar problems and I contacted the American Cancer Society who provided me ample information concerning the particular type of cancer we were dealing with. They talked with me at length and sent me helpful literature. With their help we made our decision. I say we because when you are dealing with this unwelcome visitor it becomes a family matter.

Prior to scheduling surgery our doctor discussed with me our situation with our little shop and it was his opinion that we should not close but keep it intact. From what he said to me, I concluded that the greatest weapon one has against the unwelcome visitor is to continue living a normal active, positive life. After the surgery I continued running the shop until Mary was able to return. As you know our shop is different from others in that over the years those who have visited with us have become friends. They all wanted to know, "Where is Mary"? Their genuine concern led to some of the most amazing and revealing stories I had ever heard. They shared with me how the unwelcome visitor had visited to their homes and how they had defeated his attempts to steal away happy lives. Some of the ladies in particular, with tears in their eyes, related to me how cancer had led to divorce. Each evening I came away from the Old Gray House with joy in my heart for those that had defeated Cancer, and tears in my eyes for those whose happy marriages had been destroyed as a result of his visit.

When dealing with Cancer surgery is not the final solution. There are many emotional aspects after surgery. The type of follow up that takes place to prevent a reoccurrence of the cancer, and the downsides of the treatments, such as chemo, radiation, and medication are in themselves problems that have to be continued for years.

What a happy day it was for me when Mary was able to return back to the counter at the Old Gray House. There is no doubt in my mind that the following advice given to me by our doctor, friends, and the American Cancer society in particular is the right way to go in dealing with the unwelcome visitor

Accept the reality of cancer and don't hide from it. Openly talk about it and don't isolate yourself or feel like a freak. Bald is Beautiful

Support and participate with Support Groups such as the American Cancer Society. Hopefully in time a cure will be found to keep the Unwelcome Visitor Away.

Be Positive. Enjoy every day to its fullest attempting to squeeze out as much enjoyment as possible. Be willing to laugh at yourself and with others.

Decide, no matter what, you will not let the Unwelcome Visitor disrupt your life and those around you. Be a Survivor and be proud to share it with others.

A good example of all of these ideas I gleaned from the guests at the Old Gray House, and with the professional advice I received, is that of one of our crafters, Jeff, who is a cancer survivor. Jeff sent me this e-mail that I would like to encourage you to read and then check out his page on the American Cancer's Society Relay for Life. Click Here for Jeff's story.

Hello All,
Just wanted to let you all know that I will be participating in the American Cancer Society Relay For Life coming up on May 8th. I wanted to send you the link to my personal Relay page and hope that you may consider supporting not only my team, but all of those still fighting their own battles. I am truly blessed to be able to say I am 2 years, 6 Months, 1 Week, 6 Days Cancer Free. I am hoping that in some way my participation in the Relay for Life will help others be able to one day say they are cancer free.

Thank you all..... Jeff

What can you do to help destroy the Unwelcome Visitor? Find someone in your community like Jeff and Help them. If you have no one then I know Jeff would appreciate your help in fighting cancer by sending your support, in his name, to the American Cancer Society.

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The Old Gray House Covered in Snow
A White Christmas is a Rare Thing On Hatteras Island
Snow like this one is very unusual.
Picture taken by Old Gray House Friend Charlotte Rooney

Wow, what a year this has been for me, my family, and many families of Hatteras Island and all of America. On Hatteras we have suffered a double dose of economic woes, not only due to the nationwide problems, but the heartless efforts of the Audubon Society and the Defenders of Wildlife to shut down our beaches.

Ocracoke and Hatteras businesses have suffered tremendous losses. In my immediate family, due to the economy, my son, daughter and her husband, and my grandson have faced unemployment problems. Things have been bad for the majority of the working people in America. Those who have jobs are worried that they will be next to be laid off. As I look around I see families loosing their homes and moving in with other family members who still have their heads above water. Yes, these are bad times , but in some ways they are good times.

Christmas At the Old Gray House 2008 Hard Times Can Be Good Times
Mary holding quilt rack designed by our daughter and built by our son-in-law Howard.

We learned early-on the rules of the island. You did not bother the other person's property, such as boats, nets, or oyster beds. The code of the island was ingrained in all of us at an early age. We were taught to respect one another and to accept all people for what they were and not what they had, and most of all to keep our mouth shut about the other person's business. There was no class system, for we were all in the same boat.

The good is, that in many ways, this has brought families closer together and made us all realize what is really important in life. It has made us aware that things or possessions are not what it is all about. Our possessions are here today and gone tomorrow. We brought nothing into this world and we will carry nothing out. I can recall when Mary and I first got married we could not rub two nickels together, yet we were happy. When our children came along we still had nothing yet our children lived happy, normal lives. I guess our treasures back then were just the joy of being together and sharing our time with each other. When Christmas came our presents to each other where usually composed of things we made with our own two hands.

Christmas At the Old Gray House 2008 Hard Times Can Be Good Times
Christmas At the Old Gray House 2008 Hard Times Can Be Good Times
Our son Dewey is working on the wall for the entertainment center that was built by our son-in-law Howard. The Checker table built by our son-in-law Howard.

I remember growing up on Hatteras during the Great Depression of the 30’s that my Christmas presents were all handmade objects with the exception of a bag of fruit and hard candy they gave us after the Christmas program at the Buxton Methodist Church. Some adults talked about the fact the country was in a Depression but on Hatteras nobody really knew much about it. Things stayed the same year after year. Guess it was because nobody had much of anything to start with.

As time went on, and we became more affluent, we began buying things for each other rather than making them. This year, for the first time in a long time, we received handmade gifts. In my family I am blessed with a daughter who is a great planner, and a son and son-in-law who are gifted when it comes to wood crafting.

Thanks to the hard times our country is facing this has probably been the best Christmas Mary and I have had in a long time. Our son-in-law donated his labor to build us an entertainment center. Our daughter Marilyn, designed a quilt rack for him to build for Mary’s quilts. She also designed a special game table to sit under the oak tree at the Old Gray House for the enjoyment of the guests who visit us to play checkers. Our son not only gave us useful, meaningful gifts but donated his time to help complete our family entertainment area. The things they did for us this year reminded me of those joyful times I spent each year making thing with my own hands for those I loved at Christmas. I have instructed my kids if they feel they must give me something for Christmas I preferred they make something , or donate their time to a special project

My heart bleeds for the people who, through no fault of their own, are suffering as a result of the poor planning of our government, greed in our financial markets, and the cruel efforts of the Audubon Society and The Defenders of Wildlife. I realize that many have lost their jobs. Others will loose all of their assets. Hopefully that even in their losses they might find some form of a blessing.

You’ll come play checkers under the Old Oak Tree.

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by dewey parr

Picture of Snow in Ohio
Two Husbands View of Quilting

Visiting with my friends Clarence and Pat in Columbiana, Ohio this winter made me realize the true significance of what making quilts is all about. For two weeks my wife and Pat pieced quilts. Everything they did centered around quilt making. They finally finished piecing five quilts they had been working on together for three years. After completing them they vowed never to start another one like it Each block was different and it was a real challenge.

Picture of the Never Again Quilt This is a picture of the five Identical quilts of the Bible Block Quilts they worked on for Three Years

They attended the ladies quilting group at the church and they went with the quilting group to the public library for a demonstration of a new computerized machine that takes the toil out of cutting quilt pieces. All you do is choose your design, place your fabric on the cutting plate, and it automatically cuts up to 180 pieces all at once depending on the pattern chosen. To say the least they were excited about this new innovation. Even with this new machine however, true quilt making is still a long, tedious effort. Click Here to see this amazing quilt block cutter.

Prior to my visit in Columbiana , Ohio Mary and I had visited with our friends the Smoots in Huntington, West Virginia. You will never guess what was the main topic of the day discussed by Mary and Penny. You guess it quilts and fabric. Pat, Penny, and Mary have a slogan, "She Who Dies With The Most Fabric Wins". No matter where we go some where along the line there will be a mention of quilts. When we are traveling if there is a quilt shop or fabric shop along the road my car has been programmed to stop in front of it.

Now mind you, I have always been associated with quilting but I never really paid much attention to it. But for some reason, I guess because my buddy Clarence and I were confined due to the weather (below zero and snow covered roads), in the house with our quilting wives, we could not help but notice how important making quilts is to them. A couple of years ago they talked Clarence and I into going on a quilt cruise with them in the Eastern Caribbean aboard a luxury liner. Because we love them so much we made the sacrifice. They attended quilt classes all day and we had nothing to do but to use the steam room, sauna, hot tub, exercise room, and sit around the pool. Did I forget to mention eat and go to shows. It was a hard sacrifice to make but we were willing to do it so they could learn more about how to make quilts. We realized it is not just a hobby with them, but an infectious disease that seems to spread to their kind. We found this poster posted outside a door that describes our wives ailments. It is called Quilt Pox. Clarence and I have decided we need to post it outside our homes as a warning to keep other men's wives from becoming infected with this costly disease.

for Quilt Pox Poster

Clarence and I thought back to our first real experience with quilts as kids. Clarence said, where he grew up in Washington Courthouse, Ohio every house had homemade quilts. On Hatteras Island I slept under handmade quilts. Now these quilts were not like the ones made overseas that you can buy in stores for $19.95. These were quilts that every inch was hand stitched by a member of the family. Often the material was scraps available from old clothing, not even lined , while others were lined with feed sacks. They were not always colorful like they are today but they were a welcome addition to your bed on a cold winter night when the winds were howling . As we reminisced about our early days we concluded what lucky kids we were to have a homemade quilt to snuggle under. I still have the last quilt my mother made, completely pieced and quilted with loving hands for our family. This is one of my treasured keepsakes.

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Watching Pat and Mary making quilts in the setting of a winter wonderland has really made me think a lot about what kind of people make quilts and what is it that motivates them to continually do so. It seems everywhere you go are there who make quilts. As I reflect back on my days as a young minister, prior to launching my second career in the field of education, I met many who quilted and they all possessed similar traits. I recall many quilts I saw while serving as a country preacher on the ridges of Kentucky and the hollers of West Virginia. There was big difference between the two areas but one thing they had in common was that the art of quilting.

When I walked the ridges of Kentucky it seemed like each house where I stopped the women folks were engaged in making quilts. The particular town I lived in at that time was like a hub on a wagon wheel and the ridges extended out into the country like the spokes on a wheel. Each Ridge was on a telephone party line and when I left one house, headed for the next, the lady of the house was waiting for me, not only with food, but a display of her quilts to show me. I learned very quickly to start my ridge-walking on an empty stomach. Kentucky women love to feed the preacher.

When I got to the mountains of Virginia things were not much different except rather than ridges I walked in the hollers. The main difference between holler-walking and ridge-walking was that most of the time those that had more means seemed to live at the bottom of the holler and those with less lived at the top. Nevertheless, quilts were a prominent part of each home and they always seem to know the preacher was coming. Even if they did not have a phone, food and quilts were waiting .

What really got me to thinking about what making quilts means was observing a sweet little lady who lived at the beginning of one of the hollers. I was in her home often. She had a large family with many grandchildren and great grandchildren. It was her goal to hand make a quilt for each of them. Seemed like she would just complete her task when along would come another baby in the family. While working on a quilt for her new great grand child she became very ill. It was determined that she was terminal and had little time to live. I visited with her often during that time and always she was working diligently on that final quilt. It was her goal to finish before she died. Finally, the quilt was finished, and within a week the Good Lord called her home. Over the years I have lost contact with that family, but I wonder how many still have, and cherish, the quilt that was made for them. Could it be some of them do not truly understand the significance of the quilt they received and are like a young man I saw working on his car. He was laying under the car on a quilt that had grease on it. I cannot help but wonder if it was a quilt his family had made for him. It is doubtful that he fully understood how many hours went into producing that quilt just for him.

Thinking about this has made me realize that all who make quilts have certain traits about them that are common. They want to share their love. They want life to be cozy and comfortable for the whole world. When you are given a quilt, made especially for you by someone, you are the recipient of their love. It is not just love you are given, but a true work of art.

We all admire the work of artists who paint beautiful pictures on a canvas. When we view their works we are often left in awe at their creative abilities. People pay thousands of dollars for a single painting. When we view quilts we are also looking at the work of a talented artist. The medium used is not oil and paint. It is fabric. Quilt makers take pieces of cloth and blend them together just as an artist does paint on a canvas. Each little piece of cloth is carefully selected to compliment the surrounding pieces. Some of these pieces of cloth have a history in themselves. Many are gifts from friends. Often they are pieces of material that came from clothing , or fabrics, that are reminiscent of family members. Those who quilt are masters at coordinating colors. Some times their search for these tiny pieces of cloth might entail collecting for years before they assemble them into a quilt. An artist might complete his picture in a day or a week whereas a quilt maker picture might be years before it is completed.

If you had waited in as many fabric shops as Clarence and I have over the years you learn that fabrics represent many people and geographical areas. It would be fun to trace the origin of each piece of material used in a completed quilt. Also, don’t forget to include the hours patient husbands waited inside and outside fabric shops to bring about the completion of a quilt.

People who quilt are caring people. They look around them and see all the suffering in this old world and want to make things better for others. They use their talents to produce quilts to send to the less fortunate letting them know someone cares for them. Often they freely give their quilts to others helping someone get back on their feet. A good example of this is the ladies that meet weekly at the Anglers Club in Buxton who make quilts to send to the hospitals to cheer up the patients. This same group of ladies produce quilts to be raffled off to raise money for scholarships for our young people graduating from high school. It is because of their efforts many young people on the Island have had an opportunity to obtain an education. These ladies are like those who produce handmade quilts for others all over the world. They ask nothing in return for all the good things they do. Their reward is knowing they have helped someone.

These are pictures of queen-sized quilts made by the Hatteras Island Quilt
Guild for the Cape Hatteras Anglers Club Scholarship Fund to benefit our
community high school graduates. Members of the Guild raffled off each year
a quilt with chances of $1.00 each or 6 for $5.00. Each year their quilt provides a $2,000.00 scholarship to a deserving student to the college or university of their choice.

Hatteras Island Quilt Guild Pictures Supplied by members. More pictures might be coming
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2009 Raffle Quilt made by Hatteras Island Quilt Guild Proceeds go to provide scholarships for Island Students.
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After having lived with a quilt makers all of our married lives, Clarence and I have made an observation that many who quilt have over looked. The majority of those who quilt make a personal quilt for every member of their family except one. That one being their husband. I know their excuse is that the quilts they make are for both of our use. It is true on our beds we have beautiful quilts that our wives have produced, but as of yet neither of us have that personal quilt that was just produced just for us. Even little Linus in the cartoons had his own little security blanket that was his and his alone. Ladies don’t you think it is time you make that man who loves you ,and waits patiently for you to browse, his own little security blanket.

Note To Our Readers : If you have a favorite picture of a quilt or a quilt block that you would like to share we would appreciate you sending to us so we can display it. Please provide us with your state and city. It is not our policy to put full names or address. Click Here to e-mail your quilt pcitures

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By Dewey Parr

What are the two types of exercise you will find on your visit to Hatteras Island?

When you think of your Hatteras exercise experience you need to think of fun exercise and programmed exercise. Both can be free of charge or you can purchase them. We have an excellent health fitness center know as the Spa Koru (Click Here) for exercise idea's as well as other activities sponsored by the County.

The Dare County Fessenden Center Offers
An Abundance of Exercise Programs

When you are at the beach you are surrounded by fun activities that call for using those muscles that have been lying idle all winter. It is definitely fun in the sun. It is the programmed exercise that most do not practice on regular bases that makes the difference. These exercises are designed to keep you healthy and in-shape year around. We have had many incidents of people coming to the Island who are not used to exercising regularly and overdo it in their fun activities. Not only have they injured their bodies but died from over exertion. Just as the ocean can fool you so can over exercising. You can get carried away not only by the ocean currents but also by over exerting your body without realizing it. Be careful but have fun. After all, that is why you are here.

Hatteras Fun
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Hatteras Fun Exercise

Now let’s talk about programmed exercise, which is designed to reach specific core muscles and promote healthy bodies. To better understand the goal of an exercise program you need to familiarize yourself with a muscle chart. When you look at it you become aware you are nothing more than a rack of bones held together by a mass of muscles and ligaments. Closer scrutiny will cause you to realize that when these muscles and ligaments are not working properly the bones do not function properly. Programmed exercise is designed to strengthen specific muscles. It helps to lubricate the joints, strengthens the tendons, and keeps the organs working in harmony with the total body. Enough said, so let’s move on to establishing a personal exercise program.

Are You Willing To Accept The Facts?

America is overweight. We are stewing in our own juices. Our young people are not getting enough exercise. If you want to live longer you had better start eating right and exercise. Our number one health problem in America is obesity. On and on it goes. Every time you turn on the TV, everyone has an immediate solution. Try my special pill, diet program, and newly designed exercise machine and life will be wonderful again. Your better half or girl and boy friend won’t be able to keep their hands off you. Look at these examples and listen to these testimonials. I went from 240 pound to l20 pounds in 60 days. It will only cost you two payments of $29.95 or $14.95 plus shipping. “Buy one bottle of my magic elixir, or pills, and I will give you two for the price of one.” “Purchase this special machine or the latest gadget that will make you look like a Hollywood model or acquire the bulging muscles of a wrestler and you will get a 90-day money back guarantee.” The only guarantee they can offer you is that you will definitely loose something, your money.

Who Did This To Me?

There is no quick fix for the obesity problem. You do not overcome years and years of bad eating and exercise habits overnight. To right the wrong of what we have done to ourselves we first of all have to admit we are the guilty party that created the problem. It is not the fault of our mothers who are credited with cramming food down our throats or the fast food places. It is our own fault. We did it to ourselves. We and we alone must correct the problem. The beginning place for solving the problem is accepting the fact I did it and only I can solve it. Once we do that we are on our way to recovery.

Why Am I The Way I Am?

We have to come to the realization that the way we live today is entirely different from the way we lived yesterday. On Hatteras it was work from Sun-up to Sun-down day in and out. Everywhere we went we walked. We had no need for treadmills to simulate walking up inclines. When you walk in the sand it is double the stress you put on your muscles. We did not have the luxury of paved roads for cars. Our life was centered on the Beach and the Sound that provided us with plenty of fresh air and exercise. Our diet consisted primarily of fresh seafood, fowl, and garden fresh vegetables. Our foods where not wrapped in plastic, snap open cans, or boxes with labels telling the ingredients that we cannot pronounce.

What goes around comes around. The Hatteras Diet and Exercise Program is the same thing that is being advocated today. All these advertised programs are nothing new. The diets are things that every Hatteras Island mother practiced daily when she prepared a meal for her family. The only difference is it is being printed in a book or on a CD and being sold under many different names. It is nothing more than the marketing of common sense things we already know. It has been turned it into a billion dollar industry to line someone’s pocket. The process that burns off fat is just like the same process that consumes fuel in our automobiles. You put the fuel, (food - calories) inside and then you drive or run it off (exercise). When the tank gets empty you put more in. The problem is there is, not enough running it off and it is seldom anyone’s tank gets empty.

This picture was taken in 1945 of Hatteras Mothers holding fresh fish they selected from the Hatteras village docks to prepare the evening meal. Fresh fish, shellfish, poultry, fruit and vegetables was a regular part of the daily diet of Hatteras Islanders over the years. They call it the Mediterranean diet today.

Why are our children overweight, suffering high blood pressure, stress, diabetes, and other ailments that where unheard of before. In the early history of Hatteras the children were active participants in helping the family with the daily chores. They were not objects to be spoiled rotten, showered with toys, and stuffed with food. They spent their leisure time outside playing. Now you find them curled up on a couch snacking on fat foods in front of a television or playing computer games all hours of the night. The parent who takes the attitude, “I want to spare my child from having to work like I did” by giving them everything they can is creating problems for their child. In the words of a friend these parents are enablers. They enable their kids to be obese.

Throw out your books on parenting and take command of your household and let the kids know who rules the roost at your house. Teach your kids about the real world by giving them chores to do that will help burn off the fat. Limit the television watching and computer games and put their little butts outside to run and play like Hatteras kids did in the past. Encourage them to participate in organized sports activities. Not only will they not get fat, they will be free from stress and be healthier and respect you more.

We definitely need to recognize we are the way we are because ours is no longer a survival economy. In a survival economy you get plenty of exercise and you burn the calories off. If you didn’t work you didn’t eat.

Is It Too Late For Me?

No it is never too late regardless of your age or physical handicaps. So you stripped down and looked in the mirror and you where shocked at what you saw. After looking closely at yourself you probably said, “There is no hope for me.” Keep this picture in your mind. I guarantee you once you begin to be serious about exercise and diet you will see an entirely different image of yourself. Not only will you look better but also you will feel better about yourself. In the first place you should never exercise with the thought in mind it will make me look better or more desirable, but that it will make me healthier and feel better. It is not looks you are after. It is better health. I have a friend when he is asked why he exercises so much he says, “I do it so that when I am lying in my casket, they will say, Oh! Doesn’t he look good” rather than “Didn’t they do a good job on him”. I am 77 and didn’t start serious exercise until I was 73. Believe you me, there isn’t much exercise can do to help my looks at this age. I consider myself doing well, if I can just keep what I have working. When it comes to exercising the body muscles, the old saying applies, “If you don’t use it you loose it.

What Can I Do About It?

No it is never too late regardless of your age or physical handicaps. So you stripped down and looked in the mirror and you where shocked at what you saw. After looking closely at yourself you probably said, “There is no hope for me.” Keep this picture in your mind. I guarantee you once you begin to be serious about exercise and diet you will see an entirely different image of yourself. Not only will you look better but also you will feel better about yourself. In the first place you should never exercise with the thought in mind it will make me look better or more desirable, but that it will make me healthier and feel better. It is not looks you are after. It is better health. I have a friend when he is asked why he exercises so much he says, “I do it so that when I am lying in my casket, they will say, Oh! Doesn’t he look good” rather than “Didn’t they do a good job on him”. I am 77 and didn’t start serious exercise until I was 73. Believe you me, there isn’t much exercise can do to help my looks at this age. I consider myself doing well, if I can just keep what I have working. When it comes to exercising the body muscles, the old saying applies, “If you don’t use it you loose it.

When and Where Do I Exercise

One of the biggest obstacles for some is how to work it into their busy schedule. Take time to decide what time is best for you. Make up your mind from the beginning that you will do your exercise at a set time for a set number of days each week. Don’t hesitate to let others know this is your personal exercise time at a work out center or at home. Approach this special time like it is an appointment you made to a Dr’s office that you are obligated to keep. If you do this you will find that should you skip a day you will feel like something is missing.

My exercise is a six-day home-based program. I have designated a specific place in my home. I exercise early morning before the rest of the family or visiting friends get moving. If I have pressing plans for a particular day and it requires getting up earlier than usual I do it. My exercise takes precedence over all other plans. My family now has come to realize that I am serious about my exercise and they do not disturb me or put demands on me during this special time. I go to my designated area and it is understood I am not to be disturbed. When I am traveling my exercise program goes with me.

I have an advantage that you might not have. Weather permitting; I move my exercise area to the beach. If you live on Hatteras Island you are only minutes from the beach. There is nothing like doing your exercise in the early morning just after the sunrise along the oceans edge. After you do the programmed portion of your exercise you can walk the beach instead of a treadmill. When you finish this you have the ocean in front of you for a morning swim. During my morning swim I have an exercise program I like to do in the water. I float and kick my legs 100 times without sinking. Then I do 100 arms rolls without sinking. Try it. It is harder than you think. There is absolutely nothing more refreshing that exercising on the beach. Once you come to Hatteras and try it for a week you will go away a new person and long to come back.

My wife still gets a kick out of reminding me about my floating antics while she was sitting on the beach watching me. There are not a lot of things I cannot do, but I can float. Guess it is because I am hollow inside including my head. Living at the beach before boogie and surfboards I naturally learned to float. I did what most kids did back then. I did body boarding. Our bodies were our surfboards. I love to float to face the incoming waves feet first and float up to the top of them right before they crash. I never paid much attention to this being anything unusual until a large group of Japanese tourist came out on the beach and spotted me doing it. They were all pointing and clapping, laughing and chatting in Japanese as they ran back forth on the beach watching me. It was nice for me to know my floating skills brought so much enjoyment to so many people that day.

How Much Time Must I Devote To A Exercise Program

The amount of time required depends on how much time you can spare. If it is a home based program you can do it in 30 minutes. If you only have 15 minute to spare that is better than nothing. If you go to a workout center you will need an hour or more plus travel time. The old excuse, “I don’t have enough time to do it”, is nothing more than a flimsily excuse for the fact that you don’t want to do it. When you take that attitude my suggestion is forgetting it and continue on the way you are going, but don’t gripe about being overweight or not having the energy to do anything. No one wants to hear you complain about something you could correct but are not willing to do anything about it.

What Kind Of Exercises Should I Do?

The type of exercise program should depend on your age and health. I am older with health problems so it would be ridiculous for me to attempt to do the exercise of twenty year old in good health. You need to start very slow. Otherwise you will become discouraged from the beginning. The best way is get professional help to set you up a program you can handle. If you don’t want to pay a trainer then talk with friends that you know who exercises daily and ask what type of program they would suggest for you. They might even suggest you exercise together. It is much easier if you have someone to share your exercise experience with. You learn from each other.

I have a friend I visit every year that is a member of a workout center. As a gift to me, he arranged for me to go with him. Not being familiar with a workout center, I was reluctant to go. Being a “paid for gift” I went with him. After I got there I saw people of all ages. People my age, including one ninety year old, were exercising. This made me felt more at ease. The younger set paid little attention to me in my feeble fumbling with the exercise machines. As my friend took the time to introduce me to a few here and there I realized nobody was here to watch the other person but here to help one another achieve the same goal of having a healthy life. In the three years I have been visiting this particular center I have found that those who work out on a daily basis are bound together with a common interest. While there I became familiar with all of the machines and how they are geared to reach specific core muscles. I also picked up new ideas to add to my home-based program. It is because of my friend, and the attitude of those in his workout center that I became serious about engaging in a regular daily exercise program.

The next year when I came to visit he arranged for me to have a teaching session with the owner, Jerry De Jane who is a professional trainer. The first thing Jerry did was to find out what my health problems were and what kind of daily exercise I was getting. He took into consideration my age and health problems including the areas on my body where “Arthur” had inflicted me. You know who I am talking about. If you are over fifty I know you have met “Arthur Ritis”. After evaluating my needs, he came up with a simple six-day homebased program consisting of upper body one day and lower body the next day. He cautioned me to begin slow and gradually increase to more strenuous exercise. It takes approximately thirty to forty-five minutes per day and the only cost to me was purchasing two barbells, a 50-inch inflatable ball and a couple stretch bands. If cost is a problem you can do the program without purchasing anything. With the help of my friend and my annual visit to Jerry’s Work Out Center, I have added new ideas to my program. By doing this the routines do not become boring but more exciting. You learn as you go along there are many different ways to accomplish the same goals. If interested in my simple little program, visit me at the Old Gray House and I will be glad to share it with you.

This is a picture of my friend who started a personal workout program at age 72. He went from 198 pounds to 158 pounds. This picture appeared in a publication telling of the changes in his life that are a result of going to Jerry DeJane’s Work Out Center in Columbiana, Ohio.

Over the years I have a lot of gifts given to me, but none any nicer that the one my friend gave me when he introduced me to the world of working out. From experience he realized what this could mean to me as well as my family. For me to remain in good health and live longer not only would benefit me but my whole family as well. What my friend did for me with his gift has not only enriched my life by making me feel better but will add years to my life.

What Are the Benefits Of Walking?

Any good exercise program has a walking session included. Jerry advocated I walk at least a mile per day. The purpose of the walking accompanied with the lower body exercises is to aide circulation, burn off calories, and to prevent the old age shuffle. When you watch old-people walk many of them shuffle their feet as if they were glued to the floor. The Hatteras Exercise program has an added benefit that you probably will not have. It includes a mile-a-day walk on the beach. That is a steady pace for twenty minutes. When you walk our beach for twenty minutes, and inhale and exhale the fresh air, it will invigorate you beyond belief. The major problem is that you just don’t want to leave the beach. I end up getting additional exercise by strolling the beach, and bending, and stooping over to pick up shells.

Is Diet Part Of The Exercise Program?

Of course it is. Surely you didn’t think you could continue eating all that fat food every night before you go to bed, and expect to get any results? You know, without having to contact a dietician, what to eat and how much. You have to start your day with a good breakfast. Breakfast is the number one meal of the day. This is the meal that sets the tone for the whole day. You have been lying in bed for eight hours or more and your body has absorbed what you dumped in your stomach before you went to bed. This is why you need to avoid eating anything after your evening meal, such as ice cream, chips and dip, and so forth. It will go to fat and flab. Early in the morning your whole body is in need of nourishment and your brain says feed me. I taught school for years and I could detect which children in my class did not eat a good breakfast. Their brains acted like a wind-up-clock that began to run down before the morning was out. No parent should send a child off in the morning without a good breakfast. A good breakfast does not consist of donuts and coffee. You know what to eat. So do it.

My personal diet consists of a banana, cereal (Total with no sugar) and milk. Once a week I treat myself to something different. Reminds me of Johnnie. Johnnie the teacher said spell banana. Johnnie began spelling – bananananananana. Teacher said, you don’t know how to spell banana. Johnnie said, Oh! Yes I do I just don’t know when to stop. Don’t stop eating a good breakfast. Eat wholesome lunches and dinner and nothing after the evening meal.

Will It Make Me Feel Better

You bet it will. This is the only thing I can guarantee. You will not only feel better physically, but you will feel better about yourself. Before I started I had a problem with my left arm that prevented me from lifting it over my head. After the first year that problem disappeared. In the three years I have been doing this simple cost-free program I have gone from a 38-39 waist to a comfortable 36. Now I am fluctuating between 34-36. Not only do I feel better but my energy level is up. Now I don’t really look much different but I feel good. That is what it is all about.

what is the best weight for me?

I weigh myself daily and the weight factor remains constant. You need to establish bench marks when it come to loosing weight. Crash diets and medications are dangerous to your health. I did that once and it almost devastated me. My check bones were showing and my rib cage was visible. It got to the place everyone was asking me if I was ok. I asked my heart specialist what he felt was a sensible weight for me to maintain. Together we decided on an appropriated weight for my age and height. What you have to remember to take into consideration is, muscle weighs more than fat. Establish what you feel is the proper weight for yourself and try to maintain it.

How should I View My Vacation On Hatteras Island?

When you visit Hatteras you should view it as going away to world’s best health resort. I have a friend that makes an annual trip to Hatteras to visit and roam the beach with me. He views his trip to the beach as a time to get away from it all and rejuvenate his body and mind. He feels when he is at the beach he is full of life and raring to go. Willing to try anything. It is his chance to start life anew and be like a kid again even if it is only for a week. It seems to him that the ocean is calling out to him to be young again. When he goes home after being to the beach for a week he is almost in a state of depression knowing he has to go back into the real world.

Isn’t that the feeling that keeps you coming back year after year to the ocean’s edge? That’s a similar feeling I get when I go to the beach and view the marvels of the ocean. If you don’t exercise, try my suggestion of establishing a programmed exercise program for yourself. See if it doesn’t help you continue that same feeling you get when you visit the beach. So it might even hurt a little when you start working those old bones. Think no pain, no gain. I will be sitting under the old oak tree looking forward to seeing you fit and trim next year when you come back to Hatteras for a refresher course in beach fun and exercising.

Friends of The Old Gray House:  If you have any comments you can contact us at OuterBanksShells.com

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by dewey parr

Jean Hooper still lives in Salvo. She has many memories of the things we used to do. Jean has been traveling from village to village as the Island Avon Lady for 43 years.

One of the questions often asked of us by visitors to the Old Gray House is, "What do people do here for entertainment?" I have been asked that question so many times in the last few years that I have developed a return question. "What do you do back home?" Their response boils down to the same thing. We eat, sleep, get up and go to work, take care of the kids or grandkids, maintain our homes, attend church, watch movies, go shopping, play with our computers and visit with our friends.

My response is, "Guess what? We do the same things you do only more." More in the sense that everything we do is amplified because of our source of permanent entertainment, the ocean and sound. The ocean prevents us from ever having a boring moment. It molds an attitude of friendliness and togetherness among those who live near it. This friendly attitude leads us to talk to one another and just enjoy being together. Ocean people celebrate one another's successes and weep over each others heartaches. Our world on the islands is so busy that it is hard to find time to keep up with all of the activities. Like anywhere else there are those who prefer to sit home and do nothing. The difference between here and city life is a matter of choice rather than a lack of opportunity to be involved. You have to remember in a resort area like this, if nothing else, we can be entertained by merely watching the antics of people who come here and ask, "What do you do here to keep from being bored?"

Jean Hooper and I were reminiscing about the things we did on the island during our early days for entertainment. Jean, who was born in Salvo and has lived there all her life, recalls vividly what we did as teenagers. She prefixed her remarks by saying she had fun and loved every minute of living in Salvo. The major difference I noticed in her description of her Hatteras Island childhood days from today was that there was not a generation gap. The adults joined in games with the kids and the kids entertained themselves. Jean's father was William Whidbee who was born in Buxton, and her mother was born in Salvo as Melvina Gray. Jean was one of five children, two brothers and two sisters. Her home place was on the west end of Salvo across from the Methodist church. You would have to know the size of Salvo back then to appreciate Jean's comments about how much fun they had and never knew a boring day. Young and old went to the beach and played games, built bonfires, and had wiener and marshmallow roasts. There was always some type of community activity on the beach or at the Roadanthe Schoolhouse. The school was located where the community building is now. Jean attended the Rodanthe School until the eleventh grade and then they consolidated the schools to Buxton. It was located on the Dark Ridge Road, now called Light Plant Road, where the state garage is now. That was the same school I attended.

Many of the home games we played back then have long been forgotten. Still, we have fond memories of the fun times we shared. Simple yet fun games such as Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Do you remember that one? You had to repeat Ha! five times without laughing. The one who could do it the longest was the winner. Jean said Nora Herbert was the Ha! Ha! queen of Rodanthe. She always could do it the longest. There were other parlor games we all played such as "Fingers" and "Clap In, Clap Out." Remember those boy and girl games? To refresh your memory, "Fingers" was the game where a blind folded girl sat in a chair in the center of the room and held up two fingers. Then two boys were chosen to stand behind her and hold on to her fingers. She was to choose one finger and take off the blindfold and see the boy of her choice. It was then her obligation to go outside and walk around the house with the boy and come back in to face the teasing. "Clap; In, Clap Out" was similar. Chairs were placed in a circle in the middle of the room with girls standing behind them. A boy was sent out of the room and a girl's chair was designated as the chosen chair. The boy was to come in when the clapping started. He walked around the room and then chose a chair to sit in. If he got the wrong chair he was shamed out of the room and the process was repeated until he got the right chair. Now I ask you, who could be bored with such exciting times as the island kids had. Of course when all else failed we had bob-jacks, pick-up-sticks and candy boiling. As we got older we could sneak off to the "bad" boy and girl places were they had loud music and dancing, such as Buxton's Bucket of Blood, Trent's (or Frisco's) Tandy's Place or Hatteras Village's Beacon.

Photo from Standard Oil of N.J. Collection.
Photographic Archives, University of Louisville
Islanders are seen here square dancing at the Beacon
which was located in Hatteras village.

Like Jean Hooper, since my childhood days to the present I cannot ever remember having a day on the island that I was bored. Living in a beautiful area like this, where nature abounds, you find pleasure in the simple things. I recall an evening of family enjoyment that we shared while sitting on the screened porch. In the corner we spied a spider beginning to work diligently in building a web for her evening catch. We sat in amazement as we watched the spider spin that web. Not only was it an engineering feat, but it was absolutely beyond belief to see that spider swing from one corner to the other corner of the old porch. She attached and looped her web as skillful as the island fishermen tying their nets. Back and forth she swung creating a work of art that was a useful tool for catching her food. We watched the spider and shared the moments together in conversation not only about the usefulness and dangers of spiders but everyday things as well. Before we realized it the hours flew by and the evening was drawing to close. As we prepared to leave the porch to go to bed I took one last glance at the spider's completed web glistening in the moonlight. I remember how anxious I was the next morning to dash to the porch and see what the spider had caught in her web overnight.

I learned from that evening's experience to appreciate the value of spiders in eliminating pesky insects. They were similar to the members of my seafaring family. The spider was doing the same things that islanders did day in and out. They tied nets and set them out to catch fish. They hauled in their catch. They ate the fish and took what they didn't use to the local fish house to be sold for others to eat. Like the old spider, when their nets were damaged, they repaired them and reset them for the next catch. This process continued throughout the generations day after day, and year after year.

Even today when I come across a spider's web in my garden I do not destroy it. I have learned that different spiders have different designs in their webs. An interesting way to study spider webs is to sneak up on them and spray them lightly with black paint. Be careful not to kill the spider or get bitten. Slowly bring a sheet of white construction paper in contact with the web to capture your spider web picture. You can achieve different effects by altering the color paint and construction paper. If you know the species of the spider you can then compare its web with other spiders to see if there is any significant difference. I can assure you that spending an evening, as a family watching a spider spin a web will provide you with more than scientific information about spiders. It might be the beginning of a family bonding that will last a lifetime.

Dewey Parr is seen here looking at a spider along the Old Gray House Garden Path. This particular spider is known to the Islanders as the Dooms Day Spider.

Note:  If you are not familiar with the Island Legend of The Writing Spider or the Dooms Day Spider click here.

Another interesting thing we did on the island was to visit the trash dumps. The dump was a good place to meet and talk with people. As the island's population began to grow so did our trash dumps. Later on it got so that the people who come here for the summer frequented the dump as much as the locals. In fact some still do. If you needed a board you went to the dump before you went to the building supply place. To many of the islanders it was a source of entertainment as well as a way to acquire possessions they would normally never have. You have to appreciate the fact that for years collecting things that washed up on the beach was a way of life for the islanders. They did not have access to all of the supplies they had on the mainland. It was said by the members of my family that in times past many of the merchant marines who wanted to help the people on the islands would wait to throw items from their ships when they passed by the islands in hopes that they would wash up on the beaches. It was only natural that as our islands began to grow that the trash dumps became more appealing. It was a simple matter to switch from the beach to the dump. The Buxton Naval Base and the Coast Guard stations threw away a lot of things the islanders found useful.

My Uncle Kendrick Gray, (The Ghost of the Gray House), made it a habit of going to what he called Sears and Roebuck (The dump) everyday. It was amazing what he found there. Lumber, nails, paint, furniture, tools and etc. You name it, it was there. As Ken got older he was not able to lug stuff home so he would spot it (hide it in the bushes) and have me go back with him to haul it home. When he died and it took three huge flat-bed trucks to return to the dump all the lumber he had stuffed under the Old Gray House. As I look around the old house today, I still see many items that came from the Hatteras Island branch of "Sears" and the beach. In fact the row of shrubs in front of the Old Gray House came from the dump.

In the thirties most people did what their forefathers did before them. They dumped their trash on their own property. They dug deep holes and buried their trash in it and tossed a little sand on top. We didn't have much that wasn't biodegradable. Plastics didn't exist and about the only thing that didn't rot away was glass and iron. There are buried treasures of antique bottles still to be found all over the islands. As the population began to increase there were areas where people began to concentrate on dumping their trash. I remember one such location at the end of Rocky Rollison Road. It is still there today. You can approach it by boat from the Muddy Marsh Ditch. Another one I distinctly recall was the one on the beach area in the vicinity of the Park Service Headquarters. To me it was a spooky place to go. The turkey vultures were lined up in the trees watching everybody that approached the dump. You don't see any of them on the islands today, but when you have seen one you never forget it. They are big and ugly scavengers that remind you of the devil's death angels.

Times have definitely changed today from yesterday when it comes to trash removal. One summer when we were living in the Old Gray House, Mary and I could hardly wait to show our friends from Ohio who came to visit us just how modern our island had become. When Thursday trash day came we all waited early in the morning on the front porch until we heard the trash truck coming down Light Plant Road. Then we dashed out to the roadside and lined up by our new county trash can to watch the big claw come reaching out from the new trash truck to pick up our trash can and empty it and set it back down. We cheered and applauded the driver. He stopped in amazement, laughed and went on his way. I told our friends, "See what did I tell you. We are progressive on this island." We still laugh about it when we get together.

There is no doubt about it. Those who come to the islands never find time to be bored. There is always something new and different to do. Little simple things you never thought about or never had time to do at home. Ray and Clara, from New Jersey, who now reside on the island in Kinnakeet Shores shared with me the simple joy they used to get coming to the island and staying in the same cottage, year after year, at Lighthouse View Motel. Their evenings were occupied with a beach walk to the lighthouse and back, a game of cards and listening to the frogs sing.

I hope these few things we have shared with you might help in responding to someone who asks you, "What do you people do here?" You can tell them we play parlor games, go to the dump, watch spiders spin webs, caterpillars cross the road, and talk to and help one another. If you have interesting things you have done on the islands drop by and visit with me at the Old Gray House. Would love to sit under the Old Oak Tree and chat with you.

Friends of The Old Gray House:  If you have any comments you can contact us at OuterBanksShells.com

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by dewey parr

Hatteras Time - A reflection on the changing values on Hatteras and Ocracoke "What time is it?" "Do you have the time?'" These questions are asked over and over in many parts of the world. Yet, on Hatteras and Oacroke they are seldom asked.

Why is there so little emphasis on time when you come to the Islands? Could it be that when you cross over Bonner Bridge or take the ferry to Ocracoke, you enter a new and different time zone in which the values of the past remain fixed in place. Values such as taking time to be nice to people, sharing a pleasant word, accepting people for what they are, or showing a genuine interest in their well-being. There are times, I will admit, when I feel like a stuck record, spinning in the same old place when I repeat over and over answers to the questions visitors ask me. "Where did the people come from who first inhabited these islands? What do people do who live here? What did people do to make a living in the past? What kind of schools do you have? What is the plant out back that has those strange-looking berries? Where is the best place to find shells? Why are all the turtles dying? How long does it take to get to Ocracoke? What is there for me to see?" Of course, the most important question of all that is usually asked is about the best place to eat. My wife, Mary, often chuckles about the question asked her by one visitor to the Old Gray House. The woman asked, "Do those steps go upstairs?"

As I recall, in 17 years of roaming the yard of the Old Gray House and answering thousands of questions, I never have been asked, "What time is it?" Why? Could it be that visitors realize I am on "Hatteras Time."

I have a mind-set similar to that of my ancestors, who had three major times they centered their lives around: the rising sun, the sun directly overhead, and the setting sun. Really, there wasn't much need for a clock. Our watches were not on our wrists. The sun and sea governed our lives. Day in and day out, our activities remained constant. The men worked the sea and the sound from sunrise until sundown. The women kept the home fires burning morning, noon, and night. Life was tranquil and full of family happiness. The evenings were full of entertainment as family and friends gathered to share the excitement of the day. Everyone helped one another and basked in the joy of watching and helping the island children grow.

Over the years, there has been a change in the meaning of the term "Hatteras time." It seems to me that it is no longer a time for one another or to enjoy the beauty of nature. It is now a term used to describe some trades people, the majority of whom have no ancestry on theses islands. When a person says to you, "You have to understand we do things differently here" or "We are on Hatteras time," you better beware.

Now is my time to tell you about a roofer. To appreciate this story you have to understand that in a hurricane prone area there are times when everyone is in need of a roofer at the same time. Hurricanes are what keep a lot of our independent local construction people going. At one time we had an Island roofer that would tell you that he would be there to get the job done for you as quickly as possible. What he would do is be there the first day as promised. Load your roof with shingles and have his crew tear off a small section and start the job. The next day he and his crew did not show up. They were down the road starting another job with the same vain promise. By doing this he would tie up ten jobs so others could not get them. I was one of those unfortunate people who had a stack of roofing sitting on top of my house for two months. During that time he would show up with a small crew and do a little more and then off he would go. This went on and on. You could have heard me a mile away when he said to me one day, "Now you have to understand we do things different here for we are on Hatteras Time. When I finally got through with him I doubt that he used the phrase Hatteras Time as his excuse for being dishonest anymore.

I have only heard two major criticisms about living on these islands other than hurricanes. Those are mosquitoes and workers who seem to be on "Hatteras time." I hear complaint after complaint from homeowners who have people tell them they will be there to do a job and never show up. The homeowner waits and waits, re-contacts the person, only to be told once again that the worker will be there tomorrow and yet never shows up.

When it came to keeping promises the old-timers on the islands had an entirely different concept than many today. If they said, "I will be there in the morning," you could count on it. They would be at your door ready to go to work at sunrise. If they couldn't make it, they sent the kids or someone to tell you why. A promise made by an islander was a promise kept. It was important to them to keep promises. It was a matter of personal integrity. We were taught in our early childhood, through the example of our parents, that the most important thing we had was our word. Our word was our bond. There was no need for written or binding contracts back then. Our word meant something. The greatest compliment you could receive was for someone to say, "He is a man of his word."

In some areas there might well have been a need for better records of promises made by the old-timers to one another. Many a land-battle between families on these islands has been the result of promises made by ancestors that were not recorded. A lot of land deals were done by a mere handshake. That handshake and verbal agreement were as solid as any written. You could stake your life on the word of an islander. Of course, our island forefathers, never envisioned a day when land would be as valuable as it is now and people would be fighting over every inch of it. They gave land to each other, swapped it, and sold it for a little bit of nothing.

When the old islanders did measure anything, it was in yards and they used a "pacer." A "pacer" was someone in the community known for his ability to step a yard. I can vividly recall my Uncle Kendrick Gray, the last of the Gray family to live in the Old Gray House, demonstrating to me that he could pace off a piece of land to the inch. He was short, and he would raise his arms up - one in front and the other in back - and step forward, swinging his arms dramatically, pacing, and counting out loud. Each step was an accurate yard. He was a "pacer" who married a "finder" from the Spencer family of Ocracoke. You probably are not aware, as I wasn't, of the special gift bestowed some islanders, known as the "finders." I once asked Uncle Ken why he called Aunt Helen a "finder." He said she had the gift from childhood of being able to use her toes to find the biggest and best clams buried in the sand or mud on the bottom of the sound.

Things really began to change during the formation of the Cape Hatteras National Park. Park Service officials met with the islanders and led them to believe they would now have a chance to become wealthy because of their land. They also warned them to be cautious of outsiders who would attempt to acquire their land. Land suddenly became valuable and Islanders were no longer letting it go as freely as they did before. Some Islanders who in times past trusted everyone they met now became a little leery of folks whom they did not know.

I well remember the many evening conversations in the Old Gray House after meetings with the Park Service. It was said to me many times, "Sonny, all of us now have a chance to be millionaires. We need to be on the lookout for those land grabbers they told us would be coming to the Island to trick us out of our land." Suddenly, land was valuable and verbal promises made by the old-timers had little or no meaning to some families. There was a mad rush by the younger generation and outsiders to grab what they could. The old island way of a promise and a handshake was gone.

The old ways the Islanders had of doing business became a serious problem for surveyors. Landmarks began to disappear or reappear in new locations. Old roads and access ways, and even unattended family cemeteries, became problems to be solved, either in the courts or the dark of night. The island code of honesty and integrity was now under scrutiny. Through it all, the majority of the islanders remained loyal to the practices of their forefathers and honored the promises they made.

Today, a majority of islanders still believe and practice the old-fashioned concept of keeping promises made and being truthful with others. They are the people who believe that Hatteras an Ocracoke time is a time for doing unto others, as you would have them do unto you.

A friend recently said to me, "It is a shame that a few rotten apples have spoil the barrel at Hatteras when it comes being true to keeping your word." I think it is shame, that there are those on the Island whose actions dishonor the memories of our honest and upright ancestors. Never forget, actions speak louder than words

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by dewey parr

Note:   This article was written September 1998 at the time Dare County was embroiled in a controversy over which hospital group would be granted the right to build the hospital in Nags Head.

The number one concern of those who live on Hatteras Island has always been proper medical care. There was a time when many did not survive on the island simply because they could not acquire medical attention in time. A connecting bridge to the Island, paved roads, medical centers, doctors and 911 were merely a figment of someone's imagination. Prior to the paving of Highway 12, it was a tremendous effort to get anyone off the island to a hospital. I recall medical emergencies in my family when this was a problem. When I was very little my father would have died of pneumonia if he had not been a military man. They landed a Navy pontoon plane in the sound. We watched as they put him on a boat to carry him out to the plane. He was then flown to the Naval Hospital. The Island's practitioner said he had "the sweats." Sweats was an island term for many illnesses. I don't recall too many people dying of things like heart attacks, cancer, or diabetes. The talk I heard was people died from other diagnoses, such as the time Riley died. They said he died from eating a pound of cheese before he went to bed. I love cheese and every time I eat a chunk at night I wonder if it will kill me like they said it did poor ole Riley. I will never forget his wake.

They had the wake in his house the night after he passed away. Back then they buried you the next day. They didn't keep your body on ice or take you away to embalm you. We had no funeral homes or undertakers on the Island. The night of his wake we kids were all watching the adults hovering around the casket. The casket then was a fancy wood box created by one of the Islanders. Brittania, or Miss Brett as she was affectionately called, was sitting in a rocking chair facing the casket dosing off from time to time, as was her habit. They said she was always the first to arrive at a wake, and the last to leave. It was a standing joke that she slept through most of the staying-ups. Now you have to understand that a good old-fashioned sitting-up was in many ways a part of the islands entertainment. When the concept of the wake began in it was not support for the family as much as it was for the protection of the body from insects, rodents and larger animals. Later on, the wake evolved into a time to meet and greet friends as well as show sympathy to the family of the deceased. For us kids it was a time for lots of good food. Everybody that attended the sitting-up brought something good to eat. Someone needs come out with a Hatteras Island wake recipe book. Now the reason I am telling you this is that I am preparing for Miss Brittania's sitting-up story. We kids all loved Miss Britt. She was always hugging and kissing us.

We were, wide-eyed, waiting and watching Riley's homemade casket. Miss Britt was sleeping in a rocking chair directly in front of the casket, probably dreaming about Riley. Suddenly she opened her eyes from her catnap and yelled out, "He is alive! He moved!" I will never know if Riley moved. I know we kids moved, fast as lightning, out the door. Another story that my dad and Lupton Gray used to love to tell was the time that Miss Brittania fell asleep at a sitting-up and they moved her and the chair out onto the front porch. Supposedly she remained there for a long period of time only to wake up with everyone peeping out the door at her. According to her granddaughter she used to laugh about that one herself.

Whenever I pass Mr. Johnny and Miss Britt's old home place, now owned by her granddaughter, I always think of the many stories they used to tell about her. It might be of an interest to you to know that her old home has a historical significane in that it originally was in Kinnakeet (Avon). In 1901 Mr. Johnny disassembled the house and floated it by boat to Buxton. They placed it on a cart and pulled it from the sound up the landing road to where it is now. Back then it was an allday effort to get off the island. In a medical emergency your choices were very limited. It was boat, plane, or a sand road. You could go by boat across the Palmico Sound, which didn't really mean much because when you got there major medical help was as limited as it was on the island. Of course to take off by boat you had to take into consideration there could be a sudden sound squall or the boat might stall. In fact it might have been better to take your chances of recovering from your illness on the island rather than sinking into the sound. I remember well one time when Mom and I were headed for Englehart on the mail boat. We got out into the middle of the sound and the boat stalled. We bobbed around like a cork for a long time until they repaired the engine. Picture yourself, very ill, in that circumstance.

The most used means of escape from the island was the treacherous drive up the beach. I realize it is hard to visualize today what a chore it was before we had a paved road. You planned your trip up the beach according to the tides. Sometimes you had to run the wash in the event that there had been an overwash. You rode awhile. Then you got out in sand and pushed. Hopefully if all worked well you made it to Toby Tillett's wood ferry before his last run to get across the inlet. Once across the inlet you were home free as you made your way to the hard road beginning at Whalebone Junction. It was there the rack of whalebones awaited you at the intersection.

The beach ride I remember the most was the time when I had appendicitis and had to have an immediate operation. We didn't have a doctor available on the Island to tend to my little tummy. They loaded me up in a wagon and headed up the beach for the Naval Hospital in Portsmouth Virginia. After a long hard drive up the beach, with my mother hovering over me, we made it across the wood ferry past the rack of bones at whalebone Junction. We reached the paved road and were well on our way until we came to the wood bridge at Southern Shores. A storm had passed through and cut out a section of the bridge. Some way, somehow, they went through the Duck area and got me to the Portsmouth Naval Hospital. By that time my appendix had ruptured and I was as a sick little boy for awhile.

Just recently I took another ride up the beach, but that ride was a lot different from the time I had appendicitis. In the middle of the night I began to feel pressure like someone was pressing down on my chest. My fingers in my left hand were numb and there was a numbing all round my lips and a funny feeling in my body that said "Hey! Old man things are not right with you. You'd better get help quick". I did by dialing 911. Now if this had been 1930 they would have been having a wake for me and they would have probably said he died of side pleurisy. Thank God this is a new Hatteras when it comes to medical attention. A Hatteras that has around the clock emergency service that is equal to any area. With the help of our (EMS) staff I was soon on the way, strapped onto a stretcher in the back of an ambulance, for a three-hour ride to the Albemarle Hospital in Elizabeth City. This time I didn't have my mother hovering over me. I had a trained technician by the name of Rita ready to administer whatever emergency measure needed to keep my heart ticking. Hope you never have to take this ride but I will tell you the EMS workers are probably the most pleasant and accommodating people you will ever meet.

In many case it is necessary to transport you by helicopter. Those who have had this experience tell me it is a much more pleasant ride than the ambulance. The people of Dare County need to consider themselves really fortunate. According to Skeeter, Dare County Public Safety Director, ambulance service is provided free for every resident of the county, and the helicopter is free to residents and nonresidents. You are asked to sign your name giving them the right to collect from whatever insurance you have and they will take what they can get and not bill you for the balance. This is a tremendous help to those who live on fixed incomes in this area. It might be of an interest to you to know that in the year 1997 Dare County provided 263 helicopter and 9558 ambulance rides.

Editors Note:   Things have changed since this article was written and published. . I now carry a transportation policy at a cost of $400.00 per year to avoid huge medical transportation bills. It has cost some of my friends as much as $8,000.00 to get off the Island during a medical emergency.

I love to remember the good old days and all the good times associated with the island. But when it comes to the area of medical attention, I am grateful for all the changes that have occurred and appear to be on the horizon. It is wonderful to know that no longer do we have to move our elderly citizens off the island to stay with other family members, as I did with my mother, so they can obtain immediate quality medical help. There is a possibility of an Outer Banks Hospital being built soon. That is if it doesn't get embroiled in politics and delays due to appeals. There was a time when doctors didn't want anything to do with the island because of the isolation and poor people. Now they are fighting over which group is going to be build the hospital to serve the county and the Island. I guess Hatteras has finally emerged as a part of the affluent society, whatever that is. It is strange to me that there is so much pressure being brought by two hospital groups who purport to be not for profit to influence the powers that be to certifiy them to build the hospital. From all appearances it looks like the Outer Banks Hospital Inc. group, associated with the Pitt County Memorial Hospital, in Greenville, NC has the politicians in their hip pocket. The other group connected with the Albermarle Hospital in Elizabreth City seems to be preferred by the general public. Will it be the public or the politicians? Hatteras Island along with the rest of the Outer Banks will definitely be watching and waiting to see if a decision based on the evidence of what is best for the citizens of Dare County rather than what will profit the hospitals or politicians.

I would like to leave you with a suggestion to prepare you for your unexpected emergency trip. I know help is as close as 911 but that doesn't mean much if they have trouble finding you. Be sure you have your emergency house number posted on your house. It is not something you do if you want too. Law carrying a penalty of $50 or imprisonment not to exceed 30 days mandates it.

Editors Note:   Permission to build the hospital was given to the Outer Banks Hospital group. The same group that now owns the Clinics on Hatteras Island.

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hatteras and Ocracoke Eggs

The Day That Eggs Closed Cape Point
by dewey parr

Eggs have always played an important role in the lives of the people who live on the Islands of Hatteras and Ocracoke. Everyone who grew up on the Islands knew there would have been a void in our daily diets without eggs. Every morning it was my chore at my Buxton home to go out to cautiously check the chicken house to see if the old hens had blessed us with some eggs. I learned from experience I was not the only one that gathered eggs. Often I would encounter a snake, cat, coon, or fox that also was fond of eggs.

My mother would make good use of the fresh eggs by preparing a pan of cornbread or other goodies. If we had extra I would run them up to Grandmother Grays. Another event centered on eggs was the annual Easter celebration. We had fun coloring eggs. Every year at the Church there was an Easter Egg Hunt for the smaller children. It wasn't a big affair because there were not that many of us but it was always something to look forward too. As we got older we had the fun of helping to prepare the eggs and hiding them for the smaller children.

Just a second ago, without knowing I was reminiscing on my computer about my egg days, my wife was fussing at Buster, our domesticated wild cat, about sitting himself in an empty box she was getting ready to use. He loves boxes and curls up in everyone he can find. She told him he was a "rotten egg".

I am sorry to say we have a lot of rotten eggs visiting our Islands these days. These are the types of rotten eggs that are causing problems for the future enjoyment of the Islands. I am referring to people who have no respect for the protection of our wildlife and plant life. Many of them will plow right through a turtle nesting or bird enclosure area crushing the eggs. In recent years we have even had reports of individuals deliberately taking the turtle eggs from the nest. There was a rumor going around that it was the Mexican population doing it. It was said they ate them as an aphrodisiac. Of course this was not true. Our Mexican population are fine upright people who love these Islands as much as we do. Since the rumor that turtle eggs are aphrodisiacs I have had some doubts about some of the native Islanders. Can they be trusted around turtle eggs anymore? I have a couple friends who get a gleam in their eyes when you mention turtle eggs.

Not long ago I was driving to the beach and there was car at the top of the ramp accessing the beach. A man was outside of the car with a handful of sea oats in one hand and a knife in the other one. He was cutting sea oats. His wife and kids were leaning out the car windows telling him to get that one or this one. I pulled up behind him and leaned out the window and told him, "What you are doing is illegal". He waved his knife at me and told me to "get the H--- out of here or he would kick the S---- out of me". Chicken as it may seem I drove around him and went on my way. We citizens have no authority and it is useless to report it to the park service. Reporting something of this nature in the past has only served as more ammunition for the National Park Service to have a reason to stop beach driving.

	Sea Oats (Unila paniculata) help to maintain the dunes. They catch the wind blown sand. They have a very long root system which stablizes the sand. When you cut a sea oat you are helping to destroy the Island. Please Do Not Cut Sea Oats.

Destruction of turtle and bird nesting areas has nothing to whether or not the eggs are from an endangered species. An egg is the beginning of life and needs to be respected and protected from useless destruction. When you hold an egg in your hand you are holding the beginning of something's life. Children growing up on these Islands did not disturb a bird or turtle nest. There was an inherent respect for the egg. Before the Park Service came there was no need to rope off bird or turtle nesting areas. Islanders did not disturb them. I can recall that when we came upon a nest with eggs in it we did not touch it, but waited and watched to see the marvel of nature when a new life would emerge. I was told that if you touch a nest the momma bird would not come back to it and you would be the cause of some baby not being born. What fun it was to watch this great miracle and see new life emerge from eggs and begin to move about in the beautiful environment of these Islands.

I consider us to be fortunate on these Islands to have those dedicated in the National Park Service to protecting our wildlife so that future generations will have the same pleasure we had growing up on Hatteras. Everyone should thank the National Park Service for providing the opportunity for our children and grandchildren to bask in glories of nature as the result of a little egg. To see baby turtles peel back their eggshells and make their way to the ocean is an experience every child needs to witness. It is as exciting as any major sporting event. Our National Park Service needs to spend more time-sharing this type of experience with the public.

It seems the National Parks Program of sharing the Islanders unique way of life and the glories of the natural beauty of the Islands in their summer programs is gone. I remember well the many evenings we attended the open-air sessions out by the Cape Point Campground with the Rangers on the beach to listen to their talks about our beautiful Island. Many times they even had older locals telling their experiences. They shared with us things that we who lived here had not taken the time to appreciate or did not fully understand. They told my children, as did other Islanders, the importance of protecting the wildlife and their babies. We came away from those meetings feeling good about our Island and thankful we had a part in bringing the National Park Service to Hatteras Island. Somewhere, somehow the Park Service seemed to forget about these programs and began to move into more commercial adventures.

Eggs have always been an important part of our Island heritage. Little did we ever think that in later years it would be the egg that would be the cause of ill will between the National Park and the locals and the possible destruction of our Island economy? This came home to us in the summer of 2005 when the National Park threw up a barricade, with armed guards in front of it, blocking us from going to the famed Cape Hatteras Fishing Point because of the piping plover eggs.

I remember that day well for I had just returned from Nags Head. When I pulled into the Old Gray House there was a young reporter from the Virginia Pilot waiting to talk with me. About that time a friend pulled up and said, "Have you heard they closed down Cape Point. We are all going out to the beach to protest." I said to the young lady from the newspaper, " Come on let's go." When we got there what I saw was a shock to me. The Park Service had erected a barricade with armed guards and state and county troopers were there with them. It was if they thought the locals where going to storm the beach and destroy the piping plover eggs they where supposed to be protecting. There was no doubt in my mind that someone in the National Park Service overreacted. The only good thing I see that occurred that day was I gave a young reporter from the Virginia Pilot the opportunity to cover her first major story.

Not only where the local citizens outraged, but also the tourists where upset to the point that many resolved never to return to the Island. Things of this nature have a way of coming back to haunt an area for many years. This act by the Park Service only served to leave a bad taste in the mouth of the general public that far exceeded that of any rotten egg. To add insult to injury this was also the summer the National Park Service ected to not have lifeguards on the Island. It surely was not because of lack of money that ou visitors to the Island had no protected swimming area. The Park Service spent more money needlessly protecting eggs than they would have spent on lifeguards for the many years.

The solution would have been simple, as the new Park Superintendent has indicated. Provide a way to drive around the eggs. As you well know few people in our government think simple. It always requires wasting taxpayer's money.

Throughout history the egg has always been the symbol of a new beginning. Artists and crafters have used the egg to create elaborate works of art to adorn the homes of royalty. While during a tour in the Navy, as a corpsman assigned to a Naval Research Unit, I became aware of how important the egg could be in medical research. The egg is often the medium used to develop vaccines such as the flue vaccine, which we were working on at that time.

It was eggs that divided the locals and the national Park Service. Now let us use the egg symbol of a New Beginning to unite the National Park Service and the Islanders. From this point on there needs to be a concentrated effort on the part of those who were on both sides of the barricade to work together to not only protect the eggs, but return peace an quiet to our beautiful Islands.

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The Muricadae or Murex family of shells is not only the largest but composed of some of the most colorful and unique shells in the ocean. When you visit the Old Gray House this a few of the Murex shells you will see.

by dewey parr

Do you remember a time when there was only black and white TV? Do you remember when there were limited numbers of colors available in fabrics? My wife and her friends love to quilt. Some of the old quilts had beautiful patterns, but not much color. Colorful materials just where not available. Today quilters are blessed with having to make decisions what hues of the primary colors to choose for their patterns.

I recall the days on Hatteras when most of the clothing worn was not very colorful. You did not see the beautiful colors in the rainbow being worn by people like you do today. Probably the most colorful items were the feed sacks the ladies used to make clothing. For a short period of about three years of my life I was deprived of the privilege of seeing colors due to a serious eye problem. Everything was Gray or Black with a little white. When I was fortunate enough to come back to the world of color I became more aware of how colorful our beautiful Island is. Nothing can compare with watching our sunrises and sunsets. Believe me it is no fun to have witnessed the colors of this world and then be deprived of it. That experience made me not only appreciative of colors but also more understanding what those who have limited vision are enduring. Take care of those eyes.

Murex brassica. This colorful shell is found from Peru to the California. It is also called the Cabbage Murex. Look close and you will see that it has three brown bands

Imagine living in world of little or no color? What would it be like to live in a world where garments were drab and never seemed to be different from day to day? From what we can gleam from various history sources, people lived that way before a group of people in the village of Tyre, a Phoenician city on the coast of the Mediterranean Sea, found they could produce a dye from the animal in the Murex shell. Not only did this discovery revolutionize the garment industry but brought great fame and wealth to the Phoenicians. The only sad part about the discovery was that as usual it was the rich and powerful that benefited by it because it was so expensive. It also led to the over fishing of the Murex Shell. Mounds and mounds of crushed smelly Murex Shells dotted the horizon as the industry grew. It is said it took around 10,000 shells to produce the dye for one robe.

This discovery meant little to average people. Sensing the importance of the discovery the ultra rich and the royalty of that day seized the moment and capitalized on the industry. They immediately locked it up for themselves. The rulers of that day such as Julius Caesar, Cleopatra and Nero reserved the color purple for themselves. Only those they permitted could wear Tyrian Purple, so named after the city of Tyre. Nero is supposed to have worn all purple robes and decreed that anyone else that did would be executed. Because of the Murex Shell the fashion shows began. Now at last the high and mighty all over the world could walk the streets of ancient Rome and say to the rest of the world, "Look at me, look at my clothes. I am different from the rest of you. Take note, I am rich and an important person and the purple stripes on my garments show it."

Murex Pectin (Lightfoot 1786) This strange looking member of the Murex family is also called Venus Comb or Mermaids Comb. Legend has it that it was used as a comb by mermaids and Venus the Goddest of Love . It is also called fish-bone because it resmebles the skelton of a fish.	Murex Alabaster Chicoreus (Siratus) alabaster, Reeve, L.A. 1845 This beautiful delicate Murex shell is listed as one of the 50 rarest shells in the World.
These are Some of the Many Different Species of Murex or Rock Shells You Will Find At the Old Gray House

Even the hierarchy of the Church got into the act. Sacred Purple was reserved for the priests and parts of the temples. Among churchgoers the fringe of purple on a garment became a signal to all that the wearer had God's approval. Even to this day there is a quest to determine what species of the Muricidae family or Murex Shell was the one used to produce the sacred purple. I have a friend who told me when she went to visit the Holy Land that there was an aquarium in one temple with different species of live Murex Shells in it. She was told by one of the priests that they were used in experiments to determine which particular Murex Shell was the one that produced the Sacred Purple of the Bible.

After much research it has been determined that Royal Sacred Purple came from one of three species of Murex: Murex trunculus, Murex brandis, and Thais haemastoma. There is a company today that produces sacred strings dyed with extracts from the Murex shell that you can purchase to mark your Bible. I assume it is the fulfillment of the scriptures as well as showing your dedication to God.

For many years the Phoenicians had a monopoly on the production of Murex Purple. Their waters were full of Murex shells. As they worked and labored and perfected the art of producing the dye their market expanded. They found as time went on they could produce different hues of the color purple that approached red by controlling the amount of sunlight and adding other alkaline ingredients to the dye vats. When the fluid is first extracted from the shell it is clear with a yellowish tint but when it hits the sunlight it turns purple. The Phoenicians put the extracted solution in salt water not only preserve it, but to reduce the smell. They added other ingredients to control the density of color. They even were known to use urine of the workers in the vats. Can you imagine the pleasure some of the workers had knowing the rich and mighty were wearing garments saturated with their urine.

This domination of the dye market was soon to change. Others such as the Chinese found that their raw silk material adapted well to the dye, so they entered into the picture. Just as our local waters no longer provide us with the abundance of clams and oysters due to over harvesting so did the Mediterranean waters no longer yield less quantities of Murex Shells. This, along with the fact other color fast dyes from insects and chemicals began to come on the scene, the use of Royal Purple was no longer in demand.

These are pictures of local Murex Shells that washed up on the beach with the animal inside. Notice the animal that has withrew inside and closed his trapdoor or operculumn for protection.

When I am walking our beach today it is seldom I find a Murex Shell anymore. When I do it is usually not in great shape. The major difference between our Murex and Mediterranean Murex is that the glands on the shell are near the surface and the fluid can be extracted from them without having to crush the shell. If you have ever held a Hatteras Island Murex Shell in your hand with a life animal inside you can attest the fact that the animal emits a huge amount of mucus or slime from its hypobranchial gland. This was not the case with the Phoenician shell so they crushed the smaller shells and separated the fluid from shell for their dyeing vats. In some cases they were able to extract the dye that produced fluid from the larger shells without crushing them. Can you imagine the smell that arose from piles of rotting shellfish along their shores? Occasionally Cape Point smells from all of the dead fish that line the beach, but nothing like people endured over there. It has been said that when ships used to pass Hatteras they could smell the difference. When Mary and I passed Hatteras coming out of Norfolk aboard ship on the way to the Caribbean we did not smell the difference, but we felt the difference from the rough seas.

When you visit the Old Gray House Shell Shack you will find a variety of Murex Shells available. They are beautiful to look at but in many areas they are not held in high esteem for the animal inside the shell is a predator that enjoys a good meal of clams and oysters. They have the ability to bore holes into the shells of their prey to gain entrance to the meaty delight. We do the same thing at Hatteras only we use a knife to pry the shell open. Should you decide to attempt to collect them all you will find it is an endless an expensive task.

Probably the showiest of all is the large Murex Ramosus which is becoming less and less available each year. I call it the Shell of Royalty. I keep one on display in my home all the time to remind me how the Murex Shell was used to bring our world from garments of gray to garments of glory.

Murex Ramosus - Front view

Murex Ramosus - Back view

Ramosus - The Shell of Royalty

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by dewey parr

Fish illustrations from the book Florida Fishes, copyright Great Outdoors Publishing Co. and used by permission.

When you live on Hatteras Island you cannot help but be aware of fish. Never a day goes by that the word fish is not a topic of discussion. No matter how old I get I will never cease to be amazed by the wonders of God’s creations. The Good Book states, “He gave us dominion over the fish of the sea.” In the Bible you find a lot of references to fish. It speaks of Jonah being swallowed by a great fish, which most people just naturally assume is a whale. There are many other mentions of fish such as in the feeding of the five thousand, a coin obtained from the mouth of a fish, and the great catch of fish. It even tells of dietary laws that were enacted concerning fish that were considered unclean and unsafe for human consumption.

I recall the evangelist that used to come to our Buxton Church comparing how we humans in many ways, are like fish. We can be caught or hooked. They spoke of how the old devil would bait his hook with the glitter of the world and dangle it in front of us. Because of weakness or greed we would swallow the hook. Seems like each evangelist had a different version of what kind of bait the old devil used. They all had one thing in common. They concluded that Adam and Eve demonstrated in the Garden of Eden the weakness we humans have in common with fish.

Fishing

Over the years I have heard Islanders use the word fish to designate the actions of particular people. They would say of a person who doesn’t seem to be able to help himself, “Poor Fish”. I also heard it said of some who couldn’t handle their liquor, “He drinks like a fish”. They also had a saying about company coming. They are like fish. After three days they begin to smell.

When I look at the world of fish I can see in the names applied to them as well as their looks and actions that remind me of people. Together, let us look under the waters of our beautiful ocean and cite a few examples of how some fish remind us of our own actions as well as those of some people we know.

There are two particular fish, that when you look at them, remind you of people with poor attitudes. I am sure when you look closely at these two pictures you will be reminded of someone you know.

PEOPLE WITH POOR ATTITUDES

Common or White Grunt

The Goat Fish

The Grunt Family of fish gets its name from the way they make a deep muffled grunting sound that can be heard below and above the water. Do you know some people that when you speak to them all you get out of them is a grunt? They act like they are mad at the world and everybody in it. I have a met a few like this. You say hello and they grunt turn their head away and hurriedly rush out.

Look at the Goatfish. This fish reminds you of people who always have a scowl on their face and never smile or seem to be happy about anything. I heard a lady refer to her husband as the Old Goat. I feel sorry for those with this type of attitude. There is so much in life to be joyous about. We have a little lady that comes into the Old Gray House that seems to light up the whole place with her joyous attitude. It such a joy to see people like her who find something beautiful to talk about and be thankful for all the time. I love those types of people. When you are around them everyday seems special.

This next fish I am sure will bring to mind someone you know. He displays, out in the open, his feelings for all to see. At a moments notice, when provoked, he will swell up and let you know his feelings.

PEOPLE FULL OF WRATH

Puffer or Swellfish

When you are around this type of person it seems when you least expect it they swell up and blast off at anyone around them. They are always ready to spew out their wrath on anyone that near them. It seems like such a shame to waste all that energy on trivial matters. They definitely need to heed the admonition to be “slow to wrath.”

There are three close-knit buddies that roam the ocean waters that keep up on everything that is going on. They flit here and there and never seem to miss a trick. Look closely at these fish and see if you are familiar with the traits they possess.

PEOPLE WHO JUDGE OTHERS
PEOPLE WHO GOSSIP AND SLANDER OTHERS

Bigeye SEE ALL

Longnose Gar HEAR ALL

Large Mouthed Jawfish TELL ALL

Are you familiar with people who take it on themselves to judge others? Some people try to find out everything they can about another person, or stick their nose in other peoples business. It has never bothered me for a person to be like the big eye and find out about my personal business, but it does bother me when they are like the large mouth jaw fish and blab it all over the neighborhood. I think the looks of these three friends of the sea are enough to tell us we need to avoid looking like them. We all need to be reminded that the Good Book says, “Judge Not”.

Since we started our shop I have encountered a lot of married men in particular who have the traits of this next fish. They seem to want everything for themselves and nothing for their wives. They think nothing of purchasing an expensive rod and reel, golf clubs or whatever they want. Often they will tell their wives they cannot have an inexpensive item they want to purchase for themselves. Only one time, in the seventeen years we have been open, have I heard a woman tell a man he could not have something he wanted.

PEOPLE WHO ARE SELFISH

Hogfish

Do you know anybody that is so selfish that they want to hog it all for themself?

This next little guy gets his name from his slick body that just seems to skip through the water.

PEOPLE WHO SKIP EVERYTHING

Skipper

I guess in many ways we all tend to possess this trait. We skip this and that intentionally or otherwise. Most of us have the philosophy to never do today what you can put off until tomorrow. I remember one time I forgot or skipped remembering to get something for our anniversary. It was a costly lesson for me. It cost me $500.00 to get out of the doghouse. My advice is don’t skip doing what you know you should be doing.

See if this next fish reminds you of someone you know.

PEOPLE WHO ARE CONCEITED

Bighead Sea Robin

Have you ever met anyone that had the big head or was so conceited it was ridiculous? I have. I met a person one time when I was in the Navy that thought he was God’s gift to the world. He only talked about himself and how smart he was. He constantly spent his time in front of the mirror flexing his muscles and primping. Little did he know that the other sailors where always behind his back laughing and mimicking him. When it came time for us to leave the ship to go ashore he would douse himself with cologne so strong that you could smell him a mile away. I guess his philosophy was he didn’t just want people to look at him, but smell him coming. There is nothing wrong about thinking highly of yourself. When it becomes an obsession it needs to be controlled.

Now this last fish has the distinction of being considered as one of the world’s most desirable fish. It is admired for its beautiful colors as well as the gentle way it glides through the waters.

PEOPLE WHO HAVE A BEAUTIFUL NATURE

Paradise Fish

The Paradise fish is symbolic of the attitude we should possess. In the many years Mary and I have been dealing with the public we have learned that true beauty comes from within and not without when it comes to people. People come in all colors, sizes and shapes. The only real difference between them is how they perceive themselves and the other people around them. It is our hope that we, along with others we meet will acquire the true Hatteras Spirit of being a joy to all.

As you can see fish in many ways resemble people. A fish for many years was a symbol for those who followed the Great Fisherman. During the persecution of the Church if someone drew half of a fish in the sand you would draw the other half to let them know you were a follower of The Great Fisherman. When you draw the symbol of the fish you are also revealing that you cherish the things of God above the things of the world. Here is my half. Can you draw the other?

Picture Of The Drawing Of Half A Fish.

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by dewey parr

Have you ever stood, on a stormy day, at Cape Point on Hatteras Island and watched the clashing of the currents. It is a breath-taking scene to behold. The waves clash together, sending water twenty feet or higher that fan out in the air like an umbrella. One after another they come together leaving the watcher in a state of awe at the majesty and strength of the mighty ocean. I have been watching this magnificent miracle of nature since my childhood on the Island and I find it as refreshing in the new millennium as I did back then.

Once you behold this phenomenon of the sea you can readily understand why the Outer Banks is known as the land of shipwrecks, wind, and mighty waves. Off the coast of Hatteras two currents come together, one from the north called the Labrador Current, and the other one from the south known as the Gulf Stream. These clashing hot and cold currents along with the air currents make the Outer Banks area a fascinating place to work and play. On some days the currents bless us with mild tropical weather and other days they become violent and provide us with an angry ocean that spews forth its wrath upon all that gets in its way. It is often said by those who live on the islands if you don't like our weather just wait twenty minutes and it will change. The Islanders have learned over the years to respect and admire the ever changing currents. One might say the people of Hatteras and Ocracoke have learned to live in harmony with the ocean. There is a mutual understanding between the two. Each knows their limits and boundaries.

Often, as I stand looking at the clashing currents, I cannot help but think how wonderful it would be if the National Park Service and the Islanders could also learn to live in harmony with each other. Ever since the beginning of the Park Service in 1953 it seems like all I can remember is the constant clashing of the currents between the locals and National Park Service Personnel. Things go along smoothly just as it does with the ocean and then suddenly there seems to be a shift in the wind and you can see the water begin to churn and the currents spewing forth its wrath. The shift in the wind is often caused by some member of the park service team making rash statements or judgments without any consideration of how it might affect the lives of those who lived on these islands long before there ever was a park service.

I recall, evening after evening at the family gatherings in the Old Gray House listening to stories of how the park service betrayed the Islanders by not keeping the promises they made in the beginning in the meetings with the locals. When the park service first began they had meetings with the locals and made promises that they would not ever interfere with the Islanders access to the beach. The beaches would always be open and free to the public. They definitely stated, according to my family who was present at the meeting that they would not in any way stop them from hunting in the woods or fishing. They were also were led to believe they would get rich, because they would become the custodians of the many tourists who would come to the Islands. At the meetings they where warned to be on the look out for wolves in sheep's clothing who would be trying to acquire their land. Many Islanders still have copies of the letter that was sent to them by Conrad L. Wirth, the National Park Service Director at that time. Not long ago when the park service superintendent, was questioned at the Anglers Club about these written promises he made it clear past park services promises were no longer valid.

At first everything went along fine. In fact many of the Islanders, being the generous people they are, even provided land to the park service in exchange for what was to be a fair price. A member of my own family, who had beach property, soon learned that there seemed to be little that was fair in dealing with the National Park Service. To put it bluntly the feeling of many locals is that when it came to acquiring land it was the Park Service that was the wolf in sheep's clothing. Little by little the Park Service and its personnel began to take the attitude that they were much smarter than the Islanders and they needed to begin to establish rules and regulations to keep the Islanders in check. Many Islanders tell tales about employees hounding them. They tell how they were followed watched. It became a game between the Park Service and Islanders to see who could outsmart the other. It was a little like the adventures of the roadrunner cartoon. Granted often it is true. The locals needed to be reminded that the land owned, or taken, by the park service, as some would say, was no longer theirs to use as they well pleased, but now belonged to the entire nation. But on the other hand it was not proper for the Park Service Employees to act so high and mighty and flaunt their education. Their, "we no what's best for you", attitude not only showed their lack of a proper education, but led to a constant clashing of the waves. To put it in the local's language, "they had book learning but no common sense".

Even to this day after fifty years, the gap between the park service and the locals continues to widen. The currents run hot and cold clashing furiously together causing some locals to froth at the mouth at the mere mention of the Park Service. Recent events with the moving of the Cape Hatteras Lighthouse showed what some called the insensitivity of the Park Service in their approach to what should have been a mutual agreement by all parties concerned. Everyone had the same goal of saving the lighthouse. There was no avenue provided to communicate those feeling with each other. The appearance the Park Service gave, whether it was a deserved one or not, was we are in control and we will do what we want and we don't care what you think. Granted many of the locals jumped to their feet in a rage just like the waves clashing at the point and began to question the validity of moving the lighthouse without considering other less costly alternatives. Without any hesitation the public perception that seemed to permeate the air from the Park Service personnel towards the locals was, if you question or don't do it our way you are either a selfish business person or a would be self appointed historian, who has little or no knowledge of what is best for these Islands. Rumors began to fly and brash moves by some Park personnel who appeared to be disseminating their own form of propaganda began to infuriate the locals even more.

One incident in particular that bothered me was when an uniformed park service person stopped an elderly lady coming out of a local grocery store and scolded her for wearing a, Don't Move The Lighthouse Button. Others began to report that they were told to remove, Don't Move Stickers, from their vehicles or face possible prosecution for driving across park service land. Tourists came into our shop sharing with us statements made to them by park rangers about the locals who opposed the moving of the lighthouse. As is the case in most controversial issues, I am sure there where gross exaggerations on both sides, but nevertheless in my estimation the Park Service Administration did a poor job in controlling their troops and communicating with the public. Probably the best thing the Park Superintendent could have done for public relations at that time would have been to put a sock in the mouth of some of his employees who felt it was their job to straighten out the locals.

During this time period as many of you well remember many expressed their concerns not so much about moving the lighthouse but the future erosion problem that would occur at the entrance way to Buxton. They felt it would imperil their homes and the entire village of Buxton, if the Park Service continued with its philosophy of not replenishing or maintaining the dunes and the existing groins. Predictions were made that the moving of the lighthouse without a beach nourishment program would be the beginning of an inlet above Buxton. It was also predicted that the moving of the lighthouse would be the beginning of a fee system and limited access to the beaches.

As I now look through the mist, at the clashing currents, I see in the future that the lack of continual beach nourishment, and the rising oceans due to global warming, will result in Hatteras and Ocracoke no longer being single islands but a series of small islands that are cut asunder by the clashing currents and waves. For Hatteras Island I can see five islands with Rodanthe and Avon being the largest one. Buxton and Frisco will be a single island, and poor little Hatteras village will be all alone. I am not sure what Ocracoke will be like but I think there will two or three separate islands.

In recent years there has been another clash of currents by announcing the possibility of instituting a beach driving permit. This was announced while the lighthouse was in the process of being moved. Temporarily they have backed off of the permit fee. Regardless what people say or do I personally feel it is a done deal and that eventually we will see a fee instituted for driving the beach. I also foresee in time a limitation of the number of vehicles that can be on the beach at a given time. In order to implement this new phase of collecting fees and controlling beach traffic I can see toll booths being set up to check passes and control the number of vehicles. Now all of this might not happen immediately, but I think it is only a matter of time.

It is true that when I asked the question of our new Superintendent at the Cape Hatteras Anglers Club, "Can you envision a time when we will no longer be able to drive the beach?" he answered. "No." A further question that I feel I should have asked is do you ever envision a time when only a limited number will be allowed to drive the beach at a time. I think an honest answer from the Park Service would be, YES.

In no way do I think for one minute that it is the desire of the administration of the National Park Service to discontinue beach driving. We need to open our eyes to the fact our Cape Hatteras National Park is in the money-making business. To discontinue beach driving is to give up a needed source of revenue they can collect from instituting a beach permit system. I think they are just monkeying around with our minds when it comes to beach driving. The threat of no driving on the beach to me by the Park Service is just a smoke screen to get us to accept the lesser of two evils, which would be a fee to drive on the beach. The only way I think the beaches will be closed to vehicles is for some environmental group to force the issue.

The big question is what can we do about it? In my opinion, we need to contact our Congresspersons immediately, and let our views be known for or against fees and beach driving. There is no need to scream, shout, and get all upset. Now is the time to seek help from those who are pledged to represent us. Our representatives in Washington vote to provide the Cape Hatteras National Seashore with the money to operate. If the Superintendent of this Park is not able to manage the Cape Hatteras National Park with the money granted him then we need to help by requesting Congress grant him more money rather than having to institute fees. After all what is another million or so to our government that gives away billions annually to other countries. It is important if you are from another state to contact the Congressional Delegation from your particular state.

Times have changed since the last time an attempt was made to stop beach driving. Powerful groups with lots of money, lawyers, and congressional pull, seem to have the upper hand. Regardless of their power there is a mighty power that we hold in our hands and that is our individual vote. I surely do not intent to vote for any one in the political world that favors instituting a fee or limiting my access to the beach, be it walking or driving. We pay enough taxes to merit not having to pay a fee to use the beach. Our National Parks should be freed from all fees.

A good example of improper communication between the park service and the locals is the problem shared with me by a local commercial fisherman. When they pull in their nets on the beach if they are caught with illegal fish in their trucks or nets they can be fined. They are not allowed to take illegal fish off the beach by the marine enforcement agency and the park service will not allow them to leave them on the beach or to put them back in the water. Sounds impossible to me that some local commercial fishermen feel that the National Park is deliberately doing everything they can to hurt them.

Probably the bitterest pill to swallow will be the day when the Park Service limits the number of vehicles that can be on the beach at a given time. Picture this. You paid your beach driving fee and you drive up to the gate with your rod and reel ready for a days fishing at Cape Point and you are rejected because the number of vehicles allowed on the beach at a given time has been reached. I have a feeling this is one pill that definitely is not going to go down right with a lot of people. We need to be reminded that this type of program is nothing new. It has already been put in place in other parks.

The other morning as I drove past the area where the lighthouse used to be. I accepted the fact no longer would I ever see the lighthouse with the ocean and the sunrise behind it again. Now I cannot change the fact the lighthouse has been moved. I have learned to cheerfully accept and adjust to the changes in my health and I will do the same thing about the lighthouse and the fee system that is being instituted to climb it and eventually a fee to drive the beach. Admittedly I will probably pay the fee only one time to go to the top of the lighthouse. That will be out of curiosity to see if I can see my house from the top. My wife says I need to be careful when I do so because the Lighthouse might throw piece of the steps down on my head.

The many tourists who visit our beautiful islands for the first time every year will not pay any attention to the location of the lighthouse. They will pay the fee, climb the lighthouse, and go home singing the praises of the Park Service who saved the mighty tower. The only people that the fee might bother are people like a friend of mine who comes to the island every year and climbs the lighthouse twice a day. He had always been in the habit of giving a dollar donation every time he climbed it. He will not pay a fee twice a day. It could also bother families with lots of children. On the other hand, they might do like my wife and I used to do when we didn't have the money to spare. We did not go ourselves but let the kids go.

I think it is time for the Islanders to swallow our bitter pills about moving the lighthouse, land deals, and past comments by Park Service Personnel. We need to hope that as time goes on that the Cape Hatteras National Park Service and the Locals will be able to work closer together to implement plans to preserve what will be left of the island after nature whittles it down. As I see it the goals of the locals and the park service are basically the same. The problem seems to be there is not an avenue of communication between the two.

It seems to me it would behoove the new park service superintendent to set up a standing committee composed of locals, business, and community leaders to discuss the issues that are confronting the Islands. Prior to implementation of something as drastic as a fee to use or drive the beach, definitely needs to have community evolvement. It could devastate the economy of the entire region. Somewhere along the way we need to keep the currents from clashing.

We have a new Park Superintendent. He seems to be diligently working hard to mend fences and work closer with the Islanders. This is a refreshing change from what we have had in the past. There are many things that have happened in the past and those things need to be put on the back burner and we need to work with our Superintendent rather than create more clashing of the currents. It is time we put ourselves in his shoes and come to realize his is not an easy task trying to juggle what is in the best interest of the Islanders and the Park.

My Island Mom also added another little statement to her saying when you had to accept something you didn't like. "It is a bitter pill to swallow" and, "it is stuck in my craw". The younger generation, who has never had to kill, pluck and clean a chicken, might not understand the saying, so I will translate it for them in Island terms. Islanders will have to accept the fact the Park Service is here. The lighthouse has been moved. A fee will be charged to climb it. Eventually they will be paying a fee to use or drive the beach, and there will be a limited number of vehicles on the beach. This we must accept. But that doesn't mean we will ever like it.

There is no denying that there are many negative aspects one might have about the attitudes of the National Park Service But there are also many positive. In my estimation the positives outweighs the negatives. Just because we speak out about the things we dislike does not mean we do not appreciate and approve of having a National Park on Cape Hatteras Island. We only speak out because we want what we feel is best for all those who lives on these Islands as well as those who come to visit us.

Recently while watching the clashing currents at Cape Point I asked myself the question, What would Hatteras Island be like without the National Park? It is doubtful if it where not for our Park Service that we would be able to enjoy our wide open beaches. Can you imagine what the real-estate developers would do with the present Park Service land if they had it? Million dollar houses would line the beach with little or no public access to the beach. Even though North Carolina law states the people own the beaches that would mean nothing if you where not allowed to cross over a persons property to get to the beach. There is no law on the books that says a property owner must allow you to cross over their property to get to the beach. Imagine miles and miles of no public access to a beautiful beach that sits there primarily for those who are wealthy enough to own beachfront property. I call it government-financed beaches for the rich. Fuss as we may about this and that about the Park Service, they have provided, not only we who live here, but all who come to these Islands the opportunity to share in the joys of the ocean and the natural beauties of nature.

I wish everyone in the whole world could have the same privilege we have each day of our lives to bask in the sun on a beautiful untouched beach. We can fish, surf, swim, collect shells, sun bathe or whatever turns our crank. The National Park Service is responsible for preserving and protecting our Island Paradise. We need to count our blessings and come to realize just how important the Cape Hatteras National Park Service is to maintaining our personal happiness. It is rather nice to have a beautiful park as it where in your back yard

This old world is full of turmoil and unrest, but thanks to National Park Service Hatteras and Ocracoke Islands are places of peace and tranquility. Our former Island ways have been maintained as a result of the Park Service. The many history and nature walks and talks they offer will tell future generations of the natural beauty and cultural aspects of these Islands.

My wife and I have a lot in common with the Park Service for we are both celebrating our fiftieth this year. Mary and I will be married fifty years this year and our Park is fifty years old. WE SAY, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY CAPE HATTERAS NATIONAL PARK .....WE LOVE YOU."

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by dewey parr

One of the most important treasures we can provide
for our children and future generations is the
GIFT OF KNOWLEDGE about a family's heritage.

The legacy of shipwrecks is spotty. You find pieces here and there. Pieces from the past are all over the Islands. They tell a story. They conjure up visions of pirate's sunken treasures and what life was like. The never-ceasing rolling waves that splash on our beaches are constantly depositing small glimpses into the past at our feet. As you stroll along you will see at your toes bits and pieces of driftwood with holes in them that once held pegs from ships that have met their fate at sea. You may encounter a gleaming object in the sand providing you with a precious treasure from the sea. In my daily walk along the oceans edge I find not only am I closely linked with God and nature, but also I am in tune with the past.

The Old Houses of Hatteras and Ocracoke all have many stories to tell. Almost every old house has boards, bolts, and artifacts from old shipwrecks incorporated into them. When we worked on my grandparent Gray's old home, we found floorboards from shipping crates that had washed ashore from ships. They had inscriptions on them from many different places. There were a host of other items such as pegged rafters, a door, a mirror from a ship, ships mast, and iron bolts. In the yard sits an old iron buoy hauled from the beach. How they got it there I will never know. As you enter the house, the entrance way is flanked with two stones from the first Hatteras Island lighthouse that was built 200 years ago in 1803. Constantly pieces out of the past seem to surface around the property. The remains of old stoves grates, tools, fishing gear, irons, and old bottles pop up here and there. The sands of the Islands hold many secrets still to be revealed. History is to be found in our Island sand.

Wouldn't it be wonderful if the old boards and artifacts col1ected over the years by the Islanders could speak. What stories would they tell about the trials and tribulations of families that came to the new world to start life anew? Think how exciting it would be if the old-timers in your family had taken time to record their adventures in writing so that you could enjoy them. Wouldn't you love to be able to read about the day-to-day lives of your many loved ones whose ships have sunk in the sea of life? My grandmother, Sarah Muphy Farrow, arrived on Hatteras Island as a result of a shipwreck. I only wish she had left a written legacy. Not only do we not know of her family background, we have not been able to locate her burial site on the Island. Why Islanders kept such treasured items a secret from their families I will never know.

Living is a lot more than waiting for someone to etch on a piece of stone, metal or wood telling the world the date of your birth and death. Living is the day-to-day adventures and the way we perceive and interact with the immediate world around us. History is more than dates and figures. It is the record of the action-packed lives of those who chose to remain on these Islands against all odds. One only has to look at the devastation in the village of Hatteras as a result of hurricane Isabel to understand the many hardships faced by Island families of the past.

Island history is more than pictures on a wall in a museum. It is the stories of how Island families bravely banned together to battle the forces of nature. It is tales of how they managed not only to survive but also live happy and productive lives. It is lives that are reflected in the happy faces of their descendants who still inhabit these Islands regardless of the annual visits of hurricane winds and water. Thousands of tourists return to these islands year after year because they see the joy that the Islanders have received from just being on the Islands. That joy is so contagious that everyone who comes in contact with it secretly wishes they could live on these Island Paradises.

Now, after many years of sailing the seas of life, I sense my ship is in danger of sinking as it is slowly headed for the treacherous Diamond Shoals. I ask myself: "What will wash ashore when my ships sinks. Will there be any bits and pieces of life as it was in my day for future generations to ponder". I am thankful that a few years back, as the result of Irene Nolan, editor of the Island Free Press, I began to put in writing my recollections of Island life. Many years ago I wrote my first article on the subject of change and progress on the Islands, and submitted it to Irene. I have absolutely no training or knowledge of how to write or what to say. I just wanted to get something off my chest about how all these changes on the Islands where affecting our lives. I never figured she would publish it. They had so many talented writers, not to mention the superb writing ability of the Editor. After the article was published Irene encouraged me to write more. She said, "You know, you don't have to be trained to write, you merely need to write about the things you know and feel. You need to write for no other reason than to provide a record of what life was like during your time for those who come after you." Thanks to Irene, I have to come to realize, as someone said, "One of the most important legacies we can provide for our children and for future generations is the GIFT OF KNOWLEDGE about the family's heritage". Since that time, when the spirit hits me, I have taken the time to jot down the things I remember about my days on the Island. I have designated my daughter as my family historian. Some of my writings have been published on a variety of topics about the Islands such as Religion, Cemeteries, Shells, Island Legends and host of other subjects. A lot of times the things I write are not worthy of publication, but at least there is a written record someplace for those in the future.

I would encourage you to start writing down the things you remember and submit them to your designated family historian or someplace for publication. If you don't want to give them to anyone then fold them up and attach them to your will. If you are now on vacation a good place to begin is to write a letter to the Island Free Press about your trip. I am sure it would bring great pleasure to your children and grandchildren in the future to look back on the good times you shared together.

There is a benefit that Irene Nolan did not mention to me. It is the therapeutic one that comes from writing. Sometimes I go out to the ocean and sit with a pad and pencil in my hand overlooking the endless ocean to let my thoughts flow like the waves. There is a sense of release as you write. It is as if you are entering a whole new realm where there is peace and tranquility as you jot down the joys of life as well as your thoughts from the past. Of course you have to take it for granted that a lot of that feeling comes from the fact when you are on the Hatteras beach you are overlooking the most beautiful scenery in the world. I encourage you to try it. Why not you have nothing to loose and everything to gain.

Clearing our minds of all the baggage we are burdened with is a lot easier than loosing all those extra pounds we carry around. Getting away from it all is not physical it is mental. When they first opened our Island to tourism I was fascinated watching tourists who set up easels on the beach painting scenes from the ocean. As I looked on and observed them splashing vivid colors on their canvasses, I envied their talent to produce such magnificent pictures of our beautiful Island. Sad to say seldom do I see this anymore for it has been replaced with people running around, with boxes bulging from their eyes called digital cameras, snapping up Island scenery. You may be as untalented in these areas as I am, but you have the ability to draw pictures with your words. I learned when I studied Greek in my theological training that words depict pictures. It is not the words you will be writing that are important. It is the pictures you will be drawing with those words that will have such a deep meaning to the future. You have the ability to paint with your words pictures of your present and past experiences that will be viewed as family treasures in the future by your loved ones.

One tip I would give you is to force yourself to forget about your grammar and punctuation as you write. Be more concerned with the story you want to tell. Your grammar and punctuation can be corrected later, especially if you have a computer. If you worry about what others might think about you rather than what you have to say you will probably never find much pleasure in writing. Let your thoughts flow freely without any inhibitions. Be like the seagulls gliding in the wind. In no way think about writing for profit but write for pleasure. Write in your every day colorful words about the things that have brought you joy and happiness. Share the little things of life that might be insignificant to others but have meaning to you. Another tip is to make it short and sweet if you hope to have it published. This is a problem I definitely have never been able to master.

Hopefully you will take time to consider, what will wash ashore for your family to remember when your ship sinks? I am sure many will be looking forward to reading and visualizing the word pictures you provide about your adventures and views. I would love to hear from you. It would be appreciate if you would share your writings with me as I am doing with you.

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by dewey parr

Do you believe in Ghosts? Is there such a thing? Have you ever been someplace where you sensed the presence of some unseen force? These are the questions I asked a few friends of mine recently.

One friend, who is an avid hunter and fisherman, shared this experience with me. He and his brother often took trips to hunt in the Canaan Valley area of West Virginia. He stated that there was a certain valley that every time they entered it they sensed the presence of some supernatural force that made their skin crawl. In fact he said that it got to the place it was so bad they avoided the area. He thought there might have been some tragedy that took place in the valley in time past and there where spirits lingering there. I can recall times that I, too, have had that funny feeling that I was not alone even thought there was no one present. Have you experienced this?

Another friend said that the night his wife's grandfather died, miles away, that a wind went over the bedroom and he could feel the presence of someone. Later we learned it was at this exact time he died. They surmised it was the spirit of her grandfather passing over into the hereafter. I have heard others speak of such things. Have you?

What is a Ghost? Everyone has their own concept. Some say they are merely figments of your imagination. Others say they are bits and pieces from the past that are embedded in our memories. Many hold to the idea that ghosts are spirits of departed ones that are not at rest or are trying to reach out from the grave to warn us of impending dangers.

Now I am not sure what or if there are ghost. I do know that there are many times I have been on the premises of the Old Gary House and sensed the presence of The Ghost of the Gray House. It is not just the sensing of the Ghost but incidents that make me believe that there are unseen spirits present. One time in particular while I sitting in the Gray House Garden under and oak tree while the wind was gently blowing I heard a familiar voice whispering in the wind my name. Over and over my name was spoken. Other times I have been working in the yard of the Gray House and laid down a tool only to reach down and pick it up and was gone. I now for a fact I put the tools down and they disappear. Their have been times that I felt an unexplainable presence as I walked through the garden or heard a swishing of the underbrush.

I have finally come to the conclusion that we do have a Ghost at the Old Gray House and it is the spirit of my favorite, Uncle Kendrick Gray the youngest child born to my grandparents, Melissa and Bill Gray. His spirit is not at rest for he is seeking a final resting place on Hatteras Island.

Kendrick Gray

This Is a Picture Of The Ghost Of The Gray House
Sitting On The Porch

There is not a lot I can tell you about my Uncle Ken. He never did anything spectacular in his seventy-nine years on this earth. He had little or no money most of his life. Kendrick spent a short time in the Army and his major achievement was that he received a sharpshooter's award. He lived in the Old Gray House with his mother for a considerable number of years as a bachelor and later in life married Helena Spencer who was originally from Ocracoke. At one time he and aunt Helen drove the county mosquito truck spraying the Island with a solution of DDT. As you know we later learned that DDT was not only harmful to mosquitoes but humans as well. It almost wiped out the Pelicans on the Island. Some to this day think it is responsible for the many cancer cases on the island.

My fondest recollecti