The NEW BERN
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PUBLISHED WEEKLY
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VOLUME 16
NEW BERN, N. C. 28560, FRIDAY, JUNE 22, 1973
NUMBER 15
June is the itionth of roses,
June is the month of brides, but
when folks get together, they
talk only of weather, and
nothing else besides.
They don’t talk about birds,
singing songs in the trees,
giving their best in an effort to
please. And they dwj’t have
much praise for the heavens of
blue, where white, fleecy clouds
cruise the long day through.
Flowers go unheeded, no
matter how sweet, their petals
forgotten though right at our
feet. We will pass up the sun
sets, and be blind to the dawn,
and even to rainbows when
showers are gone.
You will agree we’re a stupid
lot, greeting the neighbors with
“My, ain’t it hot.’’ A phrase we
repeat fhom morning to night, to
friends and to strangers, to all
within sight.
Like so many parrots reciting
a spiel, there is just one refrain
that can merit our zeal. So you
know what you’ll hear from
those on your way, they’ll stop
and they’ll ask, “Ain’t it hot
today?’’
The question is foolish, but we
can’t get together, without
someone yapping his squawk
about weather. Perhaps we’d be
cooler in summer’s warm
clutch, if the subject of beat
wasn’t harped on so much.
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Yesterday was when there
was no radio set at your
family’s house, much less
television. Instead of getting
weather information from a
commentator pointing at a
map, Gramp and Grandma
observed signs in nature.
Such as you could expect frost
three months after you heard
your first katydid. And a cdd
and early winter was bound to
come, if cuckleburrs and com
shucks filled out real fast, and
hornets nests were built awfully
low.
Before you knew a hurricane
was headed this way, in the (dd
days, it had done ctane and
gone. Unless it was a rip snorter
that brought especiafiy heavy
flooding and severe wind
damage, it was simply called a
“stiff nwlheaster.’’
Yesterday was when New
Bemians Immed just about all
there was to know about nei^-
bors, during summer monOtt.
Wth windows up, and the nights
still, you heard everything. Air
conditioning ended this free
entertainment.
Yesterday was when the
legend began about the
Gwemor of North Carolina
saying to the Governor of South
Carolina, “It’s a long time
between drinks.’’ The stoi7 was
applicable to one of our
Governors who visited New
Bern several times a third of a
century ago.
On each occasion he was
loaded to the gills, but handled
his liqmr a little better than he
did at Morehead City, while on a
Tar Heels Afloat cruise. Early
one morning tMs editor spied
two of the Governor’s cronies
trying to drag his Excellency in
an upright position along a
dock. The guy was out cold.
Yesterday was when if you
saw a tomcat with a full length
(Continued on page 8)
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CAUGHT IN THE ACT — Over the years, various
famous Americans, for reasons satisfactory to them
selves, have found our obscure, small-town weekly
interesting reading. The ultimate came when Sena
tor Margaret Chase Smith included a Mirror edi
torial in the book she wrote, A Declaration of Con
science. Millions around the world would have no
trouble identifying the smiling gentleman seen here.
He is, of course, Joe Dimaggio, concentrating on
you know what at the moment an alert photographer
happened along. The picture was snapped about
10 years ago.