The sleepy little town of Pollocksville, North Carolina only
has around 300 residents. Unless you
travel to Emerald Isle by way of Highway 58, you may have never heard of this
tiny Jones County hamlet. I know
Pollocksville well, not only because it is my wife’s hometown, but it is where
I was first called as a pastor back in 1977.
The church
stepped out on a limb when they called a young 23 year old inexperienced
pastor. I sure had a lot to learn, but
they were patient and kind. We loved
living in the small town where we walked to the bank and the Post Office and
lived next door to the church. I was on
the fire department and the rescue squad.
We got together for “pig pickins” and fish stews. The three churches; Baptist, Methodist, and
Presbyterian, worshiped together at Thanksgiving, Maundy Thursday, and at
sunrise on Easter Sunday. Everybody knew
their neighbor and in times of need, you could count on friends and even strangers
to help.
The biggest
weather disaster while I lived in Pollocksville was the March 1980 blizzard
that dumped almost two feet of snow on Jones County. When the power went out, I put my fireman
boots on and trudged through the deep snow to the church where I retrieved a
gas heater. The whole family slept
together in the family room as the little gas heater kept us warm. The storm
paralyzed the town for a couple of days.
We were all worried about the Methodist preacher’s wife who was
expecting a baby any minute, but the baby held off and the snow melted and we
soon returned to normal. Three weeks ago
Hurricane Florence dealt a crippling blow to my old town. There may not be a normal to return to
now.
It wasn’t just
the almost 40 inches of rain that fell from the skies, but it was the Trent
River that soon overflowed its banks and produced unprecedented flooding and
devastation. The town’s mayor was
interviewed by a local television station with water standing behind him as far
as you could see. It wasn’t the river or
a lake; it was Highway 17, the main traffic artery through the town. The water was nine to ten feet deep in
places. It flooded dozens of homes,
leaving them full of mud and debris. My
first church is located blocks away from the river, but it flooded along with
the parsonage. Many of the houses in
Pollocksville have been destroyed and will not be livable until major
renovations can be completed. Some are
fearful the residents will never return.
We quickly
returned to normal in Lexington and Davidson County following the storm. We’re getting ready for the BBQ Festival,
Halloween festivals, and Sportsman Saturday.
But for thousands of our neighbors in the eastern part of the state, it
will take years to recover.
Let’s not forget
the flood victims. There are many ways
we can reach out and make a difference.
Many of our churches have connections to denominational disaster relief
ministries that have boots on the ground in the flood damaged regions. All of these ministries need financial support. There are churches and schools that continue
to collect supplies for those have suffered great losses in the flood. And I know there are churches that will be
sponsoring work teams to go and help with the massive clean-up effort. Some can give, some can go and we all can
pray.
We were spared
major damage from the storm. Our
neighbors down east were not. I hope
that our gratitude in our good fortune will translate into acts of compassion
and mercy for those who are suffering. Dr. Albert Schweitzer once wrote, “The purpose
of human life is to serve, and to show compassion and the will to help others.”
