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I hope by sharing memories of my earlier years in the part of Wilmington, NC that was once know as East Wilmington and the part of New Hanover County that was Masonboro Sound you will have an idea of what the South was like during the 1950s and 1960s. The stories are from 50+ year old memories so in some cases they may not be completely accurate, but my intention is to be as accurate as posible. ESO

he 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.
d a L-5 or something similar.
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.
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.
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 |
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| Forest Hills Elementary 1950 |
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.
ing 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.
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.
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 bedr
ooms, 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.
hen 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.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.
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.
Do you remember these people?
Mrs Bell
Miss Janie
Aunt Kate
Aunt Vic
Fred Kelly
Paul Mull
Myrt Fasion
Johnny Sanders
Nancy Blanchard
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.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.
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.
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.
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 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.
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.
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.
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.