Do you think the recent polar vortexes have made things unusually cold in eastern North Carolina? It’s understandable to feel the chill when, in just the past week, even Jack's Creek (historically known as Windmill Creek) has ice forming on its surface. Yet, this current cold snap pales in comparison to the harsh reality experienced during the winter of 1917-1918, when the region faced ten grueling days of sub-freezing temperatures.
As the New Year approached in late December 1917, the river and sound region of North Carolina was truly "in the icebox." Albemarle and Pamlico sounds were completely frozen over, leaving lighthouse keepers stranded in their screw-pile lighthouses for weeks on end without fresh supplies or food. This isolation created immense hardship for commercial fishermen as well, who found themselves trapped by ice, unable to navigate their boats without the modern weather updates we often rely on today.
During the initial 48 hours of the cold spell, temperatures in Washington didn’t exceed 20 degrees Fahrenheit, and the low fell to a staggering 2 degrees above zero. A headline in the Washington Daily News on December 31, 1917, captured a brief moment of joy with, “Skating Today on the Pamlico River.” It’s heartwarming to think that, despite the bitter cold, some adventurous souls ventured out to test their ice skating skills on two inches of thin ice, even sharing skates amid a community longing for warmth and connection.
However, the situation soon became dire. By January 3, the mercury plummeted to one degree below zero, causing water pipes and wells in nearly every home to freeze, along with car radiators. The ice thickened to eight inches on the Tar and Pamlico rivers and Pamlico Sound, creating a pathway that many discovered they could walk upon. Yet this same ice brought with it isolation, as boat travel became impossible, and freight boats that delivered essential goods to the Outer Banks were unable to operate for more than three weeks, leaving many vulnerable and without supplies.
The region wasn’t only grappling with biting cold; it was also met with heavy snowstorms that brought train and vehicle travel to a standstill. It’s disheartening to think of the townsfolk facing shortages of fuel, food, and water. The Washington Daily News shared the struggles of the community, reporting, "'light bread' has been out for the past few days," highlighting the worry over limited ingredients with a sense of hope that more supplies would arrive soon. The headline proclaiming, "No Oysters Are to Be Had in the City," reminded us just how interdependent we are, especially concerning food in our local diets.
Local officials and the Associated Charities worked tirelessly to provide heat and shelter to those in need, and the town jail and A.M.E. Zion Church became refuges for many, with big fires burning to offer warmth and comfort during those challenging days.
On January 7, a shift in weather brought a sigh of relief, as the paper announced, "Thermometer Takes Big Jump." As temperatures rose to 45 degrees and the rain fell, the ice began to melt, slowly bringing back a sense of normalcy. The thaw allowed for the resumption of commerce, making it possible for food and fuel supplies to be replenished once again, restoring a small sense of peace.
So, the next time the Weather Channel discusses another polar vortex, let’s take a moment to remember the courage, resilience, and unwavering spirit of those who braved the "Big Chill” in eastern North Carolina. Their experiences remind us of our shared humanity and the strength we find in community, especially during difficult times.
Pea Island Crew, Richard Etheridge on the left.
As a boy, on travels with my father down the Hatteras Island highway today known as NC Highway 12, we would pass the abandoned Coast Guard life-saving station at Pea Island, on the northern tip of Hatteras. The Coast Guard is the successor of the U.S. Life-Saving Service. Being a Coast Guardsman, Dad would note that an all African-American unit crewed the station and how unique that was in the service. The facility is no longer present on the beach as time and rising sea levels have forced the structure's relocation.
Pea Island Becomes a Segregated Station
The story of how the station became the only racially segregated unit in the Coast Guard begins with one man, Richard Etheridge. Born into slavery on January 16, 1842, Etheridge was raised on Roanoke Island. By 1862, the occupying Union Army on the island had freed the enslaved inhabitants. The Federal forces began recruiting from the African-American residents. Hence Etheridge decided to enlist in the Second North Carolina Colored Volunteers and was appointed as a sergeant in Company F, serving in Virginia and Maryland, eventually mustering out in Texas. After the Civil War's end, Etheridge returned to Roanoke Island, afterward working as a "surfman" in the newly formed Life-Saving Service. He served on several integrated or "checkerboard" crews, first at Oregon Inlet in 1875, then Bodie Island in 1879. Tragically in November of that same year, the mixed-race unit of nearby Pea Island Station mishandled a rescue effort with a significant number of casualties among the shipwrecked crew. The Revenue Cutter Service investigated the situation and reassigned the keeper to another post at a different station. Because of his military leadership experience and superior boatmanship, Richard Etheridge was appointed as keeper of the station. The officer who advised his appointment, First Lieutenant Charles F. Shoemaker, stated that Etheridge was "one of the best surfmen on this part of the coast of North Carolina." After Etheridge was appointed, the white surfmen were transferred to other stations. To fill the positions, Etheridge was directed to recruit local African-American men. Keeper Etheridge immediately developed stringent drills that enabled his team to excel in all life-saving tasks. Pea Island Station thus earned the reputation of "one of the tautest on the Carolina Coast."
155 years ago, at around 10 o’clock on the morning of April 30, 1864, one of the most devastating events in the history of Washington, N. C. occurred. Two weeks later, much of the town lay in ruin.
The time was spring of 1864. Union forces had occupied Washington for over two years. During that period, they were successful in holding off two attempts by Confederates to retake the town. Washington at the time was very different from bustling Washington prior to the war. It had established itself as a major sea and river port serving as the hub for the exchange of crops grown on the farms and plantations lining the Tar River and the goods manufactured in the Northeast U.S. as well as the sugar and molasses produced on the islands in the Caribbean. But after two years of occupation, commerce was suffering and many of the white population had fled town. The 1860 census showed the number of occupants in Washington to be around 1,600 with roughly 45% listed as white, 45% listed as slaves, and 10% listed as free men of color. But by 1864, the number of white occupants had dwindled to less than 500. However, as a result of a large number of Union troops and the influx of former slaves seeking refuge, the overall population had swelled.
During the Antebellum Period, the port of Washington, N.C. was a major shipbuilding center for North Carolina. But did you know that one of Washington’s most successful shipbuilders was a “freedman,” a former slave who had been granted his liberty by his former owner and rose to be one of Washington’s most successful businessmen? His name was Hull Anderson. Anderson’s story is one of a thriving entrepreneur but ends in the eventual abandonment of his home and business in Washington, N.C. for life in a strange country. But why would he desert Washington and take his chances in a foreign land?
Read more: Hull Anderson: Free Black Shipbuilder of Washington
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