Please read the very first 100 NC Counties post for background info on our quest here.
We hadn’t planned on spending the day in Edenton. We drove two hours north of home to Bertie County to deal with some family matters, but literally the second we arrived plans shifted and we were left with nothing to do but turn around and head directly home. Um, no.
I began to rack my brain for what was in the area. At the time all I could see was corn field after corn field, with a tobacco field thrown in here and there. Then I remembered Edenton, rumored to be one of the South’s prettiest small towns and a place I couldn’t remember ever visiting. We headed about 15 more miles northeast into Chowan County, across the Chowan River and made a day of it.
We started on the waterfront, at the Barker House. Built in 1782, it was owned by Penelope Barker, one of the 51 women who were a part of the Edenton Tea Party. The women didn’t dump any tea into the Albemarle Sound, but they did let the British know they would be having no more of their tea. It was a big deal for the little town.
The house is a welcome center and it was there that we picked up information on the trolley tour, the lighthouse and other activities.
It was also there that we saw our first mayflies. As the day progressed we saw hundreds of these bugs, maybe thousands. My little bug-lovers were captivated.
We headed to Colonial Park, steps from the Barker House, to burn off some energy. The park is waterfront and has showers and bathrooms for those who dock their boats in Edenton’s harbor. The gnats fly pretty thick here; bug spray will be premeditated next time!
After leaving the park we did a little shopping on Broad Street. It was a hot day and we soon found ourselves inside an old-fashioned drug store that advertised ice cream and orangeades on their sidewalk sign. We’d never been inside one and I was fascinated. At the back of the small building was the pharmacy for prescription pick-up, at the front was an old-style soda fountain, and in the middle you could find everything from perfume to toilet paper to Little Golden Books. I was in The Andy Griffith show and loved it! Walgreens has nothing on a quaint, friendly, family-owned store.
We picked up a few things at a cute little children’s shop called The Silly Monkey before heading back towards the water for our trolley tour.
I was a little worried about how my nine, seven and three-year olds would do on the hour tour. The stars must have been aligned just right because we had no problems, even though it was mid-afternoon.
We saw the home of Joseph Hewes, a signer of the Declaration of Independence. We saw graveyards, each with interesting stories of their own. One had been moved, all the bodies dug up and carried to a new location, save three or four. One had people buried under the church and one on top of the other.
We saw what was recently discovered to be the oldest house in the state, a tiny little thing near the old cotton mill village.
We even saw one of the old Sears catalog houses. Ordered in 1900, it cost $400.
Our tour didn’t last the full hour and each of my kids left the trolley happy. Whew.
We walked a short distance to the Roanoke River Lighthouse, originally built in 1886 and moved to its current location over Edenton Harbor in 2012. It is now the last standing original screwpile lighthouse left in North Carolina. For a small cost we toured inside, which had a parlor/living room, a kitchen, two bedrooms, and the actual lighthouse light, which was not available for viewing.
After our lighthouse tour we stopped at a few cannons placed along the waterfront for my youngest to see. He pretended to fire cannons at the enemy. It was after we left that I learned a civil war battle was fought precisely where he was firing. Hence, the cannons.
We headed back to Bertie County, where we were staying for the night. We picked up some southern cooking at Heritage House in Windsor (“best place in town,” Grandaddy B told me) and took it back to a cottage on the Chowan River, a place where some of my most vivid childhood memories were made.
The cottage hadn’t changed one bit since I had been there many, many years ago. The kids got to see the place they had often heard about…the place where I would catch fireflies in a jar and sit them beside the little bed I slept in at night….the place where I would lay in the screened-in porch hammock for hours with a book…the place where I stepped into a wasp nest while exploring the hillside woods and then screamed my head off until Aunt B came out with tobacco from her cigarettes to put on my multiple stings…the place where I swam, at the very bottom of a steep, winding road, in the river with my sister and whatever other children were visiting the other cabins at the time…a happy place where there was always family and perfect pancakes on a griddle and sips of coffee and love. I just called it The River, and if I knew we were going then all was right in the world.
And that’s how my children and I spent the evening, in The River. Clothes and all, because you can’t miss out on memories made just because you didn’t pack a bathing suit. Sometimes you just have to roll with it.
The next day we spent a lovely morning eating blueberry pancakes and exploring forts and fields and attics with precious family that we see far too little of. Sometimes life requires that you surrender your plan, go with what’s in front of you, and let the blessings pour out.