Aircraft

Dad was a career Navy officer so my family flew military transport to various bases overseas. At 7 years old, I remember flying a DC-4 (or something similar) to Newfoundland. A few years later, we were on long round trip flights to and from the island of Guam on a (MATS) Lockheed Constellation. Ever since, I’ve had a fascination for airplanes.

On a west coast trip recently, we visited the Palm Springs Air Museum in California, where there was plenty to see.

Highlights for me included a replica Memphis Belle used in filming the 1990 movie of the same name.

The B-17 is powered by 4 nine-cylinder air-cooled radial engines. This bomber is undergoing extensive maintenance to be flown again for a living history experience.

Who wouldn’t love the graphics on this P-40 Warhawk Fighter?

During World War II at 18 years old, our 41st President flew and bailed out of a TBM Avenger like this one.

Of personal interest was the museum’s extensive collection of POW/MIA Vietnam era bracelets. During that war, my brother-in-law flew as a navigator aboard an A-6A Intruder off the USS Kitty Hawk. Returning from a mission over North Vietnam, Jim and his pilot were lost and listed MIA. After years of searching, remains were located and verified through DNA testing. 2006 he was brought home and buried with full military honors at Arlington National Cemetery.

It was emotional to see 2 bracelets with Jim’s name and missing-in-action date. My family wore these for years in hopes of his coming home alive. He was 23 years old and the loss changed our family dynamic forever.

 

Front Row Seat

In 2002 while touring with a group of educators along Hatteras Island, renown coastal geologist Stan Riggs mentioned the annual erosion rate along North Rodanthe at 14 to 16 feet. Living on the edge, I’d seen it happening, especially after a groin was built at Oregon Inlet in 1989. More recently the issue has gotten lots of publicity and we’ve become a poster child for beach erosion.

My last blog entry addressed a certain row of houses collapsing into the surf. It’s a predictable yet sad spectacle. When the house called Front Row Seat went down on September 24th, I photographed what was left. Formerly known as Fric, the mess it left was in retrospect, avoidable. Dare County should have never issued the building permit in the first place.

Other rental beach houses fall (pun intended) into the same category. The pink and aqua-green McMansions on the left were built in 2007 and permits issued after objections to them being constructed. I took this photo in 2012. Now a decade later they’re closer to the brink.

On this ever-changing barrier island, the ocean isn’t the culprit!

Fric and Frac

In 1998 a man with 2 oceanfront lots on the north end of Rodanthe had an idea to build two fairly similar cottages side by side, one called Fric and the other Frac. When he applied for his permits, building inspector Elvin Hooper denied them because the plans didn’t meet legal setback rules from the last line of vegetation. As a result the applicant appealed to the planning director and county commissioners. Despite the shore’s high erosion rate, they granted him a variance and instructed Elvin to issue the permits.

This photo was taken a year later as Hurricane Dennis spun offshore and wreaked havoc on north Rodanthe. As a result several structures went down, but Fric and Frac somehow survived its first year. 

Now 25 years later, attempts to protect the oceanfront continue to be futile.

The two houses in the foreground are the latest to go down, strewn all over the place.

The houses formerly known as Fric and Frac are standing dubiously as other houses nearby are also condemned. They may be next to litter our once pristine seashore.

For Valor

A hundred and six years ago today, one of the most daring rescues in Coast Guard history occurred. August 16, 1918 during World War l, the British tanker Mirlo exploded offshore after being targeted by a German U-boat. The crew at Chicamacomico Coast Guard Station launched their 25-foot surfboat offshore to where the Mirlo, loaded with fuel, was an inferno. Despite the danger, Keeper John Allen Midgett and 5 Surfmen maneuvered among the flames. Miraculously, they rescued 42 out of a crew of 51 and brought them to shore.

As a result, Captain John Allen Midgett, Zion Midgett, Arthur Midgett, Prochorus O’Neal, Clarence Midgett, and Leroy Midgett received highly prestigious awards.

All six men were decorated with United States Gold Lifesaving Medals.

In 1921, King George V of Great Britain bestowed specially minted Gold Lifesaving Medals to each of them.

July of 1930 the same lifesavers were awarded the American Cross of Honor. At the time only 11 had ever been given. Six of them belong to those men at Chicamacomico.

 

Captain John Allen Midgett was also presented a silver cup by the British Board of Trade.

As a past board member and president of Chicamacomico Historical Association, I kept personal photographic records of events at the station over many years. I photographed these awards in 1993, when we displayed them in celebration of the 75th anniversary of the Mirlo Rescue.

For a detailed account of this heroism go here:

https://chicamacomico.org/mirlo-rescue/

Incoming Tide

Summer season has peaked and there’s plenty of activity on Hatteras Island. It seems our beaches are being enjoyed by more visitors than ever.

Looking north from the deck of the Rodanthe Pier recently, I noticed a distinct line drawn in the sand from a high tide. Beachgoers almost seemed defiant, setting up right next to it. Occasionally a wave would wash a bit higher, causing  groups to retreat.

With more oceanfront cottages collapsing into the sea lately, I saw some symbolism here. The south view from the pier illustrates a more serious issue. I can understand folk’s desire for a castle in the sand, but get too close and eventually there’s hell to pay.