Two
Progressive Projects
The first two projects tentatively selected for entry in
the Finer Carolina Contest mark the 1954 effort of this
community as ambitious and progressive. There is certainly
room for increased growth and beautification of the Zebu
lon community, and the establishment of a factory and
beautification of the armory site are two big steps in the
right direction.
Sam Berry, southern manager of the National Asso
ciation of Manufacturers, cites the value of a little factory
to a community in an editorial which appeared in the At
lanta Journal:
‘What does a little factory that employs 150 do for the
community where it functions?
‘ That little factory will call for 300 homes in the com
munity.
“It will support 33 stores and will allow 24 professional
people to live in and serve the community.
“It will pay $53,000 to the local transportation facilities
to transport the goods produced by the factory.
“It will buy the produce of 6,000 acres, involving the
farmers of the area and giving them a market for their
produce.
“It will lay down a revolving payroll of over $200,000.
And it will establish a tax foundation of $2,500,000.
“In ordinary times, this factory will put 320 automobiles
in the community. It will fill 18 rooms of a schoolhouse,
calling for teachers to take care of the children.”
Maintenance Needed
We thought at the time they were erected that the
street markers for Zebulon streets were a good idea. We
still think they are good things to have, but we also think
a bit of maintenance is in order. The erection of the mark
ers distinguished Zebulon as a progressive community and
incited compliments from those passing through. The pres
ent weather-beaten and broken condition of many of the
markers set the town off as a lethargic cross-roads typical
of the poor South featured in books.
It will take time and money to maintain the markers,
but if we are going to continue to use them, the time and
money will be well spent.
60 Second Sermon
By Fred Dodge
TEXT: “Knowledge and timber shouldn’t be much use *til
they are seasoned.” Oliver Wendell Homes
A professor of sociology was talking with several eminent
scholars when his son swaggered into the room, interrupting
the discussion, saying,
“The trouble with you older folks is that you don’t see things
properly. Now the way I see it—.” He paused for breath. His em
barrassed father broke in with an apology to his friends.
“Don’t mind my son,” he said, “He is 18 years old— going
on 40.”
* * *
Some parents excuse bad manners in their children by say
ing that youth should not be restained as it seeks to grow and
develop. The fact is that such parents are either lazy or un
equal to their responsibilities. It takes time, effort and skill
to teach a child good manners, kindness and consideration for
others, including his parents. It is much easier to let the child
“express himself.”
A double danger arises when parents mistake youth’s “ex
pression” of bad manners and self importance, for knowledge.
It is then that both parents and children approach the greatest
fault, which is to be conscious of none. Bad manners stamped
on a child having away of leaving the same label on the par
ents.
The Zebulon Record
Entered as second class matter June 26, 1925, at the post
office at Zebulon, North Carolina, under the act of March 3, 1879.
Member of the North Carolina Press Association.
Published Tuesday and Friday of each week at Zebulon,
Wake County, North Carolina. Subscription rate: $2.00 a year.
Advertising rates on request.
BARRIE S. DAVIS Editor
JAMES M. POTTER, JR Publisher
FERD L. DAVIS Fifth Wheel
The Zebulon Record
By Theo. B. Davis
Centuries ago, when the mum
my of a prominent Egyptian was
laid away in one of the pyramids,
with it were placed both common
and precious things. Among them
was a hermetically sealed tube of
grain—the very best. There it
rested with the dead—a thing
of living possibilities, unused and
finally forgotten. From its plant
ing harvest after harvest might
have sprung to feed the hungry
and probably save the starving.
For the time it might as well have
been dead.
For centuries it waited, holding
within its shell life, till an ex
plorer, digging deep, found it.
Was the seed dead, or was it just
sleeping? It must be lost to save
it. The test brought out life,
which after ages smiled again as
it looked up with hope into the
face of its Creator. It brought
forth an abundant harvest which
in the centuries since had multi
plied itself a million times, func
tioning and fulfilling its Divine
mission. Seed or son, God expects,
demands, that they do twb things—
“do good and repenish the earth.”
He says “pass it on.”
Some weeks ago a friend ex
pressed the wish that she wanted
cornices made for some windows.
Having shop equipment and ma
terial, I volunteered to make them
for her. On delivering them, she
expressed her pleasure with my
work and insisted that she pay me.
That I refused, saying, “I found
satisfaction in making them and
also pleasure in giving them to
you. Some of my most happy ex
periences in life come from such
Four years ago today “The
Mighty Mo,” as the U. S. Navy
referred to the 45,000-ton battle
sh i p named Missouri, was
aground in Chesepeake Bay and
had been for two days. Navy faces
were getting redder every hour on
the hour, and rumor had it that
the navigator and first officer had
gotten the Missouri stuck in the
mud by mistaking a gin rummy
score written on the chart for the
channel depth. That shows you
that sailors should never play gin
rummy, only innocent games, like
poker maybe. I’m a rook man, my
self.
I am not only a rook player—
I am also an honest rook player,
and have been since one unfortu
nate night back in 1948. Loomis
Parrish was my partner, and had
arranged to wink his right eye if
he had the rook, and his left eye
once for each fourteen. I thought
lessly blew a puff of Tampa Nug
get smoke toward him, and before
the air cleared he had signaled
every high card in the deck. I
bid a conservative 300, but we
made only ten points (from a card
in my hand). Today I believe in
keeping a game clean no signals
for me.
Not long after that, Loomis and
I played for the Zebulon Record
office championship against two
co-workers, one of whom is cur
rently an all-state basketball
player, and the other of whom cries
like a baby when State College
loses. That match found our oppo
nents engaged in signals refined to
a point that the boys in Los Veg.is
would like to know about. They
were about a thousand points
ahead of us, when we got onto
them, and even then it took a week
to catch up.
They would separate their cards
by colors, and pop fingers behind
them to indicate high cards held.
They were so efficient they could
have flashed their pulse rate and
Pass It On
Uncle Ferd’s Almanac
favors. In this way I have found a
joy and happiness not to be had
otherwise.”
Then I continued: “If you want
to compensate for the gift, then
just pass my favor on. Do some
thing for another who needs or
would appreciate it. Then tell that
one to please “pass it on,” and the
next on and on to the end. Then,
when we all get home to heaven,
there will be quite a crowd of us.
Each will find that his good has
been multiplied and passed on and
transmuted into heavenly treas
ures—ours, laid up to await our
coming.”
More than forty years ago there
came to our town a young man
from Mississippi. He was what
was called then, a book agent, now
known as a salesman. Being of the
same faith as- myself, he came to
our church services and also visit
ed my home. One day he came
to me in great trouble. His fa
ther and mother were old. He
had no brother or sister. His par
ents were wholly dependent on
him. A letter from them, he said,
brought word that the landlord
was about to dispossess his parents
and they were desperate. So was
the young man. He insisted that
he did not come to me for financial
assistant, but for advice, since
he had always sought his pastor in
his needs. He had taken a number
of orders for books, but delivered
none. He had little money, not
enough to help in the emergency.
I told him to wait a minute. I
went back to the kitchen where
my wife was preparing dinner and
told her about the young fellow’s
predicament. She asked, “What
blood count if they hadn’t run out
of figures. It would have been
foolproof if it hadn’t been so fun
ny to see me sweat that they had
to tell it. The story got back to
me, and thereafter everything was
easy for Loomis and Uncle Ferd.
We not only knew what they had;
we knew which one had it. Three
weeks and $28.50 later, they too
had decided that honesty is the
best policy.
I like card games of all kinds,
since dealing is about the only ex
ercise I get nowadays, outside of
repairing the furnace every Tues
day and Saturday. Incidentally, I
don’t have a bad furnace; it’s just
tempermental. If the outside tem
perature is above 60, it turns out
Personal Items
Harry Bissette is a patient at
Veterans Administration Hospital
in Durham.
Mr. and Mrs. Marvin Lee and
children of Middlesex visited the
Charles Hawkins Sunday.
Mrs. Clara Daniel returned to
Zebulon Sunday after being away
several weeks.
Mr. and Mrs. Ed Hales have
moved into their new home. On
Sunday their guests were Mr. and
Mrs. E. L. Hill and Mrs. Celia
Garris of Ayden, and Mr. and Mrs.
W. B. Strickland of Smithfield.
Mr. and Mrs. A. V. Medlin of
Greenville spent the weekend with
Mr. and Mrs. Carsey Tippett.
Dr. C. E. Floyers and Mrs. Wal
lace Chamblee were dinner guests
of Mrs. Irby Gill Sunday.
The A. C. Dawsons of Southern
Pines spent the weekend with
Mrs. A. C. Dawson.
Donna Faye Stallings is sick
with a virus infection.
Mr. and Mrs. Hoyt R. Brantley
Tuesday, January 19, 1954
are you going to do, Theo.?” I
replied, “He says it will take $50.00,
and I am going to let him have it.”
She heartily approved. I got the
money from the bank and let him
have it. He rode the first westbound
train homeward.
For two weeks I waited to hear
from him. Once my wife remark
ed that it was about time that we
heard from our friend. I agreed.
Three days later I got a letter
from him. With it was a cashier’s
check for $50.50. Gushing with
appreciation, he thanked me over
and over. Later he returned and
delivered his orders and went on
his way.
That experience taught me one
of the most practical lessons in
trust and service to others I have
ever had. From that time till now
people have been good to me,
even going out of their way to do
favors for me. I have tried in each
instance to “pass it on”—to do
something for others that would
relieve need —a word of sympathy,
comfort, encouragement; a deed of
service, relief, a gift—so many
things to be done, so easily done,
to pass on, as we journey from
earth to heaven.
Jesus said, “Lay not up treasures
on earth, but in heaven, where nei
ther doth rust or moth corrupt, nor
thieves break through and steal.”
Every day I remember some
thing I have done on which God
has put His heavenly seal, guar
anteeing my deposit. I have al
ready received more than a hun
dred per cent interest on my sav
ing’s account. Every time I count
my bank balance with God I
(Continued on Page 5)
about 120,000 BtU. If it’s around
18 outside, it carries a flame
about the size of the pilot light on
a butter melter for the dining
room table.
This past weekend I was also
bothered with water in my base
ment, which is just large enough
for the furnace, a water bucket,
and me. Not that my basement
leaks—l finally got it waterproof
ed—but I now have a spring in my
chimney. It isn’t much of a spring
compared to Seven Springs or Old
Faithful, but I never before saw
two gallons of water a minute run
ning out of a chimney. If any of
you anti-soil conservationists
know of a good way to lower the
water table, please let me know.
and Mrs. W. H. Land of Wilson
spent Sunday with Mr. and Mrs.
Sam Ferebee. .
Mr. Maultass Alford was carried
back to Mary Elizabeth Hospital
Saturday night.
Diana and Coo Chamblee are
both sick with a virus infection.
Mrs. Sidney Holmes returned
from Mary Elizabeth Hospital Sat
urday following an operation. Her
sister is staying with her.
Mr. and Mrs. Carter Studdert of
Greenville spent the weekend with
Mr. Pittman Stell.
Willard Gill is in Rex Hospital
following an operation for the re
moval of the pin in his leg.
Note of Thanks
I wish to thank everyone for
the gifts, flowers, visits, cards and
all other deeds of kindness during
my husband’s death.
Mrs. B. M. Price