Yes, in the early 1900s, when Margery ONeal, a native of the island -- who would become my own sweet Granny -- was 12-years-old, she experienced one really dark day, yes, a day when her dad, William (Billy) and his younger brother, Ivey, never returned from a fishing trip. They were in their early thirties.
Though it was a clear starry night when they left the harbor, the next morning a freak storm came up, and their boat capsized. As a result, they were drowned beneath the fishing boat, sadly entangled in the nets. Four men were onboard and three died. Two were Billy and Ivey.
Eliza, my great-grandmother, was left with my Granny, Margery, age 12 and also three younger children -- Dicie, Ivey and Isabella. Eliza went to work immediately raising her children alone with my Granny Margery, the oldest, having to grow up quickly in order to oversee the children while her mother made ends meet as a cook and cleaning lady at the Pamlico Inn.
Something about reading the story written in an official local newspaper this morning brought tender tears to my eyes. I was so moved that I had to get up from the table and sit on the screened-in porch to catch my breath. My heart was really hurting as I considered the hardships my own family must've faced on this barrier island nearly a century ago.
After a while, the Lord gave me a verse that comforted my mind and consoled my heart concerning my Granny and her three young siblings who were left fatherless all those years ago.
Here are a few images to go with the story:
The island graves of my Great-Grandfather, William (Billy) ONeal, my own dad's namesake and Ivey ONeal, Williams beloved younger brother.
My Granny Margery with my own son, Grayson, in late 1980s.
Our rented island cottage for the week and the front porch where I shed tender tears thinking about my loved ones. Island roots go deep.
An artist's rendering of Silver Lake Harbor
Grateful
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