Lighter Than Air

LTV or Lighter Than Air

Lighter than air is a term that is used for a type aircraft that was once used and is seldom seen these days except at races and ball games. In the 50's the US Navy still used Blimps to patrol the coast. They would fly in low over the coast, low enough at times you could wave at the crew and they would wave back. Most of us are familiar with the with the Goodyear Blimp, but the Goodyear Blimps of today are much smaller versions of the large ZPG ships that the Navy flew. Some as long as 350 feet. They would fly between Weekville Air Station and Florida. Weeksvile I just outside of an d a few miles from Tthe US Coast Guard Air Station at Elizabeth City , NC. The still service the smaller blimps in the remaining hanger. Sure miss the sight of them lumbering along the coast at 50 or 60 knots.

Walking to school!

Back in the old days and they really were since I am writing this at age 60. Anyway back in the old days it was still safe to let your kids even first graders walk the mile or two to the local school. To this very day I can remember many of the sounds and smells that we were accustomed to back then and even miss a little now. There was the 8:00 am steam whistle of the cotton mill that let us know we only had 30 minutes left before we had to be in class. That whistle went silent many years ago when the old cotton mill was closed. Then there was the smell of the paper mill. You really don't want to know what it was like. What you smell from the paper company these days is like a rose garden in comparison. In the spring there was the smell of all things becoming new again and in the fall that smell of coal burning in the school furnace. There was always a pair, apple or plum tree along the way to get a snack and there were always the wild blackberries in the spring. Almost everyone walked to school back then, even in the rain and the rare days it would snow. Yes we went to school if it snowed. Oh yeah you ate breakfast at home and studied at school.

My 6th grade class at Forest Hills School

If you were in this class or can name any one that I can't remember the names I sure would like to hear from you. Many I know that I should know but a half century plays tricks on the ole mind.

Miss Appie Daniels was our teacher that and was one of my favorites of all time. As of January 2014 she is still alive and living with her twin sister in the home they bought years ago. Nether sister ever married and both taught school here in New Hanover County. Sorry to report she is suffering from advanced Alzheimers but is still able to  stay at home with the help of her sister. Both ladies are in their 90s now. 

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My 4th grade class at Forest Hills School

If you were in this class or can name any one that I can't remember the names I sure would like to hear from you. Many I know that I should know but a half century plays tricks on the ole mind.

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My third grade class at Forest Hills School

If you were in this class or can name any one that I can't remember the names I sure would like to hear from you. Many I know that I should know but a half century plays tricks on the ole mind.

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My second grade class at Forest Hills School

If you were in this class or can name anyone that I can't remember the names I sure would like to hear from you. Many I know that I should know but a half century plays tricks on the ole mind. This was the year that our teacher got married and we had to get use to the new name of Fussell.

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My first grade class at Forest Hills School

If you were in this class or can name any one that I can't remember the names I sure would like to hear from you. Many I know that I should know but a half century plays tricks on the ole mind.

Click on picture to make it larger.

The Air Show

When you look back at events in your life that don't seem to be life changing for you at the time, you later realize it may have set a major pattern for the rest of your life. I don't really remember the year but I think it was the late 50s. Back then the New Hanover County Airport still had free air shows and to be honest they were a lot better than the ones that are put on today. Of course the anti military attitude of the late 60s and 70s probably have a lot to do with the condition of the air shows today along with the drastic budget cuts of the 90s. The military just does not have the money to fly in as many aircraft and recruiting dollars go a lot further on television I guess.

Anyway back in those days the USAF Thunderbirds flew the F-100 Super Saber and the Navy Blue Angels flew the F9F-8 Cougars both were good but the Navy team just had that little something extra. Of course I have always been partial to the Cougar and the Navy Blue and Gold. At this air show I don't remember which team was there that year but that isn't the point of the story nor are the aircraft on display. I guess the largest and most impressive was the radar early warning plane, a Navy EC-121P Super Connie. The Super Connie is probably the sleekest plane ever built it reminds me of the dog on the side of the Greyhound bus.

It was about time for the Army Golden Knights to take off and do their thing . They were in a C-123 transport (made popular in the movie Air America) as the plane left the ground the pilot put it into a steep climb as was normal for this display, but this time it was a little to steep and the aircraft stalled and set back down backwards then burst into flames. As I, along with everyone else watched in unbelief at the smoke and flames I was fascinated by the crash crew doing their best to save the people on board and put the fire out. There was a large Air Force crash truck up from Myrtle Beach ABF and a Huskie helicopter. They did the best they could and saved many but still many were lost.

About 10 years later I would be stationed at my first Naval Air Station and spend most of my Navy tour as a fire crash rescueman and 23 years as a civilian firefighter I wonder how much that day had to do with the rest of my life.

* above picture: South Vietnamese paratroopers jump out of a U.S. Air Force Fairchild C-123B Provider (s/n 56-4367) of the 464th Troop Carrier Wing during a training exercise in April 1966. This plane belly-landed at Tau Tieng after being hit by small arms fire on 26 November 1966.

The Bridge

Things that seem so unimportant during one point in life during a later time in life hold some of our sweetest memories. The bridge that crossed Burnt Mill Creek near the railroad tracks is just one of those little unimportant places that takes a little space in my memory that at the time of my youth was just another object that went unnoticed on Mercer Avenue. For me it was where I went to spend many a summer afternoon sitting for hours on the cement side of the bridge about 1/2 mile down the road from my house. I would spend my time watching the small fish swim and water spiders walk across the small stream. Those little long legged critters always amazed me walking on top of the water. We would fish or build a dam out sticks and rocks or what ever was available near by, making a small swimming hole to play in. On a hot summer day there wasn't a cooler spot on Mercer Avenue than the shade of the trees that cast their shadows on the bridge and creek. This part of the creek was extremely shallow except for a few fishing holes on the south side, but in those holes would be frogs, fish, turtles and eels. Of course there was always the chance of a snake but we usually made enough noise the snakes would find quieter spots along the creek to sun themselves. It was great for wading and pretending you were Tom Sawyer or a Marine in the jungles of some South Pacific island. My generation’s heroes were the World War 2 and Korean War veterans. The French were still in a yet unknown country of Vietnam on the other side of the world and war was still a game and the good guys always won and no one was really hurt. My generation would learn in only a few short years in Vietnam that war was real and lasted a lifetime not just in the battles of a jungle, but scars of the mind. I am sure every child that lived on Mercer Avenue and surrounding neighborhoods had similar memories.

Aviation in the 50s

The first time I remember anything about airplanes was when I was around 3 or 4 years old and we were still living on Princess Place Drive. The house was right in the landing pattern for the main runway at the time. There was still what was left of a small airplane that had gone down in the woods between the airport and our house. This was rumored to have crashed sometime during WWII. It was a small single engine plane; probably what the Army called a L-5 or something similar.
After we moved to Mercer Avenue I still could enjoy the sounds of the airport, in those days the aircraft stay low as compared with today’s aircraft. Back then we had two major airlines flying from Wilmington, one was National which would leave Wilmington by the 60's and leave us with only one airline. This airline was Piedmont and back in the 50's they flew the DC-3. On a cool morning you could hear them running the engines up as they prepared to head down the runway. Back in those days you could ride your bicycle over to the airport and actually walk out on the parking area and take pictures if you were careful to stay out of the way. If you went inside the terminal the ticket agents would always be willing to give you a Piedmont Airlines luggage label. Over the years there is no telling how many of these labels were given away and now they are selling from $3.00 on up on EBay. Airports have changed in many ways but some of the things I miss most is the deep throbbing sound of those old rotary engines straining the get those old machines into the air or at night seeing the green and white airport beacon light that could be seen for miles. Now you can hardly see the beacon light if you are at the airport and the planes scream with jet engines and even the ones with props have a high pitched whine of a turbine engine, seldom do you hear the musical sound of a rotary engine these days.

THE FIRE

When I was 7 or 8 years old there was fire in the parsonage of the Baptist church on Mercer Avenue. This happened only a year or two after Pastor Price and his family moved to Wilmington to minister at East Wilmington Baptist Church. The thing I remember about this was it being a summer afternoon. When the alarm was sounded in the neighborhood that there was a fire, everyone ran to the fire to do what ever they could to help. As was the custom in those days the people of the community were busy getting what ever they could carry out of the house to save it from the fire. This was done because most of the neighbors were from the country where there were no organized fire departments, so fires went unchecked. Luckily Mercer was in the city, even if it was the last street in the city in those days. The fire truck had to come from 17th and Dock Street, which was 14 blocks away. By the time the Fire Department arrived most of the living room and dining room furniture was in the front yard. It was a lucky day for everyone, no one was hurt and the fire was quickly extinguished by the fireman with only minor damage to the house.

Now move forward about 15 years the same truck is responding to a furniture store in downtown Wilmington and on this day I was the driver/operator. This was the first fire that I would pump the truck. This old 1939 Seagrave would go on to serve the city for about 40 years.

Nancy Blanchard

Mrs. Blanchard lived 3 houses down from our home on Mercer Avenue in a big two story house on a huge lot across from the church in the early 1950s. She had 3 sons, the oldest was my age so I would go over and play often. I wasn't much more than 4 or 5 years old, but I do remember that I thought she was a nicest and prettiest lady in the neighborhood.
Mrs. Blanchard was very young when she died a tragic death about that time and as in cases like hers there were rumors, but her death and letters she had written my mother helped save my own life later on. When ever I think about her I always think about sitting under a small cluster of trees in her front yard eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and drinking Cool Aid for lunch she would make us. Funny what we remember about our lives when we are 6. They moved soon afterward her death.The house they lived in was owned later by the Groves family and after that I don't know who lived there. By the mid 70s there had been a fire and the house had been torn down and later there were 2 houses built in what had been the front yard.

Miss Janie

Miss Janie was an older lady that lived with Miss Bell from time to time. Never knew much about Miss Janie except she looked to me at that time to be really old maybe 100. I'm sure she wasn't that old but from a kid that had not yet reached 10 years old most people in the world looked old, some just older than others. One day you would be at Miss Bell's little store in the front room of her house and Miss Janie would be there and then maybe a week or maybe a month and she would be gone. As I got older I figured that was the way she had to live. She would stay with family or friends for a while then move on to the next one until she made the full circle. Back then we didn't expect the government to do everything for us, that was what family and friends were for. If you were down on your luck, they helped. In Miss Janie's case I don't know if that was what happened but to a young kid that is what it looked like. Heck, she may have just been visiting a friend, but that doesn't make that good of story does it?.

Forest Hills School

It was the mid 50s and I was now old enough to go to school. My first grade teacher was Miss Spillman and it was her first year teaching. To say the least we did not see hit it off well. I don't know who she thought she was trying to tell me what I could or would do, but she wasn't my mama and I made up my mind I was not going to let her win the contest of wills. As a result of this attitude I got to know Miss Katherine Bissett Von Glahn (31 October 1894 - 4 July 1981) very well that first year. By the way

L to R: Miss Moody,
Miss Von Glahn, Mrs Emma Neuer

Miss Von Glahn was the school principle and her office was up a flight of stairs in the old and main part of the school building. She retired in 1957, wonder if dealing with me might have had something to do with her retiring? I could get there in my sleep and blindfolded by the end of the first month of school. As a result of this contest of wills I stayed in trouble, but that hard headed teacher never broke me or my will. I considered that a victory, but I know you have heard the saying "Win the battle and lose the war" well the following year was spent in Mrs. Brogden's class. Mrs. Brogden was a very good first grade teacher. I enjoyed my second year of school and my second year in the first grade in her class. We always started the day by saying the 23 Psalm and the pledge to the flag. You could do that back then.

Forest Hills was named after the community that it was built in back in the 1920's or 30's I think. There was the main and older building which was a two story building and the newer one story building that was on the back. The newer building was for the first and second grades and the older housed the third through sixth grades and the library, auditorium and old cafeteria. The new section also had a cafeteria that was bright and had lots of windows and was connected to the old cafeteria by what looked like a garage door. The old cafeteria was in what had been the basement of the main building and was dark and directly under the auditorium. Always liked it best, because that is where the big kids got to eat.

We lived little over a mile from the school and I got to walk to and from school every day (you could do that back then). Right behind the school was Spofford Mill an old cotton mill and each morning it would blown the mill whistle at 8 AM and you would know it was time to quit playing along the way to school and hurry on to school so as not to be late.

Forest Hills Elementary 1950

Back then you had things like mill whistles and Civil Defense sirens that let you know what time it was and that the world was still safe. Each morning at 8 AM the Mill whistle would blow so you new it was time to start work and on Saturday the Civil Defense Siren would blow at noon so you knew it was lunch and then Sunday there was always church bells. At night there was the light from the airport that revolved like a lighthouse but it was first white and then green and it could be seen for miles not like the weak beacon they have today that can hardly be seen at the airport.

At recess I would sometime sneak off the play ground into the woods beside the school and spent the entire recess looking at the stones in the old Delgado Graveyard that made me feel like Tom Sawyer. Then after school when it was warm I would sometimes stop to play in the creek before going on home. Back then your parents didn't worry if you were a little late getting home, they knew that you were probably playing along the way or stopped at Mrs. Bell's Store for a 5 cent Coke and a piece of penny candy. By the way those York Peppermint Paddies you pay a quarter for, was penny candy.

Cemetery in Taylor's Field

The first time I remember going to the old graveyard in Taylor's field was in the late 50's and even then it looked like it had been abandoned for sometime. It was in the edge of the woods on a hill just past the field that was used for farming back then. At one time there was a dirt road that ran near the cemetery, you can see it on old aerial photos of the area. It was located about what would be 2 city blocks east of Live Oak Avenue (now Covil) between Market Street and the ACL railroad tracks. Now the city has allowed HUD apartments to be built on most of what was the graveyard, but a small portion has been set aside with a marker. The marker says there are 10 unmarked graves there. As best I can remember there were still more headstones than that in early 70s but that would be hard to prove without photos. I remember many obvious grave sites that had sunken in over the years. some without headstones to mark the graves. What the city has marked off as what was the cemetery is less than half of what was there when I was a kid in the 50's. This is the same cemetery that was know as the Indian Burial Grounds and Skipper Graveyard. I have no idea what the real name is. I doubt that any Indians were ever buried there. That name probably came about because of its location in the woods and that made it more interesting to the children that played in those woods.

The Picture above shows the cemetery as it looks today (May 2006). To the left is what the city claims was the entire cemetery, to right where the apartment sits is the half that was dug up to make room for the apartment. There were several remains dug in the process of building the apartments. At the back of the photo there is a wood fence hiding a parking lot of more apartments. The best that I can remember there would have been graves there also. As with Saint Mary's Place on Market Street and 16th and 17th Street extensions in the 1960s and Seagate in the 70s a little thing like someone's final resting place did not stop people from making money by building on a cemetery in New Hanover County.

Delgado Cemetery

I think the first time I remember anything about Delgado Cemetery was when I was at Forest Hills School around 1956 or 57. I was in the first or second grade and during recess I noticed a path in the woods and at the other end of the path I saw an old fence. Of course being a kid I could not leave this new mystery unsolved so I looked around to make sure no one was watching and quickly ducked into the woods and followed the path. Sure enough at the other end of the path was an old fence and on the other side was some tombstones. Even back then the cemetery was mostly overgrown and just right for the exploring of a young boy who had just read Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn. Just imagine all the adventure this graveyard could hold.

The above picture was taken in January of 2006 and shows county contractors cleaning the cemetery. It is a great improvement over the first time I saw it. All the graves were covered in bushes and underbrush and day light could hardly break through the foliage.

Springs of Water

One of the things that always amazed me growing up were the natural springs of water that seemed to be everywhere in our area, but in reality I only remember two of these springs. One was near the railroad tracks about 50 yards from the creek. It was back in the woods and came up out of the ground from under a cypress tree and emptied into a small pool next to the tree then overflowed and ran in a small stream to the creek right next to the railroad. The hole beside the tree was about 4 foot across and probably 8 or 10 feet deep. You could see an old 55 gallon drum at the bottom. From the shape and looks of the hole it was probably a well at one time.

The other was behind a house on Wayne Drive about 75 yards from the same creek and it also came out from under a cypress tree and flowed into the creek. The last time I saw it the people that lived in the house had damned the stream up and made a small pond in the backyard. As far as I know it is still there.

Mr. Johnny

Mr. Johnny lived two house south of us on Mercer Avenue back in the 1950s. His children were grown by the time we moved into the neighborhood. His name was Johnny Sanders, but all I ever knew him by was Mr. Johnny. He was the type of neighbor that everyone should be, a good friend and always ready to help when needed. He was a carpenter by trade, back when it was a craft and everything was done by hand, no power tools.

The picture is of his family in the front room of their house on Mercer (left to right: Mr. Johnny, John Jr., Wife Estelle, Carl and Louise). The best I can remember it had 3 bedrooms, kitchen, living room, den and bath. They also had a 2 car garage and small shop out back and behind it was his garden. That garage always held a fascination to me. I would spend hours playing in it.

Sometime in the late 50s he built a house way out in the country near the NC Highway Patrol station on Market Street. After he moved we would still go visit from time to time, but we could always see him on Saturday mornings when he would come by to empty the slop bucket. For those of you that don't know what a slop bucket is or is for I'll tell you. Setting on the ground at the back steps of the house we had a 5 gallon can with a lid. After each meal we would put the scraps in the bucket. Mr. Johnny would collect all the scraps once a week and feed his hogs with them the following week. I know that is a far cry from the way we raise hogs today, but believe me the meat was a lot better back then.

Aunt Vic

I could not have been more than 5 or 6 when Aunt Vic passed away. Aunt Vic wasn't really any kin but everyone in the neighborhood called her Aunt. What I remember most was that she was the older lady in the neighborhood that all the younger women went to when they needed a home remedy. This was back when doctors still made house calls and knew you by your first name. Her remedies probably saved us many a trip into town for a visit to the doctor and him a trip or two out to the edge of town. She lived down close to the railroad tracks which was near the creek. Now one afternoon my mother and I walked down the road to Aunt Vic's house. As we passed Myrt Faison we could see Aunt Vic setting on her porch. Getting closer we could see she was eating something and of course she offered us some. Well we sat down and got us a leg of chicken and just as I started to bite into mind I heard Aunt Vic say something about the boys getting the frogs at the creek the night before. Now I heard this just in time to save me from biting into that leg that wasn't chicken. Them things are for hopping and not eating. After that Aunt Vic would always greet me with a smile and "Want some frog legs son". I don't know who has had more fun from that, Her picking at me or me remembering her smile when she would ask me.

A few pictures from my youth

Catching the Train

The old Atlantic Coast Line Railroad tracks crossed Mercer Avenue about halfway between Market Street and Wrightsville Avenue. The Blantons lived on the south side and Mr Russian lived on the north.

We would go down to the railroad bridge, an area we spent a lot of time play and on lazy summer day for a little excitement we would run along the side of a boxcar grab the ladder and pull ourselves up. The train was moveing very slow because of the area it was traveling through. Hanging on to the ladder on the side we would ride about a mile and jump off.The train was moving at a slow pace this far, not much faster than we could run, but if you made the mistake of not getting off before Pearsall Fertilizer you would be in trouble. From here the tracks were striaght and once the train crossed Kerr Avenue it started picking up a little speed. Kerr Avenue was your last chance, because the next crossing was Market Street and once the engine passed that point he was picking up road speed and the next stop was Jacksonville. Once we jumped train at Pearsall we would head back through the woods to the graveyard in Taylor's field. That is another story in itself.

Aunt Lottie

Our home at 342 Mercer Avenue has been in our family for generations. Originally located at 132 Mercer Avenue, we moved in back in 1954 to a house built in 1930 with all the amenities one could ask for - three bedrooms, a kitchen, a den, a living room, and a bathroom. Our family has created many happy memories within these walls, and we are proud to call it our home.

However, before our family became its owners, the house was inhabited by a woman named Aunt Lottie, who was not related to us. Although we didn't know her personally, there were rumors that she passed away in the house. Even after all these years, Aunt Lottie's presence is still felt in the house, and it adds to the unique character of our home.

One thing that has always stood out to us is Aunt Lottie's frequent handwashing habits. She would wash her hands so frequently that it became a topic of conversation among the people who knew her. Even now, we can still hear the sound of the water running in the bathroom where she used to wash her hands. It's a little spooky at times, but it's also a reminder of the history and legacy of our home.

Despite its quirks and eerie atmosphere, we love our home and cherish the memories we've created here. It's a special place that has been a part of our family for generations, and we hope to continue to pass it down for many generations to come.

Ham Radio

About the time we got our first TV, my best friend's father got his Amateur Radio License. His call sign was K4RVE, strange the tidbits we remember. Mr. Walker worked at the Atlantic Coast Line Railroad (at that time the home offices were in Wilmington). After work each day he would go into his radio room and enjoy his hobby. The only problem was that in those days TV's had very little filtering to stop interference and of course when he would transmit you could see it on our TV screen across the street. You could read the dots and dashes of the morse code as good as if you were in front of a shortwave receiver. These signals always amazed me because I new I was seeing what was one half of a conversation that might be with someone on the other side of the world. This small nuisance to some peaked my interest in radio which eventually would lead to me working in the amateur radio industry for 16 years and getting an Extra Class Amateur License. To this day I am still amazed and thrilled to hear a person on the other side of the globe with just a little copper wire and a few watts having a conversation with me with nothing but air connecting us.

The picture is of an antenna Mr Walker was building out of copper wire and bamboo poles.

Out First TV

It much have been around 1955 when we got our first TV not long after the first TV station was put on the air in Wilmington. There was a lot of snow in the picture not outside, which you people that have never watched anything but digital or cable probably have no idea how lucky you are, because everything was analog in those days. You only had one channel to watch and it was WMFD Channel 6 and everything was in black and white. Not much to the programming ether, just the fact you could see a picture was entertainment enough back then. With in a few years we had Howdy Doody and Buffalo Bob, Pinky Lee, The Lone Ranger, Mighty Mouse, etc. Some of the local favorite were Ben McDonald giving his version of the news and advertising BMF to cure baldness, Wayne Jackson and the sports and Jim Burns doing the weather and his Bermuda High. Then there was the Jim Burns Show at 12 noon each day. Now that was a talk show the whole family could watch. Sure wish we could get some local programming to match that now.

Do you remember these people?

Do you remember?

Mrs Bell's Store
K D Lee Walk
The chicken fights
The railroad bridge
Delgado Cemetery
The name of the cemetery in Taylor's field
Forest Hills School

Do you remember these people?

Mrs Bell
Miss Janie
Aunt Kate
Aunt Vic
Fred Kelly
Paul Mull
Myrt Fasion
Johnny Sanders
Nancy Blanchard

Tell us about some of the memories these people and places bring back.

Me and my Cousin

The picture is of my cousin Glenda and me in front of our 1956 Ford. I always looked forward to visits with her, maybe because we nether of us had brothers or sister to play with or just having kin my own age around. When they came to our house in the summer it always meant a visit to the beach and when we went to their house there was a little league ball park at the end of their street that seemed to always have a game going on. They lived in Grifton so during my summer visits we would go to Kinston to swim in the city pool. It didn't take me long to realize salt water is a lot more boyent. I still remember the bird dog they had name Lady.

Seven Springs Reunion

This was back around 1966 and probably one of if no the last out door Curtis Jackson Family Reunion. They may still have been holding meetings in the church but I doubt it. I remember it was hot and I got the keys to our car and was setting in it running the AC and listening to the radio. The meal had long since been finished and the grown ups (adults) were standing around catching up on old times. A few had stepped across the street to the cemetery where some family members were buried. The only one I knew that was buried there was my Uncle Theodore (my mother's brother)who had died suddenly only a couple of years before. As I set there steam started to come from the motor compartment and the car was over heating. Back then if you ran the AC in a lot of the cars you had better be moving. I thought I had blown the car up and that I was soon to be buried in the cemetery myself. Luckily there was no serious damage and the only thing that happened was I got the keys taken away and was just a little embarrassed.

When Mercer was dirt

It must have been around 1952 when we first moved from our house on Princess Place Drive to Mercer Avenue. At that time Mercer was the last street in the city. It was a long dirt road between Market Street and Wrightsville Avenue. On the corner of Market and Mercer was Brock's Grocery and on the other end of Mercer at Wrightsville was another grocery store that would later be owned by Mr. Strong. There were a number of dirt roads and paths along Mercer that joined it to Live Oak Avenue (now Covil), Wayne Drive and Forest Hills Drive. All but one of these are gone now and that one is Wakefield Drive. Mercer no longer crosses the creek where us kids spent many a day playing and fishing. In the name of progress the bridge was removed and Mercer was redirected into a new 4 lane Independence Blvd. and Randell Parkway. One of my fond memories is of being a young father back in the 70s taking my wife and daughter for a walk down that creek that I had play in when I was a child.

The picture in this section shows my father and mother on what must have been a Sunday morning coming home from church. The picture is taken from the lot beside our house which later would be were Charles and Louise Cannon would build there home. Directly behind them is a vacant lot, which to this day is still vacant.The house belonged to Mr. and Mrs. Walker, it is still there. Only a few years later the road would be paved.

A Day at the Movies.

Back years ago my cousin was taking care of me and another cousin while my mother was at work. She could not have been more than 12 at the time and my other cousin and me were slightly younger, me being the youngest. It was one of those warm summer days that all windows and doors were wide open, so walking by the house you could see all the way through the house into the backyard. We did worry about people stealing things in those days. Even if they did steal something about all you had for some one to take was a radio and a little food. It was a much simpler time. Anyway on this day we decided to go down town to the movies, so we walked 1/2 mile or so to Market Street to catch the city bus downtown. Me and my 2 girl cousins in all our wisdom settled on a horror show. Don't remember the name or which movie house it was showing. We only had 3 theaters then, the Manor, Colony and the Bailey. I don't remember anything being thrown from a balcony, so it may have been showing at the Manor since the Manor was the only one that didn't have a balcony. After being scared half to death we got back on the bus for a ride back to what at that time was the last street in the city. Got off the bus a Brock's Grocery and walked the half mile back to my house. This is were the problem surfaced. Being a warm summer day we had left the doors and windows open so that anyone that wanted to could walk in. Nothing unusual about that, except after the movie there was one problem. Who was going into the house first? We all knew the first one in would die, because one of the movies killers had to be hiding in the house somewhere. My 2 older cousins being girls certainty were not brave enough to go in first and me being the only boy was way to smart to go in. So here we are standing on the front porch not knowing what to do. I'm not sure which one of us came up with the smartest solution, but we all settled on waiting for my mother to come home from work and let her go in first. We all knew that mother's can whip any movie monster. So here we were, the 3 of us, setting safely on the porch when my mother came home. She went in the house and got rid of the monsters and killers. After the all clear we went in and had a supper of fried squash and pinto beans.

Easter mid 50's

This picture was taken probably around 1956 on what I am sure was Easter Sunday. Front row left to right is Billy Hales and Stanley Outlaw. Back row left to right is Floyd Harrell, Robert Costin and Ernest Outlaw. Billy and Stanley are the only ones in this picture that are still with us. Floyd was killed in an explosion on the Cape Fear River 10 December 1960, I heard Robert died of cancer in 1989, Ernest died of heart disease 17 June 1980.

The picture was taken at the Outlaw house at what was then 132 Mercer Avenue. The house had about 3 to 4 feet of front yard and then you were in the street. When the street was paved in the early 50's they did not leave much of a yard. The good thing was back then there wasn't much traffic on Mercer, other than going to work in the mornings and coming home in the afternoon.

Trip in the Country

One of my favorite things to do on the weekend was to get in the family car with my parents and go to the country. Many times the trip to the country would lead us to the Scott's Store / Outlaw's Bridge part of eastern North Carolina to see my father's family. Just across the woods from Mount Olive and Seven Springs where my mother's family was from. My father's parents died within a month of each other when he was about 7 years old. So his younger brother Harvey, older sister Callie and him were raised by his spinster Aunt Mattie and her twin sister Addie. Aunt Addie died in the 1940s before I was born so I never got to know here.

The picture shows Aunt Callie in the black dress and Aunt Mattie with the white apron on sitting in the sitting room of Aunt Mattie's home, which is still standing today (07/May/2009). About all I remember about Aunt Mattie was our last visit before she passed away. She was bedridden and near death because of several strokes. That seems to be the way the majority of us Outlaw's leave this world.

As usual I spent a lot of time rumageing around the barn and out buildings to see what a city boy could get into. I had been in the barn a number of times in the past but I was to find something new this time. There were the usual tools, cans of oil, chickens and other things, but I notice there had been a half wall built at one end of the barn. As I got closer I could hear something on the other side of the wall. So I looked for something to stand on and as luck would have it there was an old bench close by. I pulled the bench over and stood on it. It was just high enough for me to grab the top of the wall and pull up and look over the edge. Just as I peered over the wall I heard the most awful squeel and grunt that I had ever heard. Less than a two feet away and no more than a foot below me was the largest hog I have ever seen. That thing was the size of a cow and as ugly and mean looking as any hog I have ever seen. My heart stopped but my feet didn't. When I got to the house one of the adults asked me what was wrong. Not thinking, instead of saying I was scared by a snake or a bear I told them the truth. Everyone got a good laugh but me. I neverwent back in that barn and it is still there and still have no urge to go there.

The Ole Grape Arbor

It was a Sunday afternoon one spring years ago before many people had air conditioning. My Uncle Harvey (daddy's younger brother) and his family were down from Fort Bragg (Spring Lake) and we were all over at my Aunt Callie's (daddy's older sister) and Uncle Bill's house on Live Oak Avenue, now Covil Avenue, for Sunday visit and lunch. After lunch all the men would head out to the backyard to sit under the grape arbor and later after the was cleaned the women would join them and just talk and smoke cigarettes while us kids played near by. They would talk about politics, friends and when they were children. Sure wish I could remember some of those conversations, but when you are a kid those conversation don't seem worth listening to.. The grape arbor I remember being held up by 4 huge railroad cross ties (drug from the near by railroad track after they were changed out for newer ones) probably about 8 foot apart with the vine growing up in the center. Now those were the days. The picture doesn't do justice to what the arbor looked like in the 50's.

Aunt Lanie's Dream

Aunt Lanie's Church in East Wilmington

Fred Kelly was the first full time preacher at East Wilmington Baptist Church, but we need to go back even before then to who actually started the church. Aunt Lanie always want to have a Baptist church in East Wilmington, so she started by teaching Sunday School to all the children in the neighborhood around Mercer and Live Oak Avenue (Covil today). From this small beginning East Wilmington Baptist Church was started. Sometime in the early 50’s of late 40’s Fred Kelly was hired by the church to be their first preacher. At that time the church was a Missionary Baptist church and would stay that way until the early 60’s went it joined the Southern Baptist Conference. I don’t remember a lot about Preacher Kelly except that he was well respected and liked by everyone. He left around 1954 or 1954 and then Dan Page was hired to preach. Shortly after his arrival the church built the new larger brick sanctuary. Gone was the little white wood church. After Pastor Page left, Paul Mull came and stayed as preacher for about 2 years. Then C. R Price came and stayed for about 35 years. Not long before his retirement the church built the fellowship hall that they now meet in. After Preacher Price retired the church fell on hard times under his replacement. For reasons only know to a few the name was changed to Charity.

I know my dates maybe off and that a lot has been left out. So it is up to you the reader to fill in the gaps and make the corrections with your comments. Your comments are what I will use to update this story.

Mrs. Bell's Store

The story of Mrs. Bell's Store is a tale of warmth, kindness, and a bygone era of small family-run businesses. She was a beloved elderly lady who ran a small store on Mercer Avenue during the 1950s and 1960s. Despite her age, she was still cherished by the children in the neighborhood. Mrs. Bell moved to Mercer from 13th Street in the late 40s or early 50s, after losing her husband in the 1930s and living alone ever since. She was known for keeping chickens and had a beautiful garden behind her house. Her front porch was a popular spot for kids to play and enjoy refreshing drinks like Golden Girl Colas, Sun Drop, and True Aid Oranges, which only cost 5 cents back then.

Back then, a quarter was enough to buy you a honey bun, peanuts, and a drink. Everyone's favorite was Mrs. Bell's jar of sour pickles, which they would all share using the same fork. Air conditioning was a luxury, making the drinks feel even colder. Today, Mrs. Bell's house still stands as a testament to the small, family-run businesses of the past. However, her store has been closed for many years, and the sound of children's laughter no longer echoes through its walls.

Mrs. Bell passed away in her 80s while living in a nursing home. Her half-brother was looking after her and her estate. She was buried next to her husband in Bellevue Cemetery. Although her store no longer operates, her legacy of kindness and warmth continues to be remembered and cherished by those who knew her.

Myrt Faison

Miss Myrt. She lived on Mercer back in the 1950s. I don’t remember a lot about her, but what little I do has impressed me all my life. She was a large black (colored in those days) lady that was always happy with a big friendly smile and willing to always give a helping hand. Sometime in the 50s she moved with her son to a little house on Princess Place Drive. It seems I remember her husband died early in the 50s. I only remember seeing her one time after she moved, it was around 1974. I was on the Wilmington Fire Department and was station at the station just down the street from her home. One afternoon we were responding to an alarm in Creekwood and passed her house. There she was as we passed, sitting on her porch with that big smile. She died in 1987, not long after my mother had paid a visit to her. My mother tried to get me to go visit her but I was to busy being young and by the time I found time it was to late. That is one of the many regrets in my life. She is buried at the Flemington Oakgrove Cemetery.

Mr. Robin's Store

Mr. Robbins Store was about 2 blocks north of Mr. Brocks Store at mercer and Market. Mr. Robbins Store was on the southwest corner of what is now Market and Darlington Avenue. At that time It was not named Darlington and was just a one lane dirt trail that ran from Market to Live Oak (Covil) just north of the railroad tracks. This was the road used to get to the cemetery in Taylor's field.

Back to the store. I don't remember a lot about the store except it had those old time fans hanging from the ceiling and fly strips. The picture is of me standing at the double back doors looking out across the dirt trail to where the North 17 Drive in was. Remember going to the movies and watching them from your car. There was another dirt road between the store and Live Oak. Does anyone remember it's name or anyone that lived on it? I think one family was the Hornes. There were only 2 or 3 house down that road.

Hurricanes and Such

Here I sit looking out the window at the rain and wind waiting for another hurricane to hit our area. Luckily this one has already been downgraded to a tropical storm. I have been through to many to remember all the names. Let’s see? There was Fran, Bonnie, Dennis, Hugo, Diane, Carol and HAZEL. There have been others but those are the ones I can remember right now. Hazel was the first one I remember and was really to young to be worried about what might happen. I do seem to remember that during the eye we went over to Aunt Callie's house on Live Oak Avenue. We took the path that was between Sam Well’s and Mrs. Parker’s houses. After the storm as we walked down Mercer there were trees in the street everywhere along with downed power lines. Now I say this was Hazel but I am sure it is a combination of memories of all the hurricanes that I went through as a kid on Mercer Avenue. As anyone that has ever been in this area of the country when a hurricane threatens, Hazel is the storm that all others are measured by. Her winds where strong but the storm tides were even worse coming in on a full moon high tide.