Back Home. Down Home. Down East.

Like the loggerhead turtles, like the spot runs in the fall, like many of my longest known friends and family before me, I am back home, down home, down east.  It has been just over three decades since this Coastal North Carolina boy got to wake up with the ocean waves lapping at his ear right over the sand dunes from a place I could call my home. Now I have those waves again just a few steps from my front door.  Having spent many years chasing my dreams and fortunes in places like Clinton, Fayetteville, Lumberton, Smithfield, and Raleigh I get to spend much of my last years of life on the coast of North Carolina.  It is as it should be. 

What is it that binds us to this place, this place called Eastern North Carolina and especially Coastal North Carolina.  Those of us born and raised in the counties adjacent to and close by the Atlantic Ocean in this state find ourselves drawn towards this area all our lives.  Is it the ocean? Is it the old friends? Is it the memories? What ever it is, it is a feeling in all of us from Coastal North Carolina that we find Sweet Southern Comfort when we return there.  It is a life long love we can never fully explain. 

 

Oh, do not get me wrong I love all the places I have called home over the last three plus decades. In towns along Interstate 95 is where I have spent most of my working years like my fathers and grandfathers before me who spent their lives along then paths of commerce such as Clear Run, Calypso, and Turkey.  Even now I continue to take in the enjoyment of visiting with friends, dining at favorite restaurants, and reminiscing in these places where I once called home.  

But in the end back home is where I spent much of my early life and as my life begins it's likely last couple of decades I find my myself blessed by God to return to having a home down east.  Remembering going fishing at The Scotch Bonnet pier with my father and mother, remembering driving down to the north end of Topsail Island when there were no lights to be found, remembering the old Atlantic Beach Circle where I first heard the Embers and learned about beach music.  Unlike people who go to the beach for pleasure, unlike those who have second homes there for enjoyment, my new home there is really going back home. 

 

I look forward to walking the beach and pier with my wife.  I look forward to fresh seafood especially from the Riverview, where I have not dined in years and my new found love Nickys of Swansboro. I look forward to shopping in Jacksonville again, where I spend many days with my mother learning how to shop for bargains. Having the opportunity to be close enough to Richlands so I can take in lunch at Arnolds and attend my home church occasionally . The regular enjoyment of knowing my highest elevation point during the week will be trips over the high rise Emerald Isle bridge where I can enjoy the wondrous beauty of my Eastern North Carolina sounds. Enjoying the quiet solitude at the end of a long fishing pier.  Regular trips over the White Oak river bridges at Swansboro where the breathtaking view rivals any in North Carolina.   Being in the daily presence of some of the finest people on this earth, US Marines.  Finally this flat lander is where he wants to be "whatever the phase for the rest of my days".  

 So excuse me if I am distracted as I take in the salt air and peace of the my beloved eastern North Carolina beaches and sounds. I am as much a natural part of them as the loggerheads and spots who return home here too and here it is hoped that I will breathe my last breath and be buried in sight of the New River overlooking Onslow Bay. 

 Have you ever stepped on a sandspur barefooted? Then you must be from down home!