liwMO&KM
Edward M. Sweatt and Carolyn H. Sweatt Publishers
Edward M. Swcatt ,\ Editor
Lynn S. Carlson Managing Editor
Susan Usher JVetos Editor
Doug Rutter Sports Editor
Eric Carlson Staff Writer
Mary Potts & Peggy Earwood Office Managers
Carolyn H. Sweatt Advertising Director
Tlmberley Adams. Cecelia Gore
and Linda Cheers Advertising Representatives
Dorothy Brennan and Brenda Clemmons Moore ..Graphic Artists
William Manning Pressman
Lonnle Sprinkle .Assistant Pressman
David White Photo Technician
PAGE 4 -A, THURSDAY, DECEMBER 23, 1993
Asking For A Little More
In The Season Of Giving
It really is all about giving, this season when we celebrate the
birth of the ultimate gift.
There are many in our community who can gratefully say
that it's not just a holiday phenomenon, this willingness of
neighbors to rally for others who need their help.
Just ask the family of Detective David Crocker, or baby Brett
Flaccavento or little Jessica Clemmons, the two-year-old born
without eyes.
Ask Amanda Scoggins, the Supply teen whose legs were
crushed and later repaired after a school bus accident in March.
Or every client of Lower Cape Fear Hospice, or the hundreds
of families who have received a little help from neighbors they
don't even know, through the Brunswick County Volunteer and
Information Center.
Ask the children treated to toys and shoes and coats and a
special restaurant meal, courtesy of groups as diverse as a
loosely organized group of motorcyclists and the Fraternal Order
of Folice.
Or the rape victims of Bosnia, taken on as a project by a
group of Brunswick County women who knitted and sewed
baby blankets and clothes, filled "ditty bags" and wrote checks
to send to a safe home operated by an apolitical North Carolina
missionary ministry.
Ask the residents of the Mississippi River floodplain who,
through the efforts of a local woman, received boxes of goods
from Brunswick County givers to replace some of what they lost
in the summer's devastating floods.
Or every adult or child treated to the gift of learning through
a volunteer literacy tutor. Or any hospital patient or nursing
home resident who had a volunteer stop by for a game of
checkers or a chat.
Ask any woman who found shelter and comfort at Hope
Harbor Home.
There were dozens more efforts through churches, clubs and
individuals, serving thousands more people in need. These are
simply the ones that got attention and that come to this writer's
mind.
As the season of giving reaches its peak and the new year
approaches, we wish for that generous spirit to spread, to find its
way into our politics, race relations and even into our own
homes, where it is sometimes lacking the most, despite our
willingness to express kindness to strangers.
It's a lot to ask, and much too much to expect, but that's the
beauty of the Christmas season. It makes us feel obliged to hope,
to replace our cynicism with at least momentary faith.
LETTERS TO THE EDITOR
Shallotte School Bell
Choir 'Remarkable Joy '
To the editor:
Have you heard the hell choir
from Shallotte Middle School under
the direction of Mrs. Atheda Lusk
Watson? If not, you have missed one
of the remarkable musical joys of
the Christmas season.
My wife and I were delighted by
this talented, well-trained group of
7th and 8th-grade students recently
when they performed at Seaside
United Methodist Church. After
they had played several selections,
one man in the audience exclaimed,
"Does your school know how good
you are?"
As a former public school educa
tor I've heard many musical per
forming groups at this grade level,
but none better. This bell choir is an
excellent example of what young
people can accomplish under the
guidance of an exceptional, dedicat
ed teacher who is given the re
sources and time she needs to do her
work.
Congratulations to each of the
students, to Mrs. Watson, the Shal
lotte Middle School and the Bruns
wick schools.
Richard Good
Sunset Beach
'Sanity At Stake '
To the editor:
(Brunswick County Planning Dir
ector) John Harvey put together a
noise ordinance bill. It was present
ed to the commissioners to be acted
on at the Aug. 16, 1993, meeting.
I strongly support the noise ordi
nance bill. I am not alone in my
feelings about noise pollution.
Something must be done about the
unreasonable noise in Brunswick
County.
I live in a senior citizens' mobile
home development in the Seaside
area. Sometime in November, a
sports club and bar was opened in
this area. The band starts to play at
9:30 p.m. until 1:30 a.m. The place
of business is 120 yards from my
mobile home.
Needless to say, my sanity is at
stake because of the unreasonable
noise.
With this in mind 1 would like to
know what the status is on the pro
posed noise ordinance. I was in
formed it was tabled at the Aug. 16
commissioners' meeting.
Tom Singleton
Seaside
(More Letters, Following Page)
Write Us
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P.O. Box 25S8
ShallotteNC 28459
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published.
Worth Repeating...
Glory to God in the highest, and earth peace, good
will toward men.
? Luke 2:14
The Christmas That Shouldn't Have Happened
Here's a different kind of Christ
mas story. It's tragic and grisly and,
in a perversely comforting kind of
way, it serves to remind us that de
spite all appearances, the world isn't
going insane. It's always been that
way; maybe it's part of the grand
plan.
It was Christmas Day 1929 and
blood stained the snow at the Law
son farm at Germanton, a communi
ty on the Forsyth-Stokes county line
north of Winston-Salem. Before the
sun would set, eight jieople would
be dead in an act of insane rage, the
kind of behavior we too often mis
characterized as a post- 1960s phe
nomenon.
There were no Christmas decora
tions and no gifts in the Lawson
farmhouse that holiday. But a week
before, 43-year-old Charlie Lawson
had taken his wife and eight children
to Winston-Salem to buy them new
clothes and have a family portrait
made.
If you saw that photograph with
out knowing what Charlie did, per
haps you wouldn't notice the tenta
tive look in the eyes of the Lawson
family. Perhaps you'd mistake it for
the stoic expression common in pho
tographs made back when people
had to sit still without even breath
ing to have their picture taken.
Charlie Lawson cracked on
Christmas Day 1929. Sometime in
the early afternoon he chased 12
year-old Carrie and 7-year-old May
bell through the snow with a rifle
Lynn
Carlson
and a shotgun. He shot Carrie in the
head and Maybell in the side, then
battered their heads until they stop
ped moving.
He shot his 37-year-old wife Fan
nie through the heart as she stepped
onto the front porch to bring in some
firewood; then he shot his 17-vear
old daughter Marie.
He crushed the skulls of his ba
bies ? 4-year-old James, 2-year-old
Raymond and 4-month-old Mary
Lou.
Relatives who stopped by after a
hunting trip later that day would find
the bodies of Fannie and four of the
children inside the house. The other
two would be discovered in a tobac
co barn, where Charlie either chased
them from the house or placed them
after an ambush.
Their corpses were arranged in a
ghastly gesture of affection, their
hands folded, eyes closed and heads
resting on rocks.
As the horrific news spread to
neighboring homes and farms.
Charlie Lawson paced in a circle in
the snowy woods, working up the
nerve to shoot himself in the chest
before he was caught.
By the time investigators and un
dertakers started moving the bodies
down the icy hill on a makeshift sled
toward the waiting hearses, the curi
ous and incredulous had begun ar
riving on the scene. One onlooker
scooped up a handful of snow laced
with Fannies blood.
Over kitchen tables and in news
papers across North Carolina, and
then the country, neighbors and
strangers would try to figure out
what sent a sober, reliable tobacco
farmer around the bend that way.
Folks remembered that Charlie
had accidentally struck himself in
the head with a mattock the year be
fore and had complained of head
aches and acted weirdly for a while
afterward. His autopsy reported no
evidence of the wound, but indicated
some low-grade degeneration in the
middle of his brain.
Another possible motive stayed a
secret for almost 6() years until
Charlie Lawson's niece revealed it.
Seventeen-year-old Marie was preg
nant with her father's child, and her
mother had found out. The niece
speculated that Charlie killed his
family and himself to avoid the dis
gtace.
The immediate family's only sur
vivor was 19-year-old Arthur, who
had gone to town to buy shotgun
shells when his papa started shoot
ing.
The eight dead Lawsons were
buried in a mass grave Dec. 27 after
a funeral which was reported to have
attracted 5,000 mourners and gawk
ers. The caskets were left open so
that the crowd could view the bod
ies. The infant Mary Lou was lyinj.
in her mothers arms.
Even more people showed up at
the murder scene than the funeral
And they just kept coming, day after
month after year, in such numbers
that Charlie's Uncle Marion began
charging 25 cents admission for
each visitor. He did so for four or
five years.
Marion's defenders said he wasn't
being opportunistic; people were
trespassing, trying to steal things,
and the surviving son Arthur needed
help paying off the debts his father
left.
The killings soon inspired a song.
"The Murder of the Lawson Fam
ily," and in 1990 a book. Whin
Christmas, Bloody Christmas by M
Bruce Jones and his daughter Trudy
J. Smith. Jones was 8 and living in
nearby Jamestown when the mur
ders took place. He remembers be
ing afraid his own dad would snap.
The story was brought to me by a
Holden Beach resident who grew up
near Germanton. He can remember
his teacher making him sing "The
Murder of the Lawson Family" in
class when he was 1 1 or so.
"Don't use my name," he asked,
mindful that even 64 Christmases
later, he knows people who'd prefer
that the story never be told again.
A Biker Makes A Difference In His World
Next time you feel like there's not
much one person can do to make a
difference in the world, consider
what Jerome Munna accomplished
in just two-and-a-half weeks.
Jerome has a sign business in
Supply. He also has a big, shiny
liarley-Davidson motorcycle that he
likes to take cruising down the high
way on nice, sunny days. Sometimes
he goes alone. Other times he joins
other bikers for a group ride (com
monly known in cycle circles as a
"run").
We motorcyclists are like that. We
all carry around wonderful mental
videos of solitary rides through
wonderful places:
Just you and your rumbling ma
chine, watching the world go by,
scanning the scenery, smelling the
smells, feeling the little pockets of
warm and cool wind as you pass
from sunlight to shade. Experien
cing things you never notice in a car.
On the other hand, most motorcy
clists also like to ride in huge traffic
jams. As long as none of the vehi
cles have more than two wheels
(with allowances made for sidecars
and trikes).
The only trouble is, the non-rid
ing public sometimes gets unsettled
by the sight and sound of a few hun
dred motorcycles rumbling past with
riders clad in heavy boots and black
leather and their faces hidden behind
helmets and dark glasses. (All of
which are very handy in a 60 mph
wind or an unscheduled encounter
with the pavement.)
Years back, in an effort to im
prove their image, motorcycle clubs
across the country started having
charity "runs" to raise money for
Eric
Carlson
worthy causes. For some reason, the
annual Christmas "Toys For Tots"
drives, frequently co-sponsored by
the U.S. Marine Corps, became the
most popular.
Right around Thanksgiving, Jer
ome Munna got to thinking that he'd
like to ride in a toy run this year. He
knew they had one in Florence, S.C.,
and Wilmington and was making
plans to go when his friend Tina
Holden posed a simple question.
"Why don't we have a toy run
here?" she asked.
Most guys would have shrugged
their shoulders and said, "I don't
know." But Jerome took it as a chal
lenge. He rolled up his sleeves and
said, "Yeah. Why don't we?"
He started calling local bikers.
They liked the idea and called oth
ers. They started calling local busi
nesses to look for sponsors. They al
so liked the idea and agreed to do
nate money. A graphic artist friend
offered to design a T-shirt to raise
more money.
Jerome got in touch with the
Brunswick County Department of
Social Services, where he learned
that about 25 local children would
be spending Christmas in foster care
this year. The DSS folks had never
heard of a toy run, but they liked the
idea and agreed to see that any pro
ceeds got into the hands of those in
need.
In no time, Jerome found himself
holding the handlebars of a major
fund raising effort. Throughout
Brunswick County and beyond, bik
ers came out of the woodwork to of
fer their support.
"I met people from all over the
county that had bikes," he said. "I
found out that my exterminator
owns a Harley. I never met Thurman
Gause before. He gave us a lot of
help arranging for traffic control and
got a lot of his touring bike friends
involved."
As the day of the ride approached,
enthusiasm for the toy run snow
balled. Businesses from all over do
nated door prizes for the riders.
Mickie's Doughnuts in Shallotte
agreed to open on Sunday to provide
free coffee and a base of operations.
Lowe's in Southport asked that the
riders stop by to pick up more toys.
Then Sunday morning arrived,
bringing the coldest temperatures
since last winter. With the mercury
barely touching 40 degrees, the rid
ers knew that, at 55 mph, they would
be facing a wind chill factor of about
3 billion degrees below zero.
But still they came, 33 bikes car
rying about 50 riders and passen
gers. Some had toys and stuffed ani
mals strapped to their handlebars.
Others gladly paid their $10 contri
bution. Most kicked in another $8
for a T-shirt. In all, more than
$2,000 and numerous toys were do
nated.
The ride went as smoothly as can
be imagined. Officers of the Shal
lotte Police Department, the Bruns
wick County Sheriff's Department,
the Southport Police and the N.C.
Highway Patrol stationed them
selves along the 65-mile parade
route and allowed the long line of
bikes to pass unbroken through the
intersections.
It was a cold and cheerful crowd
that assembled in the Wal-Mart
parking lot after the run. The foster
children who came to meet the
group ran from bike to bike, inspect
ing the polished paint and shiny
chrome pipes. They swarmed over
Jerome's pickup truck as he reached
over the side and put toys into eager
little hands.
Then each child was paired with a
biker for a $100 shopping spree.
They ran eagerly up and down the
store aisles loading up shopping
carts while their chaperones tried to
keep track of the totals (and the bat
tery requirements). The store man
ager set up a special cash register to
give the kids a discount on their se
lections.
The chill of the ride quickly faded
in the warmth of the moment as the
riders watched their efforts bring a
little extra joy into lives those chil
dren.
"I've never been said 'thank you'
to so many times in my life," said
Jerome. "It really opened up and
warmed a lot of people's hearts. It
just goes to show that you don't
need to go somewhere else to help
someone. You can do it right here.
"We were all touched by it and I
think everybody gained something. I
know I don't need anything more for
Christmas."
Perhaps not, Jerome. But you de
serve at least one more "thank you."
And another wish for a Merry
Christmas.