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SUMMERS AT OLD NAGS HEAD: The Joys of Cast Net Fishing

7/31/2019

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Just like the old days: Cast Net Fishing. (Photo courtesy of Bill Hinkle)
Photographer Bill Hinkle of Manteo takes beautiful pictures of the Outer Banks.  I began to appreciate his work on Facebook and his photography site about a year ago and when we met in person during my book signing at Kitty Hawk this past April, I realized we shared a great love for the more traditional aspects of this delicate inhabited sandbar region.  When I saw this picture of a young man cast fishing in the edge of the surf, I knew it was the perfect topic for another post about those past "Summers at Old Nags Head."

I was about ten years old when I was introduced to the joys of cast fishing.  It is, however, not something that is new but has been used by man for thousands of years, including by some of Jesus' strongest followers who fished the Sea of Galilee.  The general technique has not changed much, but the equipment is now much better.  The lines and the nets are stronger and can withstand the elements better and they are lighter, making the art of casting simpler.  Yet it takes some practice to perfect and if you don't take the time to learn it, the nets will never open when you need them to do so.

I was taught at Nags Head by an older boy who spent the summers there in the mid-twentieth century as did I.  He had been given a cast net and we would take turns practicing in the sand back from the beach, casting and retrieving and repeating those steps over and over.  The first time we tried it in the ocean, we met only limited success since the nets didn't fully open.  Finally, along came a local fisherman who showed us where we were leaving out a step by not first checking to make sure the nets had no kinks or twists.  After that, bingo, it worked.  It was somewhat similar to a golf swing in that your lower body stayed stationary with feet implanted in the sand while the twist of the upper torso and release of the net came in quick order.  Once we learned it, we never forgot it and the reward was having to spend no more money on bait.  Today, anyone who wants to learn can find good how to guides including videos on the internet to explain. I especially like an article by Chad Ferguson who shows how to cast in search of catfish. It's a technique he uses on a boat but it's quite similar to the method for oceanfront fishing. He even says there is no perfect technique, just whatever opens the net fully.  Just remember to keep the loop at the end of the handline attached snugly to your wrist or when you make the throw, there goes the net, sinkers and all.

We would catch our bait, store it in a bucket full of salt water drawn from the sea which we kept in the outside shower at the cottage.  That way, when we were ready to fish, be it surf casting or down at the pier. we were always set to go.  Sometimes when we had a bumper crop we might even make a few spending bucks from tourists fishing who thought our bait looked better than what was being sold at the pier.  I guess we were budding capitalists but didn't yet realize it.

So, as I look at the picture of that determined young lad hoping for a good catch of shiners or even small mullet run almost ashore by some blues, it makes me smile.  I think the young fellow has learned something that I never forgot but which was ingrained in my psyche during those Nags Head summers.  Sometimes the joys of life are found in the little things we do.  They don't necessarily have to cost any money but they are good things to know and experience.  I'm sure the young man will grow up realizing that as I've never forgotten. As for the beautiful work by Bill Hinkle, I offer another thank you for sharing another great photo that triggered some special memories once again.  Memories are what my "Summers at Old Nags Head," remain all about as they are permanently etched in my soul.

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That One True Friend We All Need, Even if We Don't Realize It

7/30/2019

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Where do we look to find that true friend?
I used to have a younger friend who was quite close to me,  I guess you could say that for a time I was his mentor.  He was fearless, hard charging and never let anything get in his way, sometimes handled such that it needed to be tempered.  He was probably the epitome of a good salesman.  He rolled rejection off of his back like water off a duck and never took no for an answer.  The result was that he was a high producer, yet sometimes too cocky, but he was still young.  After I retired, I lost most contact with him, but he would call from time to time and then, as things go, he had bigger fish to catch.

I thought about that younger man occasionally, probably like an older brother might look at his younger sibling and wondered how he was doing and if he might have tempered his ways. Oh, I didn't worry about his success in the working world for that would surely come, but I worried about his inner being.  Did he really understand that this world is just a training ground where we are supposed to gain wisdom and really understand what our purpose was for living this life?  I would soon find out.

One Friday evening, I was watching television as I awaited my wife's return from her then night shift duties when my cell phone rang. I didn't realize that I still had that friend of mine still on my phone call listing, but when I picked up the phone, his name appeared.  I smiled as I spoke telling him I was glad to hear from him.  I was, however, somewhat surprised by his opening comments.

Right from the start he said, "I've been reading your blogs, Jim, what's all this religious stuff about?  Come on, Man, why are you wasting your time on that God stuff?"

I must admit I was somewhat ruffled, but I merely said, "It's what I believe and I know that you, too, were raised in the church, so why does it concern you?"

He told me that he didn't think there was anything after this life, that he would live on his children.  When I asked him if he thought it would mean a black void, he said he didn't know but it didn't matter, because he would feel nothing. It would be over.

We didn't talk long and that was the last time we spoke.  I have seen his name on Facebook on a few occasions, once even wishing me well on my birthday.  But I must admit, I do from time to time include him in my prayers as I hope he realizes the joy that I have in my heart as I contemplate life in the Kingdom above.  And maybe, just maybe, he still on occasion might read my blog and I hope that he might do so today.  And what I want comes in this closing, words that most of us know and will certainly recognize.  I hope each of you will read these words for they tell us everything we need to know. Maybe he will come to that realization as well. Sometimes it just comes in our later life but I hope a sudden unexpected demise doesn't keep that from being possible for him, for we never know what might happen quickly. The answer is here in the words of Joseph Scriven when he wrote them in 1855.

What a Friend we have in Jesus,   All our sins and griefs to bear!
What a privilege to carry  everything to God in prayer!
O what peace we often forfeit,   O what needless pain we bear,
All because we do not carry  everything to God in prayer!

Have we trials and temptations?  Is there trouble anywhere?
We should never be discouraged,   Take it to the Lord in prayer.
Can we find a friend so faithful  who will all our sorrows share?
Jesus knows our every weakness,   Take it to the Lord in prayer.

Are we weak and heavy-laden,   Cumbered with a load of care?
Precious Savior, still our refuge—    Take it to the Lord in prayer;
Do thy friends, despise forsake thee?   Take it to the Lord in prayer;
In His arms He’ll take and shield thee,   Thou wilt find a solace there.


Take it to the Lord in prayer, folks, and you will get your answer.  I can't prove it to you and I'm no genius, but it will.  And the only way you can find out for yourself is to open yourself to Him and do it.  Have a blessed day, everyone.





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BE PREPARED: PRIME HURRICANE SEASON IS ALMOST HERE!

7/29/2019

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The shoreline can readily be moved as water pummels sand.
In just a couple of days, August will be here and with it will come the steady ramping up of hurricane season.  In the first part of the month, most newly developing storms start their journey quite close to the United States; they are not as disastrous but they also don't give much advance warning of their existence. In the latter two weeks, the monster storms that begin near the Cape Verde Islands off the African coast have thousands of miles of warm tropical waters to fuel a growing storm. Originating as a monsoon rain squall over tropical Africa, if the conditions are right, such a storm can be potentially deadly to all in its path.  Storms of this are not unusual in late August, all of September and into early October.  But, even then, remember that official hurricane season doesn't end until November thirtieth.

If the conditions don't generate an El Nino pattern out of the warm Pacific, the trade winds from the east will predominate and push the growing storm over the source of fuel, very warm tropical Atlantic water.  Without an El Nino, there is often no winds strong enough from the west to sheer the top off the storm and weaken it. With the major winds from the east and the center of the storm sucking up huge volumes of water, an updraft is created and the natural higher pressure to its outside pulls in the lighter winds from the west that the storm passes through. This results in a tightly packed mass with an open stove top center vent commonly known as the eye and a counter-clockwise circulation.  The tighter the spin and the warmer the water, the stronger the storm. As it nears the Caribbean, however, the air gradients ahead of it will determine the continued course.  If the north is blocked by a Bermuda high, it can't make the gradual turn to the north which the spinning globe will naturally produce. If there is no blockage, it will start turning north when the conditions are most conducive with pressure and fronts developing. When it turns early, heading close to the United States mainland and the Eastern Seaboard, this is when the geography, winds and currents of the Atlantic can make the Outer Banks a prime target.

Why?  Because Cape Hatteras sticks out like a target and it is impacted by two dramatic and powerful currents, the Labrador Current which is moving south with cold water close to shore and the Gulf Stream, which is larger and broader, yet slower, moving out of the Gulf Stream and bringing much warmer water within twelve miles of the beach at the Cape where it collides with the Labrador, hence the creation of Diamond Shoals.  That collision is impressive even in calm water, but when it is in the middle of a major storm it is awesome, waves spewing water high like a geyser in the ocean. Since the storms are fueled by warm water, it's almost like the storm has a life of it's own, choosing the warm water to follow if it can.  Of, course, a major front or other factor can void that plan, but if you look at hurricane record charts, it's amazing how many storms heading up the East Coast follow very close  to that track.

So, what is my message here? Well, quite simply its this. If you plan to vacation on the Outer Banks in August, September or even early October, be aware that your chosen time is the most likely time frame for an Outer Banks hurricane hit.  Now, that doesn't happen every year, but it is a not an unusual occurrence either and it should be recognized. Also realize that if you have to leave early, most establishments don't give refunds and even if you plan to come back the following day when the storm passes, it's likely you won't be allowed to.  When the all clear to return is given, first responders and year round residents get first choice and often for them it can just be to check on things and save what they can, depending on the seriousness of the event. Just be advised so that you aren't disappointed.

As for me, I like later fall, late October or November and the spring. But even then, a massive nor'easter can blow in without much notice as well.  I guess it just means when you choose to visit a beach that's right out there looking like it wants a fight, sometimes it gets one from Mother Nature. I hope the information is worthwhile and I'll pray that we escape major hurricanes again this year across the East.

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Notice how the Outer Banks are in the bulseye range for East Coast hurricanes. (courtesy NOAA)
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SUNDAY MORNING COMING DOWN: LIVE EVERY DAY LIKE IT'S SUNDAY!

7/28/2019

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Nags Head Baptist Church (circa 1990) Photo: Bobby Culpepper
The picture above is of the church where I attended Sunday school and church as a boy while at Nags Head.  It was the Nags Head Baptist Church and my Aunt Sylvia was my Sunday school teacher and a devoted woman of God.  She knew her Bible, she knew how to explain it to children in an understandable way and she introduced us to beautiful hymns of faith that we all learned and remembered well.  The building above is no longer the main facility for the church which has greatly expanded and prospered, but it served the community well in those earlier times and it was also the place where I bid a final adieu to Aunt Sylvia in July 1991 after she passed away.  She and her husband, Uncle Hal are interred in the Cudworth Cemetery in Wanchese on Roanoke Island.

So, why do I put up this picture on this Sunday Morning Coming Down and what do I want the reader to take from it?  Quite simply, it's this: Sunday is the Lord's special day each week, a day when we are expected to spend time with Him in His House and praise and thank Him for the blessings He has bestowed.  Here in America, even the poorest of us is generally better off than ninety percent of the population of the world and it is our responsibility to show our gratitude to Him by our worship, our prayer, our commitment to reading and understanding His Book and then living our lives in a way that He expects. After all, we were made in His image, so why wouldn't we want to be as much like Him as possible?

But there is more that we need to consider.  If Sunday is a day when we devote time to gathering together with other Christians in worship with song and prayer and the Word, why do we so often just shelve the Bible and ignore the other aspects of God's requests for so much of the rest of the week?  Why is it we have so much trouble remembering that by keeping in tune with His love and grace every day of the week that our faith and our lives.will be so much more enriched?

The answer is simple. We live in a secular world where so many of us are afraid to speak up and make waves for Christ for we are fearful that we will be scorned, ridiculed and mocked.  And yes, it's true that those happen to professing Christians, yet how come some among us are fearless and stand strong anyway?  Why can't we be like that since Jesus warned us of what would become of this world and it's just doing what He told us would happen?

The answer is that we can stand up?  All we have to do is keep the heart open, listen to the wise counsel of the Holy Spirit within  us, reinforce that strength with prayer, the Word and fellowship with others of strong belief and just do it.  After all, by following His wishes for us it is pleasing to Him and any pain we might face will never be more than we can withstand.   That's a promise that the Father and Son both have made to us.  And in the end, it will secure our destiny in His Kingdom at His table where He has prepared a place for us.

With the rest of your life, be an Onward Christian Soldier marching on to War.  I'm not talking about the traditional war of mankind but the war of the Spirit, turning Satan away at every turn and showing the strength that a believing Christian should have and display. That is the route to Salvation and Life Eternal.  Aunt Sylvia knew it and I know she is home with the Savior.  I want to join her there when my time on this earth is over as well.  Have a most blessed Lord's Day and keep Sunday alive every day in thought, word and action.  That, in the end, will never fail you.


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Nags Head, Rainy Fridays and Boys of Different Ages at the Beach

7/26/2019

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A rainy day was never gloomy at the beach.
I will always remember those days of "Summers at Old Nags Head."  For some reason the beach kept them from ever being gloomy and when it happened on a Friday as a young boy, we were excited that the weekend was near and had a sunny disposition to boot. Why?  Because Friday meant Dad would be back for the weekend sometime in the afternoon and that was always a special occasion.  Sometimes we would have guests coming as well and we knew when that was the case, meals would be special, for Mom always put together a super fantastic menu when friends were joining us.  Aunt Sylvia added to the offering with a special dessert, maybe a yummy marshmallow iced pineapple upside down cake, a Boston creme pie or even home churned peach ice cream.  To this day I have never had more delicious ice cream than her smooth peach variety.

In those younger childhood years, a rainy day meant playing under the house. Friends nearby who lived in or rented cottages not so highly elevated would come over and we'd play under the house and do such things as build  a sand super highway to match any of today's interstates.  All we needed was a shovel or old shingle to move the sand around, a bucket of water for packing sand to build overpasses and we could keep going for hours without bothering anyone.  And we always brought with us one of those small transistor radios that could pick-up my favorite Newport News station, WGH, and we'd listen to the favorites of the day as we did our work.  In the end, when we were done and ready to go back inside, we'd smooth out the road and turn the sand back the way it was before we started.

After my dad died and I grew older, my routine would change and my thoughts moved to different things. From age twelve on girls were likely prominent in the picture.  Since Sunday was the start of the vacation rental week, if we met a girl earlier in the week who was there with family, it was probably at the Nags Head Recreation Center just a short walk up the beach by the Nags Head Fishing Pier.  For those who either couldn't pass for being older or weren't willing to chance it, a visit to the big nightspot down the road know as the Casino was out of the question.  So, the big skating rink was the drawing card since all the young ladies loved to skate.  Where the girls were was where the boys would congregate and if we found a girl with a mutual infatuation by Friday we were beginning to hate to see the week end because she would be leaving.  On a few occasions, we might meet a girl who came back every summer and it was always wonderful to see them again the next year.  It was harmless, just part of growing up but in those days a kiss under the moon and stars with a pretty girl was pretty special.  But it required putting up with lots of blisters and falls on skates to get their attention. Perhaps at that young age it was a great way to improve pain tolerance for we could never let a girl know we hurt ourselves.

So, what else would a teenager do on a rainy Friday?  Well, card games, Scrabble and even reading a great beach book like The Hatterasman, The Old Man and the Sea, Graveyard of the Atlantic or in the latter years, even David Stick's classic about the Great Ash Wednesday storm was enjoyable in the cool, salty air.  And if it was just rain without thunder and lightning, even a nice walk with friends along the ocean and perhaps including the climb of Jockey's Ridge was fun.  Rain or shine, on the walk back home we'd always stop at the Snow Bird for what my Uncle Hal called that delicions "Blowed Up Foam."  Truth be told, a rainy day was just as wonderful as a sunny one on that wonderful beach and, if we had too much sun, it offered a soothing respite when it was needed.

But those days back in the '50's and '60's were different. It was still a family beach, everyone knew each other and there was no crime to speak of.  Kids could be devilish, but we knew our limits and we'd never back talk an adult or say another other than "Yes, Sir" and "Yes, Ma'am" unless we were asked. They were beautiful times, special times and they were the days of  "Summers at Old Nags Head."

Find "Summers at Old Nags Head" and my other Outer Banks book, "The Long Road Back," here in paperback and FREE with Kindle Unlimited: amazon.com/author/jamesdick.  You may have to cut and paste to your browser. They can also be found at Muse Originals OBX in Kitty Hawk at MP2.5 on the beach road.

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The long rectangular buiding to the right foreground of the fishing pier was the Recreation Center (circa 1952).
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HAPPY ENDING STORY TIME: The Poor Little Boy With a Very Big Gift

7/25/2019

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God gives us all a special gift. Sometimes we just have to find it.
His name was Joseph and he was eight years old.  He lived on the poor side of town in a small city and was being raised by his poor grandmother.  He knew not who his father was and his grandmother told him with a frown that his mother worked nights and had no time for him.  He didn't know what that meant but he knew it wasn't good.  He went to school and got good grades but was scorned by other kids who had more expensive things and dressed better.  But he knew he was blessed to have a grandmother who, although getting old, loved him and gave him enough to eat, a place to stay and at least his hand-me-down clothes were clean.  The one thing that made him happy was singing and his grandmother told him he was a natural, but he didn't join the choir because he was a afraid of being ridiculed because of being poor.

Since starting elementary school two year earlier, he always noticed an older man who sat on the side of a street on the edge of downtown, singing with a guitar for tips in his cup.  He thought the man was fantastic at the guitar but that his singing needed to be only as a back-up role.  So, one day he just decided to listen and see if the man would talk with him. For the first time really noticing the man, Joseph realized that he had a withered leg that he had to stretch out flat when he sat and could only walk with the help of a cane. Joseph was at that moment the only person around, so the man, named Ray, decided to start a conversation.

"Hello, young man," he said.  "My name is Ray and I've seen you walk by many times but what made you stop today.  I'm glad to have your company."

Joseph was embarrassed to bring up his singing, so instead asked, "Why do you come here everyday and play your guitar? I love the way you play."

Ray smiled and said, "I'm pretty good at it but, judging from your words, you know my singing isn't very good."

As the conversation continued, Joseph asked him why he was here on the corner so often and he said it was his job, that after he came home from Vietnam disabled and as a broken man to find his wife had left with his two children, he just wanted to disappear onto the street.  Joseph told him about his own situation and Ray sympathized, saying that he himself had been fortunate to at least have a good childhood with loving parents.

Ray was clean and neat, clean shaven, too, and he told Joseph he made enough money in this gig to put a roof over his head with a safe place and a bed to sleep in, food in his belly and clean clothes on every day. He really didn't expect anything more in this world. He said he was a man of faith and would look forward to the next world with peace, harmony and kindness everywhere. He also came forth with a particular question for Joseph.

He asked, "Joseph, do you like to sing and how is your voice? What kind of music do you like."

Joseph's eyes were bright and he smiled as he said, "I love to sing, Mr. Ray. My grandmother says my voice is beautiful but you might not think so. And I love the old spirituals and the older Methodist hymns. I go to the African Methodist Episcopal Church."

Ray suggested they give it a try, starting with Amazing Grace.  He handed Joseph an old hymnal in case he didn't know the words.  As they began, Ray's energy on the guitar was increased by the beautiful young voice that he heard and he softly harmonized in the background, realizing that was the limit of his singing voice.  Before the first hymn was done, they drew a crowd and so they kept on and on.  When they decided to finally call it a day, Ray had fifty dollars in his cup, about double his usual take. He offered Joseph half but Joseph said that was too much, saying Ray needed the money to live and he didn't.  Ray insisted that he take at least twenty dollars and then he made an offer.

Ray said, "Want to make this a regular, say on Tuesday and Friday afternoons after school and on Saturday when the shopping traffic is heavy?"

Joseph was ecstatic, saying, "Well, Mr. Ray, what I've earned today is a lot more than I can get hustling stores for a sweep and mop job or other clean up.  Let's do it."

Over the next six months, young Joseph had earned over seven hundred dollars, spending very little for himself, giving five hundred to his grandmother to help with things and putting two hundred in his savings envelope in the bottom of his dresser.  And that doubled over the next few months while their fame spread throughout the town.  Then, on a Saturday morning,  the minister of the church Joseph attended with his grandmother stopped to listen, put a twenty in the cup and told them he'd be back the following week with others.

The following week, just as promised, Pastor Wells arrived with several church council members to listen, each giving money as the listened and asking Ray and Joseph to meet with them.  They were offered a weekly gig for cash at the Wednesday night prayer meeting and since Joseph usually was there with his grandmother, it was agreeable to all.

Now well known by both the local community and the local church, they were invited to perform on occasion during Sunday services and Joseph committed to joining the choir and adding his melodic voice to the music program.  All of these activities continued as Joseph grew and by the time he was a rising senior in the local high school, he was asked to come to a church council meeting by  Pastor Wells.  His grandmother told him to go alone, that the church had something important to discuss with him.

Sure enough, as he entered the church dressed in a suit and tie the Pastor, on behalf of the church as well as higher church authority, offered him a full scholarship to attend the Bible Music College to study voice and instrumentation, for Joseph was now showing promise with the piano as well.

"I have to warn you, Joseph," the Pastor said solemnly. "The scholarship is for full room and board but all of your incidentals and travel are on you."

Joseph smiled as he said, "Pastor, I've been saving lots of money from my gig with Ray and the Wednesday night performances.  I'm excited and ready to make the Church proud."

Well, I will end the story now for I want readers to reach a conclusion with the imaginative spirit. What happened to Ray?  How far did Joseph go with his music?  They can go anywhere we want to take them, but the important point of the story is to point out that each of us, no matter how smart, rich, poor or capable we are, has a special gift that He put us on this earth to use for His glory.  Have you found yours?  Are you still seeking it? Do you know where to look for the answer?

The answer to the last question is simple.  Just open your heart, let the Holy Spirit engulf you and let God help you find that answer. Do that, and you'll find it and who knows where it will lead you, but you can assured that it will lead you where God wants you to be. And when you enthusiastically reach that point, your future is secured.

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PARADISE LOST: "They'll Do What They're Gonna' Do"

7/24/2019

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Nags Head beach in the 1970's: Looking over the Nags Head Fishing Pier toward Jockey's Ridge.
The picture shown above of Nags Head in the 1970's was very popular in its day. It was used by a number of restaurants on their souvenir paper place mats as well as on a post card and it gives a pretty good picture of just how tall Jockey's Ridge used to be and how there was still a lot of open space left in the scrub flats west of the beach road. That area, by the way, served as a filtering system to allow flood waters from storms and tides to percolate through the sand as nature intended. The beachfront had considerably more build-up than it did in my boyhood days of the 1950's and early '60's, but the massive build-up of today had not yet impacted the by-pass road.  It served its original purpose of allowing through traffic to easily transit through the beaches on its way to Manteo and Roanoke Island or Hatteras Island. 

This was about the time that I started going farther south to Rodanthe when I wanted to enjoy the beach. It was much more reminiscent of my childhood days and with our small three member family,  I would rent an efficiency at the motel next to the Rodanthe Pier, the one that washed away later in a hurricane. We only used it to rest and perhaps prepare a sandwich for lunch, and the rest of the time was spent on the beach or visiting on Roanoke Island. It was a great spot to stay on a special fishing trip with friends as well.

Later in the '80's and even early '90's, we would go even  farther south to Hatteras Village. My in-laws had a small house near the sound which we used as a base camp for surfcasting trips. Fishing in the ocean off Cape Hatteras Point was always a special treat and with a four-wheel drive Jeep to get there it offered good times for sure. During this timeframe, I also escorted my mother to her seventieth anniversary of graduation from Manteo High School and I delighted in the stories her classmates told me about how my mother was quite the tomboy in high school.  It was during that trip that I rented  rooms for the night on the oceanfront so that we didn't have to drive back to Newport News in the late hours. On that warm evening, we sat out on the balcony, enjoying the night ocean breeze and the sounds of the ocean as the waves rhythmically came ashore. It was then that my Mom told me that she was glad we came but she also didn't think it was home anymore.

My mind remembered what my Uncle Hal told me when we talked abut the new road shortly after it opened. 

He simply said, "Son, they'll do what they are gonna' do."

Every time I would come to the beach in those days, even if I wasn't staying in Nags Head I would always stop by and see Aunt Sylvia.  She was now showing her age and missed Uncle Hal who had died, but she always had an encouraging words and an abundance of food and she wouldn't let me go without partaking of one of her special meals. She loved to reminisce about the old days and my childhood and was deeply saddened by the massive change to the beach community she called home since leaving Wanchese. She was like that until her dying day and was one of the sweetest and most faithful of people who ever graced this earth.

Mom's comment told me that she agreed with her older sister and that the beach that she saw was not the one that she remembered.  And this is not an indictment of younger generations and their desire to change it to include modern amenities for technical advancement, an active nightlife and more things to be entertained by. It just means tht they have never experienced the simple joys of growing up in a time when one doesn't have to make his or her entertainment to be satisfied.  That satisfaction came from a walk on the beach, skimming shells on a quiet ocean or even creating make believe roads in the sand using an old shingle instead of fancy equipment. It's really just as simple as that.

Excepting my recent trip to Nags Head and the beaches this past April, my final trip to the Outer Banks was in July 1991 when I brought Mom and my sister to Aunt Sylvia's funeral.  It was a hot day and the church was packed and it touched me deeply, especially the singing of "Jesus Loves Me," which brought me to tears as I remembered her singing that to comfort me late one night in the cottage during a hurricane.  And when we left after a special reception and headed home, I knew there was now no reason for me to come back since I agreed with my mom's assessment.

And now, after visiting one more time this past spring, I know that Nags Head and the Outer Banks is a place for someone with different views of a beach than those I hold.  Seeing a quaint small family place turned into just another "same old, same old" tourist trip just isn't appealing to me, but I accept the fact that for many it's just fine, so I'll leave it to them.  I do hope, however, that enough common sense will prevail sometime in the near future to limit where it goes from here for the fragile banks can only be pushed so far and when that point is surpassed, something massive will take place to counter the trend and that will be done by nature.  The sea with its waves and surges and the supporting elements always win in the end.  I truly hope that point hasn't already been breached and I'll just pray that it isn't a disaster like what happened back on Oak Island in 1954 or the Great Ash Wednesday Storm of 1962 across the Outer Banks.  When and if that happens, with all of the added development and throngs of humanity and no infrastructure to deal with it, the Banks will likely be uninhabitable in the future.

If you enjoy savoring the beauty and simplicity of a softer time, you might enjoy my book, "Summers at Old Nags Head".  It available at this link, just copy and paste to your browser to learn more about this and my other Nags Head-related book: amazon.com/author/jamesdick.

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Nags Head oceanfront, circa 1950. From the Old Nags Header to the Nags Head Fishing Pier.
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TRAGEDY AT THE BEACH: Sadly, Sometimes it Can't Be Avoided

7/23/2019

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Pictured above are photos from 1954 of Oak Island, North Carolina, a beach which was destroyed by Hurricane Hazel when the October storm came ashore.  Oak Island rebuilt and is now once again a popular beach for vacationers desirous of having fun on the shore.  While that and any beach on the North Carolina shore from the Outer Banks all the way to South Carolina understand the perilous nature of their existence, Oak Island or any other beach certainly doesn't expect a tragedy at a time of fair weather and following seas.  Tragedy, however, waits for no certain weather or place to strike, for freak situations sometimes fool even the wisest of experts. Oak Island experienced just such a situation this past weekend.

Lee Pringle, a man in his late twenties and a loving husband and father of six children, happened to find himself in the position of facing just one of those perfectly aligned dangerous situation.  Accompanied by three of his children and with his wife right there on the beach, he was in standing water and floating up and over the waves just before they crested when one wave crested earlier and smacked him in the head so hard that it drove him head first into the sand, instantly breaking his neck.  His children and others near him carried him out of the surf but the damage was done.  With his throat swelling from the bruising wave, he lost oxygen until it was restored later and he died the next day.  Who would have expected such tragedy on a nice family day at the beach.

Don't think such accidents can't happen to you, for even on the Outer Banks I remember when Michael Johnson, co-owner with his wife of OBX Attitude in Avon, had a harrowing accident a year ago while riding waves.  And while he recovered, Michael went through a painful and grueling recovery process that I know he will never forget.  And what do such accidents tell us?

Well, it's very simple and it's that things can happen in a flash that can turn life upside down in an instant.  So, while you aren't supposed to stop having fun and living life to it's fullest, just be careful out there and realize that life is short.  And in the case of Lee Pringle, a man who rose to the top of his engineering company in Raleigh where he recently became company president, it's particularly tragic.  He was a fine man, not only making it to the top in his profession as a young man, but four of his children were adopted.  This good man who used his success to help others in need will be sorely missed in his community.  Our prayers most certainly need to go out to his wife and children and the word is out that there is a Go Fund Me page for his family. I'm sure they would appreciate any help any of us can provide for raising six children by a young mother without her husband is truly a daunting task.

Be careful out there, my friends. And whatever you think your fate will be when this life on earth is done, make your decisions and plans for it today.  This tragic story shows us that you might be given the opportunity for a deathbed repentance. Sometimes things don't work out that way.

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PAIN AND SUFFERING: Why Sometimes God Expects Us to Bear It

7/23/2019

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Why, Lord, Why?
And not only that, but we also glory in tribulations, knowing that tribulation produces perseverance;  and perseverance, character; and character, hope.  Now hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out in our hearts by the Holy Spirit who was given to us.
                                                                              - Romans 5:3-5 (NKJV)


I had a bad night last night. As I exhibit the natural signs of aging, arthritis and peripheral neuropathy have become an unavoidable part of my life.  Most of the time it is handled effectively with medication and physical therapy, but on occasions like last night it was worse than normal and kept me from sleeping.  When this first began to impact me, I looked at it from the perspective of feeling sorry for myself and then, realizing that would only lead to bitterness and a lot of wasted time if I let it,  I decided to take it to God and turn it over to him.  After that, and looking around the world before me, I came to realize that I am so fortunate compared to so many others, while also realizing there was a godly reason for my pain.  After all, if the only sinless man ever to live, a man who was also a major component of God Himself, could die on the cross so horribly without ever committing a sin, how could I, a sinful mortal, expect not to have pain?  The answer is that I couldn't and shouldn't, so when I have my little bouts like last night that keep me from sleeping, it's something I must accept, deal with, and labor on.  I am fortunate to have medications and a good doctor to help me with it, but on nights like last night they just don't work, so I turn my pain over to God and ask Him to keep me doing my part to live on in His image as best I can.  And it truly does lessen the pain when I do that.

As Paul wrote, the tribulation that we call pain produces perseverance, which produces character, which produces hope.  And hope as a Christian means that God has given us the greatest gift that could ever be given a human.  At the very moment that His only Son, Jesus Christ, exhaled his final breath as Man and died, all, past, present and future generations of the human race were given forgiveness for our sins. And what that means is the only other thing we must do to gain that forgiveness is to accept His offer by turning our lives over to Him, believing in Him by faith and living as He wants us to do.  That's pretty astounding, don't you think?

So, when next we must deal with pain or suffering, think about what it represents in our relationship with God and treat it accordingly.  And just think, when we persevere and develop character and find the hope that comes from Christ, when all is said and done on this earth  we will inherit a new life with Him in heaven above, a life that will be new with a fresh and vibrant body and one which will have no pain.  Hallelujah!

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When You Want Success, Get the Best Mentor, One Who is Waiting for You

7/22/2019

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The Greatest Mentor in the Universe
For those of us who truly seek to be accomplished in whatever it is we hope to do, two words are critical.  The first is success, although it shows itself as a final product of our endeavor. The second is the word mentor, for to be successful in a complex world means we must have someone at our side, someone who encourages us, motivates us and guides us along the way.  If we don't find or develop a relationship with a good mentor, we are less likely to ever attain our full potential in life, for we will frequently stumble and bumble along, uncertain of what to do and thereby become less capable of making the important moves in a timely way to reach our ultimate objective.

Being a success is many different things to many different people and success isn't limited to the working world although it is the area that we most often relate it to.  But success is needed in so many things we do as we pass through this life. We want to be a success as a student, husband or wife, a parent, an adult child with older parents, a good friend,  a good sportsman in whatever endeavor we choose for fun, even a great producer of whatever we create in our hobbies.  And each of these things is difficult in its own way and, just like in the working world, we need others in our lives who have the time and inclination to give us moral encouragement and support.  So, the selection of a seasoned person who has experience in the area of our endeavor who we trust is very valuable to help us make the right decisions. But we really need more than that because any human is mortal and makes mistakes and sometimes they may not clearly understand what is important to us. This, in turn, can head us in the wrong direction.  What should we do you in such an instance or whenever we need help?

Well, if we are believers in the Christian faith, the answer should be very clear, for the answer man in the guidance department is right inside us waiting for our call.  Just open our hearts to Him, let the Holy Spirit fill us with the Spirit until it is overflowing and ask Him the question.  As the most recent and third person revealed of the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, the One who is both God of Israel and our Christian God and Father of the Christ, He has the tools to give us the answer we need and if, when we follow His guidance, it will enhance the good things that our earthly mentor advised.  With the great wisdom of God that He possesses, He can also tip us off if it's not the right thing for us and lead us down the correct path.

Think of it this way.  Remember that popular slogan not too many years ago, "Thing go better with Coke?"  Well, why not substitute God for Coke in that slogan and take it as your own. After all, God made us in His image and wants us to live as He asks us to. So, when we take the Holy Spirit as our counsel, He will lead us there and when we add His dimension as the ultimate mentor to our life plans, what could be better than that? Nothing, because mentoring us in all things human, He is also the one to link us to our Advocate with God, Jesus, and the connection then also can lead us to Eternity.

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    Hi, I'm James, a writer who studies nature,  animals and all things created by God. I also write from time to time about what I think God expects of us.  I would love to hear your thoughts on these subjects. I hope you enjoy my comments.

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