We’ll have to -admit that writing
in rather complimentary fashion
about one’s own kin folks is proba
bly in bad taste. And, when the
subject you’re writing about hap
pens to be the uncle you were
named for, it could be doubly so
Running that risk because it’s a
story worth the telling, we’re
thinking today of Captain Joe Gas-
kill. He was a familiar figure here
for many years. before moving to
Nofth Wilkesboro with his daugh
ter, Mrs. Will Caroon, to spend
his last days amid a wealth of
mellow memories.
Captain Joe hailed from Ports
mouth, that little island along
North Carolina’s outer banics
where the ravages of hurricane-
swept seas have all but obliterated
a community of hardy, ocean-lov
ing people.
Once hundreds called it home
and dreamed of it fondly after they
left. Today it’s shores have dwin
dled from the lashings of a raging
surf, and only a mere handful of
souls cling stubbornly to its un
protected stretch of sand.
They were brave and adventur
ous souls, those Portsmouth Is
landers of old. They asked no quar
ter from nature’s violence, though
long association with the sea
taught them to respect it.
They knew what is was to see
• a passing vessel fight a losing fight
against the elements, and come to
rest in broken pieces at their very
doorsteps. They saw men die with
coui-ageous dignity, and accepted
their grief with deep inner faith
when their own loved ones went
down to the sea in ships and never
returned.
Captain Joe was part and parcel
of their breed. At 17 he was skip
per of a sailing vessel. Among his
ports of call were the islands in
the West Indies. It was hazardous
business, but he loved it. So did all
the others of sturdy English stock
who shared the storms and churn
ing foam with him.
It took not only fortitude but a
keen sense of humor to brave the
tempest as a way of life. You had
to learn how to shrug off adversity,
and laugh at misfortune.
We’re not just indulging in fami
ly pride when we say that Captain
Joe Gaskill was a man of remark
able wit. Up until his death at
the age of 85, he could top any
wisecrack you tossed in his direc
tion, and he could make yom' fav
orite pun seem ridiculously flimsy
with an impromptu pun of his own.
Above all, he was a gentle and
kindly man—the typical old salt
with a pipe in his mouth and a
twinkle in his eye. Probably the
meanest thing he ever did was un
intentional. The victim was an lui-
suspecting pig.
In his younger days, Joe was a
member of the crew on a sailing
vessel that had to exist solely on
beans. That’s all the cook served—
beans and more beans. Having to
eat them for weeks on end got to
be monotonous.
One day Joe and other men on
board decided to dump a huge
batch of soda in the bean pot, to
make the pellets inedible and bring
about a crisis. To say it created
a crisis is putting it mildly.
Like every coOk on a sailing ves
sel, this cook had a pig on boai-d
to fatten up on garbage. When no
body ate the beans, it meant a
bountiful meal for the hog.'
Eating his fill—soda and all—the
pig' started swelling, and he kept
on swelling for days. He got so
puffed up that his eyes closed com
pletely, and instead of grunting he
sighed softly every now and then.
Everybody but the cook knew
what was wrong, and telling him
was out of the question. He was
just about as pathetic as the pig,
as he tried to console the critter
(Continued on back page)
The NEW BERN
PUBLISHED WEEKLY
’•*«= HEART OF
■ '►'■M
VOLUME 2
NEW BERN, N. C., FRIDAY, AUGUST 14, 1959
NUMBER
SHOVING OFF—Youngsters fronj Camp Sea Gull, who sail
ed to New Bern and spent the night, prepare to take off for
their home port. Watching them with keen interest are a
couple of local landlubbers who would be tickled pink to
join them on the voyage.—Photo by Billy Benners.
Don t Suggest Retirement to
This 80-Year-Old Minister
Neither the Rev. J. C.-Griffin nor
his countless friends can visualize
retirement for the 80 year old
minister, as he rounds out his half
century of preaching the gospel in
and around New Bern.
For one thing, this grand old
man of the local clergy has never
considered it a burden to be about
the Lord’s business. Spreading the
old-time religion here at home and
in seven other States is a thrilling
experience that he never tires of
Even as recently as last April he
flew to Alaska to help organize its
first Free Will Baptist church at
Anchorage. And through the years
he has held successful revivals in
Texas, Mississippi, Alabama, Flori
da, South Carolina and Tennessee.
New Bernians know him best as
sincere and dedicated man of
God, who has made thousands of
visits to hospital rooms and jail
cells, ft matters not to the Rev,
Griffin what a fellow . mortal’s
faith is in time of need, or whether
indeed there is any faith there at
all. If he sees a chance to bring
consolation, comfort or' hope, he’ll
wend his way to their door.
In his day the Nash county na
tive has preached his share of out
standing sermons, but it has been
by deeds rather than words that
he has rendered his greatest serv
ice to mankind. Many who read
these lines can personally attest to
this fact.
Since 1942 he has been a mem
ber of the General Board of the
National Free Will Baptist Associa
tion, and is also a member of the
executive committee of the Eastern
Conference of Free Will Baptist
Churches.
For 35 years he has been writing ever' come close to equaling his
regujarly for the Free Will Baptist
magazine, which is something of a
record in itself. Ministers half his
age would have trouble matching
his schedule, and few if any will
total accomplishments.
It was on June 10, 1910, that
Griffin preached his first sermon.
Appropriately it was delivered in
his home church—^White Oak Hill
Free Will Baptist church—near his
Nash County birthplace. He was
pastor there for a year before he
attended the old Free Will Baptist
Seminary at Ayden for two and a
half years.
His pastorates have included two
New Bern churches, St. Mary’s and
Ruth’s Chapel. He has also served
as pastor for Holly Springs lA Car
teret county, and at Arapahoe and
Whortonsville in Pamlico county.
At present he is pastor of the
Bridgeton Free Will Baptist
church. Recently hospitalized, he
remained seated for his two serv
ices last Sunday. His congregation
was impressed just as much as they
would have been had he been
standing. It was sort of like the
talks they have enjoyed with him
in their respective parlors and
living rooms, and by their sick
beds.
“As far back as I can remember,”
says the kindly minister, “people
have been saying that each younger
generation is the worst one yet.
Actually, human nature never
changes, except through the grace
of God.”
Despite his adyanced years. Rev.
Griffin hasn’t let the world pass
him by. He is a keen student of
current events, and familiar with
the tenseness and perplexities in
volved in today’s international pic
ture.
“I do not believe that any im
mediate war is in prospect,” he
reasons. “In my opinion the rulers
of the world would be afraid to
start one, and use methods that
would annihilate the peoples of
the earth.”
(Continued on beck p«g«)