Perspective
still hunting tor those three missing hard-boiled taster eggs?
Easter: a season for hope and renewal for many
Easter would not be the same if cel
ebrated anytime other than in the
Spring.
Sure, Easter is a profoundly reli
gious occasion, but it is associated
with so many customs and traditions
that it is often difficult to decide ex
actly what it means. It is certainly a
time of rebirth; everything seems to
take on nes life this time of year. For
some, Easter means different things.
For the fashion minded there is the
life and times of the Easter parade,
or whatever happened to the Easter
bonnet? For theartistic, there is the
decorated egg; for the competitive,
the egg hunt; for animal lovers, the
bunny and colored biddies.
It is believed Easter derives its
name from an ancient Teutonic de
ity, the goddess Eostre. A festival in
honor of the goddess was celebrated
every Spring, and when the Ressur
rection of Christ became a moving
Christian celebration, it has become
a seasonal day of remembering. By
any name, it is a time to rediscover
the miraculous joy of life.
This is the time of year when the
lifegiving breath of Spring begins to
cause the grass to grow and the
leaves to bloom and the buds to blos
som. Even when celebrated in
March, Easter is a sure sign that
Spring is on its way.
At Christmas, it is customary to ex
change gifts and at New Year's to ex
change resolutions. Easter seems to
be the season of hope and good
wishes and moral communion. In
many ways, it is the year's most spir
itual occasion, a time for renewed
faith.
I'm not especially speaking of faith
in the formal religious sense nor in
terms of relationship between man
and his maker. But rather, of the
kind of faith on which the greatest of
human progress has always been
based., .faith in our fellow man. We so
often dwell on the things which divide
us; the prejudices; the distrusts, the
suspicisions, the isolation, that we
are apt to lose sight of the extent to
which humanity means compassion,
love, brotherhood, sympathy and for
giveness.
We are taught that the very sense
of Easter is the sacrifice God made
for each of us by sending his son to
give his life in order that we might
have eternal life. By doing so, God
sent us the message of love for one
another. By the Resurrection, he told
us it is never to late to begin again. A
message that tells us, if we really
want to know life, even while we live,
that such is possible.
I don't think God has asked us to
die to prove our love for our fellow
man. I believe he does want us to
judge and treat others as we would
like to be.
I believe he wants us to learn the
kindness of forgiving and by doing so,
we offer others a change of resur
rection while renewing our lives.
I often think back this time of year
to Easter's past, and I am reminded
of how special this season has been
for me. While my family celebrated
the holiday in the same tradition as
most people, we were always re
minded that Easter meant more than
colored eggs, bunnies, new outfits to
wear to church. Easter reminded us
there is always an opportunity for a
renewal of life. As everything around
us comes forth to face a new season,
so can we.
Put on your new Spring clothes if
you want, add a flower, go to Easter
services, have your traditional egg
hunt, fix a basket for that special per
son. All are traditions of this very
special holiday. But most of all, re
member this is a season of hope and
renewal for those wiling to begin
again.
Perquimans County flag flies over Fort Bartow
Confederate forces were unable to
withstand the combined military and
naval expedition Ambrose Burnside
threw against the North Carolina
coast in February 1862. Roanoke Is
land and other southern positions
were captured, and the entire Albe
marle was now open to attack.
Several of the men stationed at
Fort Bartow on Roanoke Island
(members of the "John Harvey
Guards", Company I, Seventeenth
Regiment) were singled out for
praise in their commanding officer's
report of the fall of that defense.
"I desire to state that the officers
and men under my command did
Berry receives award
P.C.H.S. Honor Grads: Martha
Jane Evans and Donald Edward
Perry have been named valedicto
rium and salutatorium, respectively,
of the graduating class of Perqui
mans County High School. Jane is the
daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Lloyd
Evans of Route 1, Hertford. Donald is
the son of Mr. and Mrs. Dewey
Perry, Jr., Rt. I, Hertford. In addi
tion to these two students, twelve
other students made the Grad Honor
Roll. They were: Susan Harrell,
Brenda Baccus, Douglas Haskett, Di
anne Stallings, Louise Ivey, Cindy
Winslow, Don Morgan, Cheryl Cope
land, Mike Bunch, Linda Long, Mark
Thompson, and Elizabeth Ivey. In or
der to get on the Grand Honor Roll, a
student must have a ninety (90) aver
age for the four years of high school.
B.C. Berry, Jr. Receives Honor: B.
Carroll Berry, Jr., CLU of the At
lanta, Ga. Agency has been named to
the President's Council for 1969 with
the Home Life Insurance Company,
New York. Membership in the Presi
dent's Council is Home Life's highest
honor, reserved for the top men in the
company's field organization. Berry
presently serves as President of the
800 member Atlanta Life Underwrit
ers Association. Berry is the son of
Mr. and Mrs. B.C. Berry, Sr. of Hert
ford.
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their duty manfully and with skill
and courage. Special commendation
is due to... Lieutenant (Thomas H.)
Gilliam of Company I, also to... Ser
geant (Francis) Barrow and Pri
vates Jacocks and (Henry C.) Stokes
of Company I."
(There were tow privates named
Jacocks, and it is not certain whether
Hardy H. Jacocks or John H. Jacocks
was the one commended. The boys
were brothers, sons of General Jona
than H. Jacocks. )
A special act of heroism was re
ported. "During the bombardment of
Fort Bartow a cannon shot cut down
the flag-staff. Instantly Lieutenant
Thomas H. Gilliam sprang upon the
parapet, amid the storm of shot and
shell, and firmly planted the beauti
ful silk color of the John Harvey
Guards which waved until the. order
to retire was received."
Thus a Perquimans County flag
was the last Confederate banner to
fly over Fort Bartow.
Apparently only one of the Perqui
mans men on Roanoke Island was
able to escape, Private Exum White
head. (Drummer Joseph T. McCabe
also escaped, and Private Caleb D.
Bell drowned; they were not Perqui
mans men, however, but transfers to
the "John Harvey Guards" from
other units.)
The other "John Harvey Guards"
from Captain Lucius J. Johnson
down to James R. Wiggins (the last
private on the roster) were captured
by Federal troops on February 8,
1862. The men were kept at Roanoke
Island for some days, then sent to
Elizabeth City, where they were pa
roled on February 21.
(Under the rules of war then ob
served, soldiers on parole were ex
pected to refrain from any further
military activity until an exchange of
prisoners had been effected. These
Perquimans men were exchanged in
August 1862, and many of them re
joined Captain Johnson in service in
May 1863.)
The proceeding of prisoneers was
behind the scenes, however.
After taking Roanoke Island, the
main body of Union forces headed for
Elizabeth City? and Hertford.
(Part S next week)
THE
PERQUIMANS WEEKLY
Established In 1932
Published Each Thursday By The Daily Advance, Elizabeth City, N.C.
Second Class Postage Paid at Hertford, N C. 27944 USPS 428-000
Giiu K. Jepson
Editor
Anzi? L Wood
Advertising Manager
ONE YEAR MAIL SUBSCRIPTION RATES
Iri-County Out-Of-County
$10.00 41.00
1 1 9 West Grubb Street
P.O. Box 277
Hertford, N.C. 27944
Member
North Carolina Press Association
National Newspaper Association
North Carolina Association of Community Newspapers
When he was young^
Hie dirt road was so narrow that it
virtually disappeared into the woods.
He drove slowly, to accomodate the
bumps. The limbs were so close they
occasionally brushed against the
truck. And then, exactly as it had
been for years, was the little house he
grew up in. . . just an old wooden build
ing, melting into the ground, covered
with vined and hapharzardly leaning
to one side. He guessed the vines
were about the only thing holding the
place together. They said he ought to
tear it down and plow the yard under
for farm land, but he had never been
able to hold a match to it.
When the hustle and bustle of the
modern world became too real, he'd
just get in his truck and come back
here. Back home. Back to where he
could still imagine pound cakes cool
ing on the high shelf of the wood stove
and visualize the ax anchored in the
stump beside the barn. Back to
where nothing lived but sparrows
and rabbits, and memories, and
where there was no sign of life except
the life that once was here but now
lay beneath barely legible markers
that loomed up from the meadow
grasses like a group of ghosts clus
tered together. Back to a place that,
was once all the world he knew or
cared to know, or thought there was.
When he was young.
He parked the truck. With arms
folded across his chest, he studied the
place that, though now hosted decay,
was once the realized dreams of his
ancestors.
He remembered the time his daddy
got drunk and beat his mama so bad
it took nearly the whole summer for
her face to heal. He recalled how the
two of them had cried while he clung
to his mama's skirt the day they bur
ied his twin who was tramped to
death in the horse's stall.
And he remembered how his daddy
had slammed the door in his sister's
face when she came home to tell
them she had run off and married,
and all the years after that when
they'd meet her on the road some
where and his daddy would turn his
head to keep from looking at her or
her babies.
He remembered. Including the
pain of the years spent here, of par
ents who were so strict he couldn't
breathe without fear, parents who
were so hard and brittle that he w<?^
dered why they didn't bust open like
an overripe watermelon in the sun.
But there were also Christmas
mornings with a sock full of candy
and a homemade toy, lemonade be
neath the oaks, his first love in the
hayloft, and the day his daddy
slipped a dollar in his pocket when he
left home for the war.
And especially tho6e last years, vi^|v
ing the two of them out here, so mt. '
low they cried just at the sight of him,
so emotional that it embarrassed him
to come at all.
The passage of time had scarred
both the old house and his heart, but
it had not obsured the memories. He
came, this time, for the truth. Not to
romance the ruins, but for honest re
flections of what really happened out
here in this place.
And, when he finally drove aw?-v
that April afternoon, he admitted fo.
the first time in his life that all had
not been beautiful here when he was
young. That this old shamble of
weathered boards barely holding to
gether, bore true witness of some
one's passage through time. ..without
a sugared coating. And a witness to
life. His Life. The way it really was.
When he was young.
Letters to the editor
Editor
The Perquimans Weekly,
A recent Jack Anderson column
quotes Surgeon General Koop re
garding AIDS: When you are faced
with a lethel epidemic that is dou
bling every thirteen months. ..you
have to do something." What we
should immediately do is surrender
our hypocrisy.
When hypocrisy hurts only the hy
pocrits, it's bad enough, but when it
starts killing people, it's unbearable.
A leading cause of unwanted preg
nancies, AIDS, and other veneral dis
eases is our silence, our raticant em
barrassment, our hypocrisy about
sex.
Let's learn to discuss sex openly,
clinically. Let's make sex boring.
Let's award a medal for bravery to
Koop and to the minister who pre
ached a sermon about condoms and
then distributed then to the congrega
tion. Then let's follow their exam
ples. I have read that the main rea
son teenagers do not use condoms is
that condoms are difficult .to buy
anonymously. It's embarrassing to
buy a condom a person, embarrass
ing because of our hypocrisy. Let's
remove the embarrassment by mak
ing condoms available everywhere
through vending machines, as avail
able as cigarettes. We could begin til
placing machines in all buildings:
public schools, colleges, and state of
fice buildings. Of course, some will
say that we are promoting promiscu
ity, but they probably lie about other
things, too. What we are promoting is
honesty and responsibility. Let's
change our minds about condoms.
Let's replace the saying, "having sex
with a condom is like washing you
feet with your socks on," with an
other that each of us should say totf)
potential sex partner: "No glove, no
love."
Jim Bridges
504 Terry St.
Elizabeth City, N.C. 27909
(919) 338-8177
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426-9728