Weekly perspective
My view
Sympathizing with
local landowners
By PAT MANSFIELD
. As a land owner. I can sympathise
with those who have petitioned the
County Commissioners for a ban on
deer hunting with dogs in the Bethel
township area.
Hunting on someone elses land is a
priviledge, not a right. This
priviledge should not be abused.
When someone that I don't even
know, drives across my field, it's the
same as walking across my living
room rug with muddy boots.
The shame of it all is, that there are
only a few hunters who seem to have
no respect for the land they are
allowed to hunt on. These few are
penalising everyone.
Their excitement of getting that
rack to hang over their fireplace, ia
do excuse for taking a shortcut over a
wet field and leaving tracks several
inches deep, or for pulling up a gun in
the direction of a farmer on his
combine.
I really feel sorry for the others,
those who stay on the paths and will
let a deer cross in front of them
without shooting because of an ap
proaching vehicle or a house in the
distance. These are the people who
should protest. Blackball the bad
guys from your hunting club if
necessary. Otherwise, no one will be
allowed to hunt anymore.
Looking back
By VIRGINIA WHITE TRANSEAU
REV. CORBIN CHERRY COM
PLETES TRAINING: The Rev.
Corbin Cherry, a native son of
Perquimans County, recently
completed his seminary training at
Candler School of Theology Emory
University, Atlantia, Ga. He received
his Bachelor of Divinity Degree. Mr.
Cherry visited in Hertford over the
Christmas holidays and preached at
the 11 o'clock service at the First
? Methodist Church. He is presently
serving as youth director at Capitol
View Methodist Church in Atlantia,
Ga. He plans to return to the North
Carolina Methodist Conference in
June, and take a charge at that time.
CONSTRUCTION WORK ON
HOMES STARTED: Construction
work was started recently on two
new homes in Hertford, one being
built by J. Moody Matthews, Jr.,
which is located on Church Street on
the old Newby property purchased by
Matthews. The other home is being
constructed by Joe Towe, Jr.. and is
located on Towe property
More on the Isaac
White house
The sotry of the Isaac White House
near Bethel continues.
The widow Margaret White saw all
three of her sons caught up in the
Civil War; all joined the Confederate
Army.
Joseph H. White enlisted May 16,
1861, in the "Perquimans
Beauregards" which became
Company F, Twenty-seventh
Regiment, North Carolina State
Troops. He became a 3rd Corporal,
and he died in service September 17,
1864.
Isaac N. White enlisted February
IS, 1862, at age 19, in Company F,
Eleventh Regiment, North Carolina
Troops, rising through the ranks to
be 3rd Corporal, 2nd Corporal, 1st
Corporal, and eventually Sergeant.
Isaac was captured at Gettysburg
July 3, 1863, and imprisoned at Fort
Delaware until paroled and ex
changed four weeks later. After
hospitalization for "Debilitas" he
returned to active duty in September,
1863.
At the end of 1864, he was home in
Perquimans on a furlough of in
dulgence, probably to attend the
family after the death of his elder
brother. He was captured again, at
Petersburg on April 2, 1865, and was
imprisoned at Point Lookout, from
which he was released June 21, 1865,
after taking the oath of allegiance to
the United States.
While still in his mid teens, John W.
White enlisted in 1863 in the
"Perquimans Partisan Rangers," an
independent guerilla company for
med for home defense. John was one
of the signers of a complaint against
Lt. Col. Edward C. Yellowley, who
was attempting to bring the guerillas
together into regular military camps
outside the Albemarle.
The complaints pleaded the need to
defend their own homes from Union
troops and Buffaloes, and the dif
ficulty of providing for their poor
families in a disordered economy.
Within a few months the "Rangers"
Ray
Wiitsloic
disbanded and John then enlisted on
May 1, 1864, in the "Perquimans
Beauregards".
Margaret White died about the
time her son Isaac was first cap
tured, and a final settlement of her
late husband, Joseph White's estate
was undertaken. The family property
included twenty-three salves (valued
at $12,650 altogehter); bank bills
from North and South Carolina,
Virginia, and Georgia; Treasury
notes from North Carolina and
Virginia; bills from the city of
Norfolk; and Confederate money ?
all of which soon ceased to be assets.
Isaac N. White and John W. White
made a mutual division of their
father's land on December 9, 1868, so
that each might avail himself of the
constitutionally provided homestead
exemption. John received the
homesite, with 122 acres.
John W. White died in late January
or early February 1869, leaving debts
estimated to be about twice his
assets. Administration on his estate
was granted to James J. Shan
nonhouse, the physician who had
attended him in his last illness.
In petitioning for sale of White's
real estate. Shannon house felt "the
people in the Section of the Country in
which intestate lived, were mostly
insolvent A that he does not believe
the Estate would be safe invested in
bonds and dependent on inadequate
security." The petition was granted
and the war-impoverished property
was sold at public auction.
(Part 6 next week.)
THE PERQUIMANS WEEKLY
i
Published Every Thursday
By Advance Publ.. Elizabeth City
Vol T. Short Jono B. William*
Editor Advertising Manager
Pot MansftokJ
Circulation Manager
NEWS AND ADVERTISING MA DUN!
5f00 WM. MONDAY f '
The Holy Trinity Episcopal Church winter garden
(designed and planted by Jean Winslow)
Editor expresses trials and tribulations
of frustrating first week on the job
I know many of you are just dying
to hear how my first week as editor of
the Perquimans Weekly was and I'm
just dying to tell you... it's too good to
keep!
I often enjoy watching those
"behind the scenes" programs like
The Making of Superman, or
whatever. It's fun to get an idea of
what really goes on behind the script.
Here's your chance to sneak a peak
at life behind the headlines !
In a word. ..last week was one long
calamity! But thanks to lots of help,
lots of understanding and a good bit
of panic, we managed to pull it off.
It started off fine. I worked over
the week-end to "get ahead" a little,
because I knew that I would have to
be in meetings most of the day
Monday ? county commissioners
and board of education, etc. In bet
ween meetings, I managed to get out
to take a few pictures and see a few
people.
f
I should have started worrying,
though, when I rode down the Harvey
Point Road twice to find the workers
on Phase II of the county water
system and still didn't find them.
(Aad still haven't!)
But that didn't dampen my spirits
much, so I took advantage of the time
and took some pictures of some
pretty scenes down Harvey Point
Road.
What really got me was Monday
night after processing my film, I
found nothing there! What a terrible
thing to happen to a former
photography teacher and what an
awful time for it to happen! That's
when the panic set in!
After typing all my stories Monday
night ? I figured I would need
Tuesday morning to take more
photos ? I finally went home and
straight to the shower. (Calgon, take
me away!)
I really panicked when I realised I
was locked in the bathroom and
couldn't get out, but thank goodness
my husband, though in bed, was not
yet asleep, and he came to my
rescue. All I needed was a cold night
in the bathroom!
Tuesday morning was better. I
discovered that some of my
photographic chemicals were con
taminated and my new film turned
out fine. Pat Harrell saved me with
his photos of the school accreditation
presentations and Coach Webster
graciously offered to get his team
together for a picture later.
From then on it was downhill all
the way. Although we were a little
late getting to Elisabeth City to put
the paper together (only about IS
minutes, though) Jane and I
managed to get it all done without too
many complications. ^
I'm really glad that first week is
over and that we all survived and
that the paper turned out ok. But that
week taught me some very important
lessoos that will stick with me from
now on.
First, I realised the true value of
this staff and how good it is to have
them ? especially in emergencies. .
And also ? how understanding folks
around here can be, when things ^
don't seem to be going so well.
Hope this week goes on without the
calamities, but if they should come,
we'll handle them!
[ Facing South
a syndicated column:
voices of tradition
in a changing region
DELCO, N.C. ? I was born in
Shackletown, in eastern North
Carolina, where you either chipped
boxes, collected turpentine and sold
it, or you perished. My father and all
the children that were old enough
worked hard collecting turpentine,
but even so I remember at least one
time when we would have perished
anyway if the good Lord hadn't
worked what then seemed like a
miracle.
Beck in those days ? the first
decade of this century ? there was no
bridge across the creek leading to
Whitt Well's grocery store and tur
pentine still. So when a freshet came
(? sudden overflow of the stream
after a heavy rain), it made an island
out of Shackletown. This particular
time it even washed away the fpotlog,
and none dared trying to cross the
creek to Whitt's store. It was winter,
and meal barrels were being scraped
and soup was running thin in the
kitchens of all the 12 Shackletown
families.
I believe that was the first and only
morning our family ever got up
without a mouthful to eat. The (rider
children understood, but I didn't
- Mama had chipped up collard stalks
the day before and uaed the last of the
meal making dumplings. Now it was
the afternoon of the next day and 1
was singing the news; my stomach
must have thought my throat waa
cut.
So I got to pulling her arm, begging
her to go and catch me a fish. Hungry
as the other children were, they
laughed at the idea of catching
anything during this freshet. My
brother Dempsey came back from
checking on the creek, and reported,
"The creek is running cold and hard
and it has the swamp flooded."
But I wouldn't take no for an an
swer. Finally Mama said, "For
heavens sake*. Dempsey, dig two or
three worms and we'll go show Sam
(my nickname) that we can't even
get to the run of the creek."
And oh, for the faith of a little
child! I felt like I was going to eat All
hands bundled up tight against the
cold. Dempsey led the way and
Mama came next with a short fishing
pole; further back came my three
sisters. When we came to the sharp
decline where the path led down to
the Oat swamp, we saw the water
was down some but was still too high
for us to get to the run.
more
B?t to please me. Mama baited her
hook and swung it towards mid
stream, where she let It lie oa the
bottom. We all watched but no fish
were biting.
Mama did so, and when she Jerked
she slung that pike to the top of the
hill where he fell free bf the hook. He
hit the path flouncing and was
coining down it end over end. My
sisters sUrted screaming and getting
out of the way, but I knelt in the path
and let him strike me - then grabbed
him like a fish hawk!
Up the bank I ran, holding my fish
and hollering for my sister Carrie to
come to the house and cook him for
me.
Carrie kiN. and gutted my pike.
We were out of grease and ?alt, to
Carrie colled him like a hoop in a
wide fry pan aad aet it on a feed at hot
coals In the clay daubed chimney
fireplace. The akin got to sticking and
when she tamed him, pieces of bright
flesh atuck to the pan. When she got
him about half-cooked, she set the
pan oo the table I wet* to work like a
hungry cat No salt, no greaae. no
bread, but that fish filled me up.
I walked to the door then, and aaw
Dempsey coming up (he hill with a
forked sticft strung on both sides with
fat pike. Just then 1 saw our mole and
rounding tb? btftd, ind bcrt
r- ?**
with meal, flour, lard and a box of
smoked herrings. They had gotten
across the creek. The "panic" was
over, at least for a while.
A few years later, tobacco replaced
turpentine as the main money crop.
And now the paper companies have
bought a large part of -the land m
hereabouts; the shortleaf pines ?
they've planted have curbed the
growth of the long leaf plies we used
to hatvest turpentine from. ?
Shackletown is now called
"Prosper"; and most people work at
the paper mill. The old plur
settlers have mostly passed on, and
tew remember the hard times we 1
used to have back to Oie Shackletown ?
days. |
? <
Letters
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