/
I'
3:/,
-If Uncle Sam’s Postmaster Gen
eral ever runs out of folks to put
on his postage stamps, he can al
ways fall back on IVotting Jim.
No other man in the history of
the nation’s mail service compares
with this amazing ex-slave, who
liked to impersonate a horse while
footing hundreds of piiles a week.
Fair weather or foul, he covered
his difficult coastal route on sched
ule. It was Jim’s job to get the mail
pouches to Swansboro and back,
thence to Beaufort, and back by
way of Harlowe to his starting
point at Newport.
It was a superhuman assignment,
but Trotting Jim was a superhu
man. He got his job in the first
place because horse-drawn ve
hicles were unable to overcome
such obstacles as high tides and
washed out bridges.
Since this 35 year old Negro had
proven himself capable of running
50-mile errands, he was a logical
choice to tackle the problem at
hand. For 20 years the six-foot,
170-pound marvel proved faithful
to the finest traditions of the mail
service, and quit only when im
proved rail connections made his
marathon jaunts unnecessary.
- More than a half century has
passed, but to this day he remains
the most legendary figure in the
history of the coast country. After
giving up his mail toting, the hu
man horse continued to serve
hardy, weather beaten residents in
Newport area.
When a doctor was needed, you
could count bn Jim to get word to
eyed pKysician Tfifch up ids
gy, but politely refused to ride
back with him to the scene of dis
tress.
“Don’t fret about me,’’ the old
colored man would say, “I’ll get
there all right.’’ And he always did.
Trotting Jim’s real name was
Louis Wiggins. His son, Louis Jr.,
lived in New Bern for years, serv
ing as a guide for hunters. The last
time we saw him he was nigh onto
70, but. could still do acrobatics.
More unbelievable than Trotting
Jim’s remarkable durability was
his yen to play horse. Armed with
a stout switch, he would beat him
self on the shanks whenever he
was ready to take off down the
road.
During his long service as a
transporter of mail, Jim usually
strapped the pouch to his back.
However, he had a cart to use when
the mail was particularly heavy.
With deadly seriousness he
would hitch himself to the traces,
and take the bridle in his mouth.
Then with a cluck and a tap of the
switch, he started on his appointed
rounds.
As fas as this lithey' cat-like
Negro was concerned, shoes were
an evil designed primarily for
church going. He always wore his
to services at the Jones Chapel
Methodist church, but didn’t care
to be handicapped with them when
he w.as at work.
He was never known to drink,
smoke or indulge in other forms
of dissipation. Though it wasn’t
deliberate on his part, he kept per
fect training, and was a past
master at the track art of pacing.
Nobody knew better than Trotting
Jim that it was possible for an
athlete to get his “second wind’’
just before reaching exhaustion.
He died at 75, not from old age
but a skin infection reportedly
contracted when he* exhumed the
body of a child for its parents.
Such was the strange ending to
the amazing story of Trotting Jim.
Young Democrats
Plan to Organize
Interest is high here in the plan
ned organization Tuesday night of
a New Bern Young Democrat club.
The NEW BERN
■FKLY
5i^l . '4^ ^
VOLUME I
NEW BERN, N. C., FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 26, 1958
NUMBER 26
FOR EVERY AGE—^This Sunday morning scene at Broad
Street Christian Church is typical of New Bern’s other
places of worship, too. Religion is for the young and the
old j^ike, and families that pray together stay t^Jkhdr,.
These New Bernians, leaving the sanctuary, hav? heard the
Word of God, and are the better for it.—^Photo by John
. R. Baxter.
\mtt-
-HERi IN NEW BERN
in®*'
■ d
Outer Space Ain't for Kids
New Bern’s first graders have
embarked upon education’s avenue
in an amazing era of atoms, but
things nuclear are of little concern
to theip.
Despite a changing world, child
hood remains delightfully change
less, and local small fry are as
much like kids of the past as the
proverbial peas in a pod.
Such is revealed in a survey by
The Mirror, aimed at representa
tive six-year-olds. It’s astounding
how closely the answers we got co
incide with similar answers that
their parents gave us in a survey
we made for the Raleigh News and
Observer a quarter of a century
or more ago.
Then as now, there are more
young ladies in the first grade who
want to be nurses than any other
professions. Teaching is a very
close second, and that too is an ex
act duplicate of sentiments voiced
by the little girls of long ago.
One of the diminutive members
of the fair sex has a rather intrigu
ing choice. She insisted that she
wants to be Annie Oakley when
Everything Ready
For A.A/s Banquet
Everything is in readiness for
tomorrow night’s anniversary ban
quet of the New Bern and Craven
Alcoholics Anonymous groups-
Scheduled for the ballroom of
the Hotel Governor Tryon, it will
have as featured speaker Dennis
McGenty, executive director of the
New York City Alcoholism Infor
mation Center.
The dinner meeting is scheduled
for 7:30 p.m. in the Ambassador
room of the Hotel Governor Tryon,
and reservations may be made by
contacting the temporary chairman,
James 0. Simpkins.
she grows up. Not like Annie Oak
ley, mind you, but Annie Oakley
in the flesh.
How she plans to arrange this
reincarnation, transformation, or
what have you, isn’t clear. Afraid
to become too (leeply involved, we
evaded detailed discussion of this
point.
Strange as it may seem, none of
the boys wanted to pilot a rocket
excursion to the moon- Just like
their dads at the same age, they
have a yen to be a fireman, a doc
tor, a cowboy, a sailor, or a rail
road engineer.
Their fascination for pistols, al
most as old as boyhood itself, is
reflected in the fact that cops and
cowboys finish in a dead heat as
the most popular occupations of
the masculine small fry-
Maybe the survey proves nothing
at all. If so, it won’t be the first
survey that was inconclusive. How
ever, we’ve got a sneaking suspi
cion that there’s more behind it
than meets the eye.
It might well be that today’s
kids, in their remarkable allegiance
to the things that oldsters found
appealing in the past, are pointing
up the futility of our troubled
times.
Mary Emma Hurst Happily
Married to Famous Artist
When New Bern’s Mary Emma
Hurst married Leo Hershfield, the
nationally-famous artist and illu
strator, more than 20 years ago
she stepped out of the limelight
herself, and has never regretted
it-
At the time the two met in New
York’s Greenwich Village, back in
the early 30’s, she was an interior
decorator at Macy’s, had been suc
cessful as a photographer’s model
and had done some ballet dancing
professionally.
Earliqr, at Marjorie Webster
school in the nation’s capital, she
set an AAU women’s freestyle
swimming record for the Washing
ton area, and still holds it.
Today, at the Hershfield’s new
home in Bradenton, Fla., she is
happy to be a good housewife and
the mother of two fine sons, 18-
year-old Peter, who is studying
electrical engineering at the Uni
versity of Virginia, and 13-year-old
Samuel.
The family formerly lived in
Alexandria, Va., in the historic
1790 home of Admiral and Mrs.
John Paul Barker Barrett. They
moved to Florida because the cli
mate there was more beneficial
to Mary Emma’s health.
While in Alexandria she spent
24 hours weekly as a Red Cross
nurse’s aide at the hospital there,
and a full day each week in the
Community Health clinic.
She started her volunteer nurs
ing in New York during the war
years. At Alexandria she was nam
ed chairman of the nurses aides in
1955, and was a board member of
the Alexandria Red Cross chapter
at the time she moved to Braden
ton.
Leo, a native of Knoxville, Tenn-,
is perhaps best known for his car
toons in the Saturday Evening
Post, but as far back as the 20’s
he was sketching such celebrities
as Lionel Barrymore, Lillian Gish,
W. C- Fields, Will Rogers and Ray
Dooley.
(Continued on back page)
Adult anxiety hasn’t seeped down
to their level yet, except the usual
anxiety and exasperation that con
scientious parents feel in rearing
their brood.
If modern youngsters find joy in
the relics of our own lost child
hood, it is just possible that we
discarded the wrong things in our
quest for permanent or temporary
peace of mind.
We may laugh at the faith of a
child in accepting quite literally
their fairyland of fantasy. But
what is more fantastic than grown
ups trying to reach and dominate
other worlds in outer space before
they learn how to run the one lit
tle world they’re inhabiting.
That’s why we envy the little
boy at Central Elementary who in
tends to be the Lone Ranger, and
his classmate who aims to be Davy
Crockett, bye and bye. To us that
sounds much better than being a
rocket rider commuting to and
from Mars.
After all, the worst you had to
expect from ah Indian was a scalp
ing. Nowadays, you’ve not only got
to worry about bombs and guided
missiles, but such disconcerting
things as purple people eaters.
We can hardly wait until our ■
second childhood, so we can enter
the first grade all over again;
Fifty-Oiie Cases on
Calendar of Court
Fifty-one cases are listed on the
calendar for trial during the two-
week civil term of Craven Superior
court that opens here on Monday,
September 29-
Judge Clifton L. Moore of Bur-
gaw will be the presiding jurist.
A total of 42 jurors have been call
ed for each of the two weeks. In
cluded are 11 members of the fair
sex.