Floyd

Floyd Harrell was my cousin, he was about 10 years older than me. I don't remember a lot about Floyd other than he was always nice to me and included me in  a lot of things he didn't have to, especially since he was  older than me. He was my father's sister's son. They lived the next street over from Mercer on Live Oak which is called Covil now. He attended Forest Hills, Chestnut and New Hanover High School.

By the picture at the left you can see that there was a few years difference in our ages. Even after Floyd married Lynn and they had a baby girl  he still treated me like a brother and included me in on lots of things. There was the sports car he had that he would take me riding in. A light blue TR3 and then there was the time I got to go down to the river where he worked he gave me a tour of the pusher tug  "Dam Yank". For a kid not yet a teenager that was really a big deal to be treated like an equal. But then that is the our family was. I was always treated like a brother by him and his sister Nancy. Of all my aunts, uncles and cousins they were and still are my favorites. Sorry to say at my age now only Nancy and I are still alive and I don't keep as close contact as I should with her, but I just don't seem to be able to get close to people these days like I once did.

We lost Floyd first in a barge explosion on the Cape Fear River in the early 60s. Then my father in 1980. In 1992 my wife of 20 years and I split. about 5 years later I married my childhood sweetheart. Then Uncle Bill passed away and next it was Aunt Callie And finally my mother and current wife's parents. That is the bad part about getting older, many of those you love leave you, sometimes by choice and sometimes not by choice. But it can cause you to put up a wall to keep from getting to close to people. Then if I had never known these people what a loss it would have been for me.

Floyd had a little Cushman or maybe it was a Sears scooter at one time and that is probably the reason I have had years of fun riding motorcycles and still do.

Sure do miss him and the rest of the family, but that is the way life is, so we better enjoy and spend as much time as we can with those we love here on earth until that time that we are all together again in Heaven.

Going to work with Daddy

My father drove a truck for a living, not a long haul tractor trailer, but a non tractor trailer type. He had a regular route that took him from Wilmington to Lumberton twice a week. It made for a long day because he stopped at almost every little  mom and pop store between the two towns and in those days every little cross roads had one or two stores. Many of these were as close as across the road from each other. He would work his way to Lumberton on Monday getting there around 6  o'clock and would spend the night in the Goodyear Hotel in downtown. My guess is it was probably the only hotel there in those days. Then Tuesday he would work his way back to Wilmington. Wednesday would be a short work day going just a little ways up highway 87 turning around just short of Carver's Creek and back to Wilmington getting home about 6. Then back to Lumberton on Thursday and home on Friday. It was hard work but he never complained even though the trucks he drove didn't A/C or automatic transmissions. Even though this was back before there were special days set aside to bring your kids to work he would take me with him 4 or 5 times a year. Sometimes between stops that were close together he would let me ride in the back of the truck. I can close my eyes now and smell the fresh meat that he delivered, much of it had only been processed the day before. During the tobacco season when we would spend the night in Lumberton I would wake up to the sound of the tobacco auctioneer chanting his bids and the smell of fresh cured tobacco. Seemed that was all that they had in Lumberton back then. Never have been able to understand how something could smell so good and then stink and taste so bad when smoked. Probably the reason I never took up the habit. I will cherish these memories of going to work with my father for as long as my memory holds onto this world. Watching him work taught me something that regular father and son outing just can’t do.

1960 the year my world changed

It was 1962 1960 a milestone for me as well as Wilmington the town I grew up in. I was one of the big kids at school being in the 6th grade at Forest Hills School, but things were getting ready to change. 1963 I would be at Chestnut Street Jr High and at the bottom of the pile being in the 7th grade. To make things worse it would be a larger school and many of my childhood friends would no longer be going to school with me. Some would go to one of the other Jr high schools but many would leave Wilmington for good. 1962 1960 was the year that the Atlantic Coast Line Railroad would be moving to it's new home office in Jacksonville, FL and taking many of my friends with it. For me the transition wasn't easy and for the town losing it's biggest employer was a disaster which some might say it has never really over come. Yes we have grown and have many new companies to employee workers, but we lost something that year that has never been regained. Up until the Atlantic Coast Line left it seemed Wilmington was just one large family. Maybe because every one ether worked or a member of the family, or neighbor worked there. The old office buildings took up over 2 city blocks of 2 and 3 story buildings not counting the passenger terminal and freight offices and ware houses. With it all figured in they covered nearly a third of what is now the downtown area. This was all vacant now and soon after passenger service ended and by the mid 60s the Hotel Wilmington would also close. It was one of the tallest buildings downtown. What I remember about it was those revolving doors.