EDITOR'S NOTES: Historical news provides context to reports

By David Kennard

   One of the fun parts of my job here at the Robesonian provides the opportunity I have to put together the “Our History” column. You can find it in today’s Robesonian.

But, before I go any further, I must acknowledge the Robeson County Public Library and the staff, who have been very helpful both in providing the Genealogical Room and the knowledge of how to find historical documents there.

Every couple of weeks I visit the library to use the microfilm machine to view past editions of the Robesonian. The library has full microfilm editions of the paper dating back to the early 1900s.

As Robeson County residents, we are blessed to have such a resource that provides a glimpse back in time.

David Kennard

We also have quite a few bound editions of the Robesonian here at the office, although they are not cataloged, or even sorted; rather, our bound editions are in a state of disarray and trying to find anything — even if I know the date I am looking for — is exhausting.

Additionally floodwaters a few years back soaked a good number of the editions, wiping out for good Robesonians from about 2010 to the present.

That’s one reason that the column in today’s Robesonian skips past the “10 Years Ago” time frame.

Other valuable resources are the daily essays published by the North Carolina Department of Natural and Cultural Resources, which posts “This Day in North Carolina History.” These short essays provide a wonderful look back at significant events from North Carolina days gone by.

The catch to this resource however, is that I almost always must check in daily to gather a complete view of our state’s history. If I miss a day, it takes some digging to find out what I missed. That’s why when you read my “Our History” compilation it says “This Week…”

For instance, If I miss the date that the specially-designed Fresnel lens of the Cape Hatteras Lighthouse was lit to mark Diamond Shoals, I may not get to see that information for another year. (Of course the answer is it was lit on Dec. 16, 1870 — but only amateur history buffs like me would know that — or at least know where to find that information.)

Another fun note about the Cape Hatteras Lighthouse: The lighthouse lit in 1870 is counted as the second of three at Cape Hatteras, according to the Cultural Resources Department. Even more trivial info: Today there are seven standing lighthouses — Currituck, Bodie Island, Cape Hatteras, Ocracoke, Cape Lookout, Oak Island and Old Baldy (Bald Head Island).

Finally, my other source of information comes from the “Today In History” column made available to Associated Press members. That source documents key events in U.S. and World history, but like the NC Cultural Resources Department, the AP provides only a glimpse of history, one week at a time. And, if I miss the four- or five-day window to collect the data, it’s gone again until next year.

Missing moments in time is frustrating, especially to journalists who like to provide context to news events here in Robeson County and the rest of the region.

Robesonian readers know that periodically we’ll include short glimpses of history in stories about COVID-19, or the jobless rate, or the price of gasoline, or almost every story on the sports page.

History provides context to the events that take place throughout the year.

Here in another couple of weeks you’re going to start seeing our various “Year-end” reports that recap significant events and issues that we’ve published in The Robesonian during 2022. Each of these annual news reports will include short briefs listed in chronological order as they were reported.

And, while I’m still relatively new to the area, these recaps help me understand what’s important to Robeson County residents. Stay with us as 2022 ends and we begin another year of making history.

David Kennard is the executive editor of The Robesonian. Contact him at dkennard@robesonian.com.

OUR HISTORY: 100 years ago, school board selects site for Indian Normal school

Maggie Devane, of St. Pauls, celebrates her 109th birthday in this picture from Nov. 17, 2016. Devane and her sister Inez Womack, who died away nearly two weeks earlier at the age of 106, were among the oldest residents to live in Robeson County. Maggie Devane died on Sept. 12, 2017 at age 111. ROBESONIAN FILE PHOTO

THIS WEEK IN ROBESON COUNTY HISTORY

100 Years Ago: LUMBERTON — Sites Selected for 3 School Buildings; Location of Long Branch, Thomas Consolidated and Pembroke Indian School Buildings Determined by County Board of Education. The county board of education Friday selected a site about 400 yards north of the Indian Normal school building, on the Pembroake-Red Springs road, for the new Indian grammar school building to be erected at an early date. Bonds have been voted for erecting the building, which will cost around $15,000. Source: Dec. 11, 1922, Robesonian.

50 Years Ago: Dean of Instruction, George Howard, has announced that twelve of the graduates of the 1972 class of the Practical Nursing Education Program al Robeson Technical Institute have passed the North Carolina State Board of Nursing examination which was given in September. By passing this examination, the graduate receives a license which allows her to practice her profession in North Carolina and various other states. Source: Dec. 15, 1972, Robesonian.

Eight Years Ago: ST. PAULS — Maggie Devane wakes up every day around 8 a.m., cooks breakfast and does little, odd jobs around the house if she’s up to it. Not bad for a woman who just turned 109. “I feel like I’ve always felt good,” said Devane, who celebrated her 109th birthday on Nov. 17. “I move a little slower but that’s the only difference.” Source: Dec. 14, 2014, Robesonian. Born in 1905 in nearby Rex, the St. Pauls resident is the daughter of a slave who was also a Civil War veteran, has lived for 91 years at her current home on Martin Luther King Street, and has the memories to match her age — having lived through the Great Depression, both World Wars, the Civil Rights movement, and 19 U.S. presidents, including seeing a black, like her, elected to the White House. EDITOR’S NOTE: Mrs. Devane died at age 111, on Sept. 12, 2017.

One Year Ago: LUMBERTON — “I know he is smiling down from heaven to see this beautiful facility and the revitalization.” Those were the words used Wednesday at the grand opening of the Robeson County Administration Center by Lyl MacLean Clinard, referring to her father, the late Hector MacLean. Source: Dec. 11, 2021 Robesonian.

Source: The Robesonian archives

THIS WEEK IN NORTH CAROLINA HISTORY

MECKLENBURG COUNTY — On Dec. 8, 1840, Sydenham Benoni Alexander, Confederate officer, legislator and agriculturalist, was born in Mecklenburg County. Though Alexander graduated from the University of North Carolina in 1860, the Civil War intervened before he could begin his professional life. He enlisted in the First North Carolina Volunteers in April 1861, saw action and was promoted through the ranks to captain before he joined the staff of General Robert Hoke as an inspector-general.

After the war, Alexander became a successful farmer. He was appointed the master of the Grange in North Carolina in 1877. Two years later he was elected as a Democrat to the state Senate, where he would go on to serve several terms.

As his involvement in state politics deepened, Alexander was fundamental in the formation of the college that would become North Carolina State University. He was appointed commissioner of the state board of agriculture, as well as president of the North Carolina State Fair and the North Carolina Railroad. That same year he became first president of the North Carolina Farmers’ Alliance.

Alexander was elected to the U.S. House of Representatives for two successive terms. In 1901, he returned to the North Carolina Senate where he aided in the appropriation of $200,000 for public schools. 

Source: North Carolina Department of Natural and Cultural Resources.

THIS WEEK IN U.S. AND WORLD HISTORY

KITTY HAWK — On Dec. 17, 1903, Wilbur and Orville Wright of Dayton, Ohio, conducted the first successful manned powered-airplane flights near Kitty Hawk, using their experimental craft, the Wright Flyer. Source: Associated Press.

WASHINTON, D.C. — On Dec. 18, 2019, the U.S. House impeached President Donald Trump on two charges, sending his case to the Senate for trial; the articles of impeachment accused him of abusing the power of the presidency to investigate rival Joe Biden ahead of the 2020 election and then obstructing Congress’ investigation. (It was the first of two Trump impeachment trials that would end in acquittal by the Senate.)

WASHINTON, D.C. — On Dec. 19, 1998, President Bill Clinton was impeached by the Republican-controlled House for perjury and obstruction of justice. (Clinton was subsequently acquitted by the Senate.) 

Source: The Associated Press

The History Column is compiled by Executive Editor David Kennard. Contact him by email at dkennard@robesonian.com.

EDITOR'S NOTES: Coronavirus a gut punch to community

Before I get into things, I need to eat a little crow here. Last week I went home a little early from work with a sore throat and what I thought was the beginnings of a typical cold. I mean we are in the middle of cold and flu season here in Robeson County. Through the weekend, the sore throat persisted, then came a crippling cough that began feeling like I’d gone a few rounds with my father’s favorite boxer, Joe “Smokin’ Joe” Frazier. Growing up, I loved spending time with my dad on the living room couch watching boxing, football and anything that came on after Jim McKay’s famous announcement, “Spanning the globe to bring you the constant variety of sports… the thrill of victory… and the agony o defeat.” That poor skier wiping out during a jump attempt in 1970 became one of the sporting world’s most famous athletes — although most didn’t even know his name. My father did. Vinko Bogataj was attempting a jump on the Heini Klopfer Hill in Oberstdorf, “West” Germany when he lost his balance and spun out of control to become one of the sporting world’ most notable images. Legend has it that Bogataj had no idea that his crash had cast him into the world spotlight until he was invited to a Wild World of Sports anniversary even 20 years later. According to one news report, “He received the loudest ovation of any athlete introduced at the gala, and attendees such as Muhammad Ali asked him for his autograph.” I never saw Muhammad Ali fight, but I did get the opportunity to watch Smokin’ Joe throw a few exhibition punches once at a fundraiser a few years back. Even then, those punches looked like they hurt, and I am sure whoever that poor sap was who was letting Frazier throw punches at him felt a little like I did after a couple of days of coughing. “Well, you have COVID-19,” my doctor said. I kinda figured that. But now, several days later on a course of prescription drugs and a few days of bed rest, I feel like going back to work. Of course I won’t until I get the all clear. Which brings me back to the “eating crow” statement. You see, I got all my vaccinations and boosters. I wore masks, washed my hands, gargled with bleach. The whole gamut of CDC recommendations. On top of that, I spent a significant amount of ink on The Robesonian Opinion Page during the past year scolding people in the Thumbs Down column that I compile each week. I’ll stand by my statement that we as a community can do more to beat back this coronavirus, as well as the host of other viruses besieging us. But I do have some empathy now for those who have silently suffered — many have suffered far, far worse than me during this pandemic. According to Bill Smith with the Robeson County Health Department, here in Robeson County we’ve seen 544 positive cases during the past three weeks, bringing the total of positive cases since March 2020 to 51,907. Of those cases, 578 were fatal. And, during the previous few weeks, we saw another death blamed on COVID-19. I am extremely grateful for the health care officials here in Robeson County who have helped me and my family through this uncertain time. I cannot even imagine the agony felt by those who have lost friends and family members to this coronavirus. I’ll make another plea to those who have not taken this seriously. Please do what you can to stop the spread of this still, very real threat. Vaccinations do work. If you feel ill, wear a mask, take a step back from a crowd, clean and disinfect yourself and your immediate environment. We are getting through this and we will get back to normal at some point. David Kennard is executive editor of The Robesonian. Contact him at dkennard@robesonian.com.

EDITOR'S NOTES: Some stories are harder to tell than others  

Early in my journalism career, I was assigned the job of obituary editor of a large newspaper out West. In that role I was directed to “punch up” some of the more bland obituaries and give readers better insight into the dearly departed.

While on such a mission, I came upon an extra bland obituary that contained almost no detail other than the individual was the recipient of a Bronze Star while serving in World War II.

I had to know more about Mr. Joy Ayres.

My queries often took me to local cemeteries to glean any information that may provide details on headstones. Often you can find additional names, dates, sometimes poetry, so I drove out to a small but meticulously groomed ceremony and began wandering among the “Ayres family gravesites.

Across the cemetery from Mr. Ayres grandparent’s marker, two small American flags had been pushed into the dirt next to a headstone. I had found Mr. Ayres.

A treble clef and a rose were carved into the granite next to his name and the date of his death — Independence Day, 2008.

Many people attending the Aug. 2 funeral service expected little more than a simple ceremony for a simple man who moved away from home to serve in World War II.

But after “Taps” was played and the flag that draped the casket was given to Waldtraut “Val” Ayres, his wife of 48 years, word began to spread about the man who served his country in three wars.

Joy, known by most people as a gentle man who loved to grow roses and listen to fine music, was born in a small Idaho town in 1914. He retired from service in 1970 at the age 56, serving for 24 years with the Army.

He worked as a medic and later in the finance corps.

Among the ribbons he wore on his uniform was a red ribbon with a single blue stripe, signifying he was decorated by the Army with a Bronze Star for heroic or meritorious action in conflict.

An oak leaf cluster he wore with his medal showed that it was the second time during his service in World War II, the Korean War and Vietnam that he had been decorated with the honor.

An Army Commendation Medal, again with an oak leaf cluster, shows his sustained acts of heroism or meritorious service. Val told me that besides his medals and some handwritten journals, she had only limited information about his service.

“He never talked about it,” Val said.

The two met and married soon after the end of the Korean War while Joy was stationed in Berlin.

Another assignment took the couple back to America for a short time, but war soon took him to the other side of the world again.

Joy served in Vietnam during the Tet Offensive in 1968 when the North Vietnamese army made a massive surge in an attempt to crush the South Vietnamese army and its allies.

A simple journal entry in his personal papers reads, “3 Jan. ‘68 “The Year of TET” - 4 Feb. ‘69, U.S. Army, Pacific (Vietnam).”

More medals — including the Vietnam Gallantry Cross given by South Vietnam to soldiers honoring deeds of valor in battle — recognize his service there.

Joy came home from war for the last time in January 1970 and went to work for a library district in Olympia, Wash.

His focus turned to Val, who sang opera as a young woman before the war destroyed Berlin.

“He loved good music. And we attended the opera often,” said Val. She chuckled and then said, “I wouldn’t have married him if he didn’t.”

Val also said Joy loved to play the piano. “It was his second hobby,” she said.

The two started growing roses and became well known for their work with the Centennial Rose Garden in downtown Olympia, Washington.

Joy and his wife raised the money for the garden, which today contains a collection of about 100 varieties of roses.

Although his 93 years took him around the world many times, Joy was returned home to be buried among the dozens of family members representing six generations of Ayres in a tiny Idaho cemetery.

David Kennard is the interim editor of The Bladen Journal and executive editor of The Robesonian in Robeson County. Contact him by email at dkennard@robesonian.com. 

EDITOR'S NOTES: On election, make voting a family affair 

Mothers teach us lots of things. Mine taught me to vote.

From my earliest memories, I recall my mother serving as an election judge. The voting precinct for my neighborhood was my elementary school. So, on every Election Day, I could count on seeing my mother sitting behind a desk outside the principal’s office helping people cast their vote.

Election Day will be forever tied to memories of my mother and the lessons of civic responsibility that she taught me.

With a General Election upon us, I can hear my mother again reminding me to get out and vote.

Likewise, my father was the example that taught me the sacred nature of voting. Dad took a keen interest in elections and made sure I was a part of the voting process, often taking me with him as he marked his ballot.

His process of preparing for an election was almost ritualistic. He read newspapers, listened to the debates on the radio and television.

Dad almost always voted Republican, but he told me that I should understand the issues before I cast my vote for either party.

By the time I turned 18, voting had become almost second nature. It was a proud moment for both my parents to see me walk into the voting booth and pull that lever for the first time.

As Nov. 8 approaches those who wish to vote have many options to participate in the midterm election.

If we survive the rhetoric war, we may get through this highly contested midterm race.

Perhaps the dirtiest mudslinging is taking part in the race for a US Senate seat in North Carolina.

Cheri Beasley and Ted Budd have been going at it for weeks, each with campaign ads targeting the failures of their respective opponents.

Just once, I’d love to hear something like, “My opponent has served our state honorably, but I’m running because I have fresh ideas that will benefit North Carolina.”

A story in Thursday’s Charlotte Observer reported that the two have agreed to a debate.

“Beasley ‘is prepared and ready to meet Congressman Budd on his preferred debate stage — because she believes that every North Carolinian deserves to see the clear choice before them this Fall,’” said Travis Brimm, Beasley’s campaign manager.

Here at the paper, we’ll be watching the elections closely and we’ll be reporting throughout the day. Coverage, of course, will include statewide data as it comes in from the state.

Here are some key dates regarding the Nov. 8 election.

Sept. 9: The date by which the Robeson County boards of elections must make available absentee ballots. Note: You can vote absentee now if you are registered.

Oct. 14: Civilian voter registration deadline.This is the second most important day in the upcoming election. If you don’t register, you cannot vote. However if you miss the Oct. 14 deadline, you can still register when the one-stop early voting is available.

Oct. 20: One-stop, in-person early voting period begins. At this time you can still register if you have the required documents.

If you are like me, and are a relative newcomer to the state, time is running out

Nov. 1: Deadline for civilians to submit an absentee ballot request form.

Nov. 5: One-stop, in-person early voting period ends at 3 p.m.

Nov. 8: Election Day and civilian absentee ballot return deadline.

A note from the editor: When Election Day eventually arrives, it’s important to understand who you’re voting for before you go to vote. (Do you see how I am channeling my father there?)

Mother would say the same thing.

Mom’s gone now and my old elementary school where she helped so many people fulfill their civic responsibility is now a Jewish community center. But last I checked, the voting booths still appear there every Election Day.

Please register and vote.

David Kennard is the executive editor of the Robesonian. Contact him by email at dkennard@robesonian.com.

David Kennard, far left, stands with a team of Student Conservation Association volunteers in 1981 in Great Smoky Mountain National Park.

EDITOR'S NOTES: Greetings from the Appalachians 

By strict definition, I am a tree-hugger, that is to say I have in the past hugged a tree … just before cutting it down.

I should qualify that.

If you are reading this column in today’s Robesonian, there is a good chance I’m somewhere in the backwoods of the Appalachian mountains — yes, by choice.

Years ago, the summer of 1981 to be precise, I had a high school counselor convince me to volunteer with the Student Conservation Association, a nationwide group of young people involved in conservation work throughout America’s public lands.

Each summer, small teams of young people, led by an adult “trail boss” head into the wilds to cut trails, improve damage from overuse, and generally create and maintain places for the public to enjoy.

If you’ve ever hiked along a nice section of backcountry trail, there’s a good chance a group of young people was there before you. If you’ve ever leapt over a muddy bog only to slip and fall, covering yourself in muck, there’s a good chance that a volunteer with the Student Conservation Association will at some point come along and put some riprap (Definition: A permanent layer of large, angular stone, cobbles or boulders) down to keep the next person from suffering your fate.

In 1981, as a recent high school graduate, I packed my waffle stompers and raincoat, boarded a plane and landed in Knoxville, Tennessee ready to meet my team of volunteers who had made similar trips from high schools across the country.

Together, we shared laughs, scratched mosquito bites, dodged timber rattlesnakes (Yes, the Great Smoky Mountains has rattlesnakes) and chased away raccoons and black bears.

We also managed to improve about five miles of the Deep Creek Trail in the Great Smoky Mountain National Park.

Part of those improvements included cutting down trees — hugging them first to thank them for their sacrifice — peeling off their bark and cutting them into eight-foot sections for use as water bars along the heavily rutted trail. The idea was to replace what rainstorms had turned into slippery, muddy streams, with usable foot paths for hikers heading into the backcountry.

It’s been 41 years since I’ve set foot on that section of the Appellations, and I’m anxious to see if any of the work I did as a 17-year-old kid still remains. I’m especially anxious to see if the crude bridge we constructed over a small creek still exists.

My hope is to see a much bigger bridge built by SCA-volunteers where a log bridge built by Seth, Ellie, Regina, Julie and I once stood.

KENNARD: Harvest time signals change in the seasons  

I was out in the country earlier this week enjoying the “cooler” weather, driving with my windows down and the radio turned up when I found myself in the middle of a small dust storm — well sort of.

A corn harvester was working through a section of field corn and had made a turn just as Neil Diamond and I happened along.

I realized it must be harvest season — again, sort of.

Harvest season really depends on what’s growing at any given time around here. The wheat harvest is all pretty much done by now. Soybean fields are still looking pretty green and won’t start coming in until October; cotton and peanuts, too.

Tobacco, which has a rich history in North Carolina, began its harvest in July and will last through September depending on the weather.

Speaking of tobacco, when I was compiling the “Our History” column this week I found a fun little story about the once very lucrative tobacco crop. You can find it on page 3A today.

It seems that in 1922 — that’s 100 years ago — a kid from Washington D.C., heard about North Carolina and the money being made in tobacco. He put on his walking shoes and headed south with enough money to rent three acres of farmland. A few months later, he harvested his crop and made a small fortune; at least enough that the 19-year-old farmer didn’t have to walk all the way back to D.C.

Years ago when our family of six was just a family of four and I was just a baby journalist, we rented a little white cinder block house in the middle of a corn field in central Washington. The man we rented from used the building as housing for migrant labor — which I supposed we were since we lived there less than a year until we could find a home with few bugs and dependable plumbing.

Despite what my wife called primitive living, I enjoyed the place for its simplicity, the smell of rain as it fell on the dirt roads, the sound of distant farm equipment working the fields, even mowing the grass in the small yard that was shaded from the hot summer sun by tall poplar trees.

More than once during our stay, we’d wake to the roar of aerial applicators (crop dusters) seemingly dive bombing our little home in the country.

The kids would watch as they’d circle around, then come in fast, diving under the powerlines and letting loose with the pesticide spray or fertilizer or whatever it was the corn needed.

Just inches above the field crop, those pilots flew in fast toward our little white shack, then pulled up just in time to miss the tallest branches of the poplars that stood like centuries around our home.

Over the years, I’ve wondered just what kind of lasting health effects we might have from whatever spray may have drifted over home. But now that my two youngest are fully grown and living full lives, I can only surmise that it must have been good for both us and the sweet corn.

Nowadays, on my drive in to work, I’ll occasionally get stuck behind a tractor or some other piece of farm equipment. But I’ve found it doesn’t bother me so much; it gives me time to look out over the fields and appreciate the annual change in season from an agricultural point of view.

David Kennard is the executive editor of the Robesonian. Contact him at dkennard@robesonian.com.

EDITOR'S NOTES: Odds are hurricanes headed our way  

Hurricane Matthew in the fall of 2016 was my first hurricane.

I know, worse storms have pounded the East Coast, but we had just moved to the Charleston, South Carolina, area the previous year and seemed to have missed any of the “big ones.”

Then Matthew came along.

As a journalist, I was “exempt” from any evacuation orders. That’s in quotation marks because I was only exempt depending on which law enforcement agency I happened to encounter.

I always get a kick out of watching broadcast news folks standing out in the storm as they get battered by cats-and-dog rain. That may make for great TV, but as a newsroom manager, I want my team far away from danger.

As a relative newcomer to the area — and a recent single-wide community resident — I’ve been keeping a close watch on Atlantic weather forecasts. A few times a day I pop onto the National Hurricane Center’s website just to see what may be brewing out there in the Atlantic.

So far, there have been a few tropical waves, which has nothing to do with ocean waves, but is a weather phenomenon considered to be the earliest state of tropical storms. When tropical storms develop at sea, there is a chance they could develop into a hurricane — assuming all other conditions are right.

Earlier this month, the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) acknowledged that “oceanic conditions still favor an above-normal 2022 Atlantic hurricane season,” according to NOAA’s annual mid-season update issued on Aug. 4.

NOAA forecasters are calling for 14-20 named storms, 6-10 hurricanes and 3-5 major hurricanes.

Here is another fun fact: North Carolina has been hit by more than 50 hurricanes since the mid-1800s, making it the third most hurricane-prone state in the Country. And while it’s anyone’s guess what we can expect from this season, history shows we’re likely to be a target this year as well.

“I urge everyone to remain vigilant as we enter the peak months of hurricane season,” said Secretary of Commerce Gina Raimondo. “The experts at NOAA will continue to provide the science, data and services needed to help communities become hurricane resilient and climate-ready for the remainder of hurricane season and beyond.”

While we are now 10 weeks into hurricane season without any hurricane threats, we are far from making it through the end of November unscathed.

With that in mind, and the fact that I now live in a home that may or may not float, I’d urge that we get ready, you know, just in case.

A good place to start is a list provided by the Red Cross. I’ve shared this before, and you’ll probably see this list again in one form or another here in The Robesonian.

Here is their short list:

• Build an emergency kit that will last everyone in your family at least three days.

• Talk with household members and create an evacuation plan and practice it.

• Learn about the community’s hurricane response plan.

Here are a few that I’ll add from experience.

• Know where you’re going to go when the evacuation order comes.

• Get the car tuned up and keep it full of gas and ready to go.

• Have enough cash on hand to get you wherever you need to go to find high ground and shelter.

• If you plan to stick around, fill your outdoor grill’s propane tanks now. And maybe pick up an extra tank now before they disappear.

• Put up three days worth - or more - of drinking water. We use those clear 5 gallon jugs and keep them in an out-of-the-way closet.

Stay safe this season.

David Kennard, who plans to bug out when the weather turns blustery, is the executive editor of The Robesonian. Contact him at dkennard@robesonian.com. 

EDITOR'S NOTES: Deer season is just weeks away  

When the late summer nights start to feel cool again, I know deer season is right around the corner.

If you plan to be outside on any public land, you’ll want to keep the following dates in mind.

In North Carolina, hunting season begins on Sept. 11 for bow hunters only. Muzzelloader/black powder hunters can head out on Oct. 2 and rifle season (technically called “Firearm” season) begins on Oct. 16.

Although I’m a relative newcomer to the area, I always get a little nostalgic when I start to see ads for blaze orange clothing, ammunition and other hunting gear.

I’ve got an overnight hiking trip planned into North Carolina’s backcountry in a couple of weeks, and I am sure that once I step off the blacktop, I’ll encounter a hunter or two, at least it’s a very real possibility.

Hikers and backcountry enthusiasts — some of the friendliest folks you’ll ever run into — sometimes are disturbed when they see rifle toting hunters on their beloved trails and wandering through their unspoiled forests.

Most of my hunting these days is done with a telephoto camera lens, and most of the wild food I bring home has been handed to me through the window of a Wendy’s drive-thru.

But I’ve found over the years that there’s plenty of room for everyone in the woods, whether you’re hunting with a long lens or a long gun.

When I was still in my teens living out West, my Boy Scout troop decided we would all go get hunting licenses and see if we could bring home a deer or two.

Five of us boys, including one of my best friends, Evan Jackson, his dad and our Scout leader Dennis Scott ended up in Mr. Jackson’s 1975 Chevy station headed for Craig, Colorado. After a couple of days of walking, scoping and walking, we packed up for home.

It was late in the day when we set out on the rural state highway headed for home. It wasn’t long before I heard Mr. Jackson say, “Now what’s all this?”

I looked up to see what I thought was a small fog bank ahead and a car with its flashers pulled over on the side of the road. It was cool out, so it made sense that there might be some patchy fog, but then I saw the huge deer on the side of the road and realized what had happened.

All that fog was a bunch of deer hair. That stupid buck had decided to cross the road at the exact same time as the car ahead of us was traveling along that backroad highway in the middle of nowhere.

We pulled over as well, just to make sure everything was OK. When it finally got to its feet, the deer took off down the highway, broken legs and all.

Three of us quickly found the guns from the back of the station wagon, dug out the ammo from the trailer and began jogging down the side of the road.

Mr. Scott was the first to shoot. Miss. Between the three of us we got about four shots off before the animal finally dropped.

It was a memorable trip for us young hunters, but I have to say one of the best parts of the trip was driving through the Wendy’s restaurant on the way home. And so a tradition was born.

Every year I enjoy the start of the deer season, and I have no doubt that beginning with North Carolina’s Youth Hunt on Sept. 25, many more memories and traditions will be born that are every bit as rich as mine.

David Kennard is the executive editor of The Robesonian. Contact him at dkennard@robesonian.com. 

Editor's Notes: There’s still plenty of time to visit our national forests  

By David Kennard

The Robesonian

Our country’s national forests are gems; each one with a unique personality, from the Mt. Baker-Snoqualmie National Forest that borders Canada, to Long Key State Park in the Florida Keys.

Depending on your philosophic level, you may agree or disagree that our federally protected lands need more protection from development.

I’ve been lucky enough to visit many national forests and each time, I have come away enriched.

North Carolina is home to four national forests that span our state’s vast landscape from the Appalachian Mountains on the west side of the state to the Outer Banks that stretch into the Atlantic Ocean.

As a relative newcomer to the area I’ve had the opportunity to visit the Nantahala National Forest, but only briefly as I passed through. I look forward to spending more time there on a future visit.

The Pisgah National Forest, also on the west side of the state, is one of the most visited forests in North Carolina thanks to its location near the population center of Charlotte.

Uwharrie National Forest is one of the smallest National Forests in the country, but it offers an abundance of forest wilderness and varied uses.

Croatan National Forest is what some call the gateway to the Outer Banks. It’s a coastal pine forest that includes saltwater estuaries and low lying bogs, as well as wilderness galore if you stop, listen and watch.

Most recently, I’ve enjoyed exploring our outdoor world with my youngest child — and first mate — Sam.

Sam’s middle name is Christian — which comes from my love of the book “Mutiny on the Bounty.” Around our house when I need something from my first mate, I’ll frequently bellow in my best Capt. Bligh voice, “MIS-TER CHRIS-CHUN! The garbage needs to go out.”

A while back, my Sam — who incidentally just graduated from college — began a weekend trek to ride our mountain bikes through part of the Francis Marion National Forest in South Carolina.

The Swamp Fox Passage of the Palmetto State Trail proved to be formidable. We had hoped to complete most of the 47-mile trail in a weekend, but our excursion ended miserably when we were chased away by clouds of bloodthirsty mosquitoes that were unfazed by our layers of Deet.

Years ago I took a trip with a forest ranger who worked in the Shasta-Trinity National Forest in northern California. You’ve not been on a hike until you’ve hiked (and by hike I mean jog) with a forest ranger.

Forest rangers know everything about the forests they manage. The plants, animals, trees and streams are their front yard. I learned a lot from my forest ranger friend that day, including that one of the original purposes of the U.S. Forest Service was to manage our forests to maintain an inventory of trees for lumber.

Sam, er, Mr. Christian and I saw first hand how some of the management is carried out as we inched our way through Francis Marion’s flatland forest.

Large sections of the forest had been purposely cleared and burned to weed out invasive plants and dead trees that prohibit healthy tree growth.

I’m not too concerned that we may never complete the last few miles of our original 47-mile trek, especially when there are so many more trails to wander in the wonderful national forests we have nearby.

David Kennard is the executive editor of The Robesonian. Contact him at dkennard@robesonian.com.

Editor's Notes: Robesonian makes good companion for summer swingout  

I was looking through some back editions of the paper this week and stumbled across a fun little feature.

The series of articles featured local folks holding up an edition of the paper at exotic locations all around the world.

It was fun to see the community paper in places like Victoria Falls in Zimbabwe, Africa; or spread out across the Great Wall of China. One picture showed a woman holding up local news in front of the Leaning Tower of Pisa. Another reader carried her edition to the wilds of Asheville, North Carolina.

I got a kick out of that.

Here at the Robesonian we’re all about local people and local news, so if you’re planning on taking a trip anywhere in the next little while, throw your Robesonian in your bag and snap a picture while you’re fuming over your canceled flight or taking out a loan for your next gas fillup. You can send me your picture at dkennard@robesonian.com. You can also go to https://www.robesonian.com/community-photo-gallery#/. I’ll find a place for you in the next edition of our Community Photos feature.

Speaking of vacations, it’s about time to get out of town before things start to cool down. I’ve been lucky enough to explore some fun places around our great country so here is my short list of recommended stops that you can drive to this spring or summer if you have a day or a week.

Professor Hacker’s Lost Treasure Golf. Drive time: 1.5 hours. 843-272-5467. We loved this place. After gorging yourself on any of the 100 or so seafood buffets in Myrtle Beach, head on over to Professor Hackers for a fun train ride to the top of a small mountain — you can see the beach from there. Work your way down the path of miniature golf holes that take you over streams, around waterfalls and through scary mining caverns.

Jungle Jim’s - River Safari Water Park. Drive time: 7.5 hours. 302-227-8444. Go for the golf, stay for the water park. This is a great destination for anyone afraid of swimming in the Atlantic Ocean at nearby Rehoboth Beach. Your journey will take you through the congested metropolis of Washington, D.C. Be alert for gangs of protest marchers and discarded political placards.

Boondocks Grill, Draft House and Miniature Golf. Drivetime: 15.5 hours. 305-872-4094. This is one I’ve not actually been to, however I have visited other Boondocks locations, so I can’t imagine it’s much different — I mean other than you are in Key West, Florida. And since you are in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by convertible sports cars and marinas, you might as well play a round or two on the really miniature, miniature golf course. (It’s a small course.)

Dinosaur Adventure Golf. Drive time: 12, 15 minutes hours. 1-905-358-3676. Bring your passport if you want to get home. This excellent course is located on the banks of the Niagara River in Canada. A nearby waterfall is a serious distraction and you may need a rain poncho if the wind is blowing the mist your direction.

Cody City Park Miniature Golf Course. Drive time: 32 hours. 307-587-3685. This is actually a pretty crappy little golf course, so you’re better off skipping this tourist attraction and taking a short drive into Yellowstone National Park. You are guaranteed to see some Rocky Mountain bison — the kids and I did when we were there — and perhaps a moose if you are quiet. Old Faithful, which isn’t all that faithful anymore erupts about every hour or so depending on how big the last eruption was.

Zion Ponderosa Mini Golf Course. Drive time: 33 hours.800-293-5444. This course is built on the slope of a Ponderosa Pine populated hillside in southern Utah. If you plan to stay the night, book ahead to bed down in one of the many log cabins, which range in size from covered wagon to multi-room western ranch house. We stayed in one of the Cowboy cabins and loved it. It was just a short drive to nearby Zion National Park, one of the most popular parks in the country - again, call ahead, rock slides have been known to close highways in and out of Zion NP. You are guaranteed to see herds of deer, bighorn sheep and flocks of smelly hippies hitchhiking across the West — go ahead, pick them up, they don’t bite and imagine the great photo memories.

If you’re not a miniature golf fan, there are other fun things to do in or around most of these great destinations.

And remember, if you make it to these or other fun places, bring along your Robesonian.

Editor's Notes: Independence Day significant in Robeson County 

 I knew something wasn’t right a few years ago on the Fourth of July when my daughter quietly walked into the living room and declared, “Um, Dad, there’s been an incident.” 

She and her college-aged friends were out on the street in front of the house celebrating with fireworks. I know this because the TV show I was trying to watch was interrupted every few seconds by artillery fire that she and everyone else in the neighborhood were blasting well into the night. 

No blood was drawn, but the neighbor’s cedar fence had a sulfur burn, as did the neighbor’s garage door across the street, as did the neighbor’s rose bushes around the corner. In fact the errant aerial sent blasts everywhere except into the air. 

Everyone was a little shook up, but otherwise OK. 

My garden hose put a quick end to the fireworks for the night. Friends went home and my daughter reluctantly went to each neighbor to apologize for “the incident.” 

The Fourth of July has been a day to celebrate since the earliest days of our nation, but like many of our holidays, the reason we celebrate has been diluted amongst the many celebrations. 

Here in southeast North Carolina, we have a connection to the Revolutionary War and the cause of independence that many of our fellow Americans enjoy only by proxy. 

As one of the 13 original colonies, North Carolina was the first to vote for independence from Great Britain during the Continental Congress. 

As a relative newcomer to North Carolina, I’ve come to understand the significant role our state played in the formation of our nation. 

In that regard, one of the things I enjoy here in Robeson County is the collection of the weekly history features that you enjoy in the weekend edition. The ongoing series takes a look at historical sites in the greater Robeson County area, a large number of which reference events centered on the Revolutionary War. 

Places like McPhaul’s Mill, which was a rendezvous point for local Tories. During the American Revolution, McPhaul’s (McFall’s) Mill served as a Tory stronghold. Neill McPhaul was one of the leading Loyalists in the county, and often operated under the command of David Fanning. In July 1781, Fanning encamped at the mill with the prisoners taken in the attack on Chatham Courthouse, and in late September he bivouacked there with individuals captured in the attack on Hillsborough. 

Closer to Lumbertain you can find a stone monument that honors those who were a part of establishing the town back in the late 1700s, a time when the country of America had yet to establish its full identity. 

That monument, which stands on North Water Street just north of West Fifth Street, reads in part “On August 14, 1787, John Willis deeded to the Lumberton Lottery Managers 170 acres of land, being well known as Red Bluff where the courts are held.” 

A month later on Sept. 17, 1787, delegates signed a new document known as the Constitution of the United States of America. 

The founding of Lumberton and the United States share the same history in many regards. 

In fact, it’s my feeling that settlers to Robeson County came to this area to find freedom, prosperity and opportunity. And despite the blighted history of slavery in the new country, it’s more significant now than ever that we should honor the vision and sacrifices of our city’s earliest forefathers. To them, celebrating the cause of freedom was much more “than a fireworks incident.” 

Enjoy a safe Fourth of July holiday. 

Editor's Notes: If disaster strikes keep Pop Tarts in your go bag

As a habit, I regularly check in with the National Weather Service and the National Hurricane Center to see what’s on the horizon.

For instance, on Friday, the National Hurricane Center, together with the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, were tracking a weather event which may be important for the North Atlantic, Caribbean Sea and the Gulf of Mexico.

“A tropical wave located over the eastern tropical Atlantic continues to produce a large area of disorganized showers and thunderstorms,” forecasters reported. “Environmental conditions appear conducive for development of this system over the next few days, and a tropical depression could form during the early to middle part of next week while it moves westward at around 15 mph over the tropical Atlantic and approaches the Windward Islands.”

So far it seems unlikely that this event will have any impact on North Carolina. However, we’ve seen plenty similar storms become very dangerous - even life threatening.

Anytime something like this comes up, I start mentally preparing for a possible disaster.

Like the rest of Lumberton and Robeson County residents, I’ll continue watching the forecast until it becomes possible for the storm to cross our path. When that happens I make sure the car has a full tank of gas, make sure that we have several days’ worth of water stored and ensure that our pantry has an ample supply of Dinty Moore Stew and ramen noodles.

While I’m still a relative newcomer here, I’ve been through a few of hurricanes, at least enough to make sure my provisions here at the office are well stocked, too. Don’t tell my wife — or my doctor, but my provisions at the office include a box of Girl Scout Cookies, a box of strawberry Pop Tarts and a six pack of Diet Cherry Pepsi.

I’ve carefully prepared this list based on the number of natural disasters that I’ve lived through. While they’ve all been scary, the family and I have — in most cases — prepared for the worst.

As a child growing up in Colorado, I had similar feelings when a big snow storm would blow through – because it meant no school and days filled with sledding.

In 1982, when I was still a teen, Denver got walloped by a blizzard that froze the city solid for more than a week. Find pictures here: https://dpo.st/3A1CFGR.

I was in high school in 1980, when another disaster struck the country. Up in the Northwest, Mount St. Helens blew its top and sent ash to several states to the east. We saw a little ash fall where we lived out West, but otherwise it had little effect. My wife grew up in the Puget Sound area and remembers the disastrous impact of Mount St. Helens had to her and communities around there.

Even, 10 years after than, when I began working for a newspaper in central Washington, I remember cleaning ash out of photo and printing equipment from time to time.

As disasters go, though, I suppose the most frightening experience we had as a family was several tornadoes that blew through the area we lived in near Dayton, Ohio.

The first time it happened, my wife called me at work one day and said, “The tornado sirens are going off, what should we do.”

I said, “Take the kids and go to the basement.”

She did, the children actually had a great time making beds on the floor of our unfinished basement.

The storm passed and everyone was OK.

Several years later, another big storm known as a derecho blew through Ohio knocking down trees and power lines. We suffered more than a week during a very hot July with no power – and since we were on well water, that meant no running water.

My children still give me a hard time for running a hose down the hill so we could steal water from the chicken house, where I had built a rainwater collection system. Find a short video on that event: http://bit.ly/2c80bEt.

Another “disaster” struck when we lived in Boise, Idaho. I was working as an early morning editor and was the first into the office every morning. One day as I sat down in front of my computer to begin uploading stories, I felt a little dizzy. I brushed it off as being tired, but moments later I got a call by my environmental reporter.

“Dave,” he said in an almost panicked voice. “I think we just had an earthquake.” Indeed we did. It was small. A few people reported cracked foundations and broken dishes.

Through all these rather minor disasters, I’ve come to appreciate the importance of being prepared and remaining calm.

As I check the weather forecast every day, I’ll be looking for the big one. And in the meantime, I’ll keep my provisions of Pop Tarts and Diet Pepsi well stocked.