Newspapers / The New Bern Mirror … / May 27, 1960, edition 1 / Page 1
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The NEW BERN PUBLISHED WEEKLY IN THE HEART OP EASTERN NORTH CAROLINA Si Per Copy VOLUMNE 3 NEW BERN, N. C., FRIDAY, MAY 27, 1960 NUMBER 9 Spring and summer are pretty much the same each year, down here in the coast country. How ever, old-time New Bernians recall a number of picturesque things about our town that have vanished with the passing of time. On any list compiled would be the vegetable peddlers who used to pull their little wagons along our sidewalks in the early morning hours. Folks didn’t sleep overly late in those days, so it seldom dis turbed citizens to hear sing-song shouts proclaiming the freshness of garden peas, corn, coUard greens and other delightful delica cies. Answering the clarion call, housewives would barge out of their homes to hail the peddler at their doorstep, and inspect the freshly picked wares reposing in buckets and flour sacks. Most of the vegetables had been grown in backyard gardens. To this day, an occasional vege table seller makes the rounds on foot, but gone forever is the era that saw scores of these highly audible individuals trudging from one end of the city to the other. Even if you hadn’t seen a crocus or a violet, or heard mocking birds showing off their versatility, you would have known it was spring just by the lusty hollering of the street peddlers. A few of the more prosperous —or perhaps more enterprising hawkers didn’t remain content to pull a little wagon or shove a push cart. They got themselves a horse and dray. This not only conserv ed their energy but made it pos sible to haul more vegetables. Martha Royal, as any old timer can tell you, could yell louder than any of the othef peddlers. In fact, when the wind was right her voice- not only carried to the ocean’s edge, it was claimed, but even ex tended to the outer banks. As a small boy with a vivid and somewhat vicious imagination, we used to speculate on just how loud Martha might have yelled if she had seen a ghost on a dark night, or had been overtaken by a lion or a tiger. Back then you didn’t hear much about laryngitis. As a matter of fact, no one had heard about such a thing as a virus, and fortunately for us kids there appeared to be very few germs going the rounds. But even H there had been an epi demic of laryngitis here, Martha would have been exempt. Her vocal chords defied hoarseness. Come rain or cpme shine. Almost as fascinating as the veg etable peddlers were the fish ped dlers. Unlike the vegetable hawk ers, who were Usually women, the only fish peddlers we recall were .men. 'Tliey never took to the side walks, but pushed their carts in the street. In keeping with the general ab sence of sanitation that prevailed so pleasantly and conveniently hete, they used old newspapers for tapping paper. Where the news- appers came from we don’t have tee remotest idea, but no New jBernians of our acquaintance were sufficiently fastidious to care about so trivial a matter. Automobiles were a rarity in those days, so the fish peddler had the street pretty much tq himself. His only traffic hazard was the re- mote possibility that a run-away horse might wreck his enterprise right in the middle of selling Mrs. Jones her croakers or spots. Oysters as well as lish were transported on the pushcarts, but never crabs. You bought your crabs usually from kids who caught them around the bridges on the Neuse and Trent rivers. Shrimp were almost unheard of, at least in our neighborhood. In their day, the street peddlers were a great convenience to local (Contimiwl on Page $) EASY TO EANDLE—T^Pictured Here, nearing completion, is a tow boat built by New Bern Shipyard, Inc,, that will soon be plying Florida waters. Unlike outmoded tugs that pull, the tow boat pushes its barges^'It’s safer to operate on crowded streams, and is a familiar sig^it along the^ Missis sippi. Located on the site of the old Meadows Shipyard, the local firnj is known for the excellent jobs it turns out.— Photo by Bill Benners. Craven's Battered Bushes Are Getting Final Beating This is no day to be snoozing under a bush. At least not in New Bern and the remainder of the Third Congressional District, where, any and all candidates are dashing and thrashing in a last frantic effort to round up enough votes for election. ^ As a matter of fact, most of tee available bushes have long since been beaten to a frazzle. The few remaining are so depleted of foli age that you’d fare just as well taking your nap in the open sun shine, as far as shade is concern ed. ■ Local parents—the ones who don’t particuarly care to have their babies kissed by politicians on the loose—won’t have to wait much longer to bring teeir infants out of hibernation for the normal free dom every child should have. You won’t have to worry about those h^ndshMces either, aher the poHs close tomorrow night. Any New Bernian who can boast of a" good set of fingers and an undam aged thumb at this stage of the campaigning either has an inde structible paw or leads a rather sheltered lUe. Christmas is the season when everybody is supposed to love ev erybody else, but no Yuletide has ever produced as many smiles and pleasant salntations as are encount ered in the few jovial weeks before the votes are cast. Popularity descends upon the shoulders of every individual old enough.to register—the rich and the poor, and the fat and the lean. Between elections, most of us count ourselves lucky if we have a half-dozen faithful friends, but we’ve had friends to spare in re cent weeks. In fact, we’ve been virtually smothered with the af fection of friends we had never seen before. Invariably it developed that these exceedingly glad strangers were not long-lost cousins, or Mr. An thony with a cashier’s check tor a million dollars, but an office seek er who wanted to save tee coun try or something. Promises were a dime a-dozen, and if eveiything happens that is supposed to hap pen, the county, state and nation is going to be a veritabie paradise. There’ll be more paved roads, more school buildings, higher in comes and lower taxes. Anything your heart desires will be yours for the asking, providing of course that you put the right man in of fice. Ask any candidate, and he’ll let you know who the right man is. It’s the way that things are done in a d'emocracy, and surprisingly LIKE A KID AT CHRISTMAS .. . Candidates Are Hopeful enough the results aren’t too dis astrous. No matter who manages to. talk himself into office, the na tion is mighty apt to survive. Before you become overly criti cal of the manner in which politi cians carry on, as they seek votes, just remember that you would probably behave the same way if you were running for office. Enough citizens are swayed by such doings to occasionally swing an'election one way or another. Things are particularly hectic here in the waning moments of the campaign, with much of the in terest centered on the Congrssion- al race. Both State Senator Jim, mie Simpkins and Mayor Robert L. Stallings, Jr., are bubbling with confidence, and fully expect to get into the second primary that is bound to come. The Mirror is convinced that one of the two is due for a rude awak ening. Our guess is that David Henderson is a certain qualifier for the run-off, with either Simp kins or Stallings as his opponent. Dr. Rose and Skinner Chalk have little chance to make the grade, although Rose may finish as high as third in the five-man field. In the governor’s race; John Lar kins should get a good plurality in New Bern and Craven county. How ever, Terry Sanford has been far more active in the promotion of his campaign here than Larkins, and is apt to poll a surprising vote. Lake could show strength, too, with Seawell trailing the front runners. Little interest has been display ed in any of the candidates run ning for other state offices, from (Continued on Page 8)
The New Bern Mirror (New Bern, N.C.)
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May 27, 1960, edition 1
1
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