Waldrop, quite a few years
dlsi* ■
back, displayed capricious
candor when he advertised a
very low piece of land located
on Neuse river in the James
City section. “Buy it at high
tide, and get a free barrel of
fish,” promised Harlowe.
No one ever accused him of
working to the point of
,3idiaustion. He considered life
at aleisurely pace the best way
to travel from the cradle to the
grave, and Middle Street to him
was a place to stop and talk for
a jqiell.
Maybe he didn’t accomplish
much, in terms of material
success, but there appeared to
be little that was evil in this
man. While others relied
heavily on thorns M criticism,
he seemed content to scatter
what he considered humor.
Afellow could lose time, if he
nothing up with H. C. Waldrop,
it truthfully most of us
(Continued on page*h)
The NEW BERN
r.
PUBLISHED WEEKLY
IN THE HEART 6P
north
VOLUME 15
NEW BERN, N. C. 28560, FRIDAY, OCTOBER 6, 1972
number 30
There’s little in the good old
days that h(dds appeal for me,
though others crave a life an
tique, ru let the present be I
wouldn’t trade electric lights
for candles or fw lamps, ap
pendicitis is no worse than what
was stomach cramps.
The modem maid in stream
lined garb to me is quite
romantic, but if she had a hoop
skirt on, her hugs would drive
one frantic The running
water at our house is better than
a well And bath tubs trump
those wooden vats when Ma
scrubbed little Nell.
Yet, there is one exception, if
I could have my way I’d bring
those old fire horses back from
shrouded yesterday One
night, when station bells rang
out, forth from a ghostly stall
would charge Big Ben and Jim
and Fred, in answer to the call.
I’d see them tremble as they
stood in their appointed places,
whUe drivers quickly hooked
the straps that held them to the
traces Then down the street,
with wild-eyed speed, Oiey’d
rush to do their duty, Aough it
would be a mercy trip, it still
would smack of beauty.
Dumb animals aren’t short of
sense, and these old horses
knew that someone at a burning
home was praying they’d c(mie
through And come through,
friend, they always did.
regardless of the run, until God
tapped them each in turn, and
whispered, “Rest, well done.”
Perhaps I’ve got a small boy’s
heart, that never did grow up,
or maybe I’ve been drinking
deep from memory’s golden
cup This much I’ll sav in
tribute to old Jim and Fred and
Ben, it would be warming to our
heart to see them run again.
Thoughts While Strolling:
Few wUl disagree that H. C.
(Harlowe) Waldixqp, who joked
to the last diring his terminal
illness at Fayetteville’s
Veterans Hospital, was one of
New Bern’s truly whimsical
characters.
He looked forward to
receiving his copy of The Mirror
each'w^, and from time to
time we found witty letters from
him in our mailbra, addressed
to the “Soul” Ekiitor, as he
chose to label us.
UNPREDICTABLE—Ask any old timer and he’ll
tell you that there never was another like Kirhy
HIgbe, who got his early seasoning for Major
League starclom with New Bern’s Coostal Plain
League Bears in the Thirties. A sensational pitcher,
he was goofier than Gomez and dizzier than Dean,
on and off the diamond. Such as drlvbig on the
sidewalk in our downtown business section, and
convincing a City Court judge he WBS trying to
escape a woman driver. Once this editor double
dated with him, and the kook had a line that just
wouldn’t quit. Could he pitch? Well, he won 20
g ames in one season for the last place Phillies,
efore Brooklyn made a deal for him. Who was his
hunting companion after he reached the Majors?
None other than that immortal novelist, Ernest
Hemingway.