In the Sweet By and By

Scroll down to see the gallery of Portsmouth Homecoming photos.

This was my second Portsmouth Homecoming, and although the weather was darn near perfect, I was happy to reminisce with others about the last Homecoming in 2012 when the weather was decidedly not. That Homecoming is like a badge of honor – anyone can show up on a day like this (warm sunshine, blue skies, and fresh breezes to blow the mosquitoes away) – but it took some extra mettle to be here in the cold wind and rain last time.

My daughter Mariah and I were old hands at this year’s Homecoming, feeling connected to the Portsmouth family because we’d been before and will come again. We don’t have any real ties to the island – we’re not related to the old families and we’ve never volunteered or worked for NPS – but we feel the magic anyway. We’re not alone in that. Homecoming is sponsored each year by The Friends of Portsmouth Island, whose membership includes many people who discovered Portsmouth the way John Denver discovered the Rocky Mountains: coming home to a place they’d never been before. 

Every time I leave Ocracoke, I leave on a boat, but the boat ride to Portsmouth is a special adventure that seems to carry us across both water and time. The romance of leaving behind the trappings of modern life and journeying to a simpler time beckons me. (I was hugely disappointed to learn, about two hours into my visit, that I had cell service on the island. What?)

Because it’s Homecoming, volunteers and NPS personnel meet visitors at the docks to relieve us of our burdens of potluck contributions. They load our coolers and bags onto their 4WD golf carts, and carry them ahead of us to the food tent. We were free to explore the houses for an hour or so before the group photo op. 

It’s fun to see the village a-buzz with people – over 400 of us, much like the 19th century when Portsmouth was “the metropolis of the Outer Banks.” At its peak in the 1860’s, there were 685 residents, but the population steadily declined after that until 1971 when the last three islanders moved away. How they must’ve hated leaving, knowing that their once-vibrant village would be called a “ghost town” and the Portsmouth diaspora would be scattered to the four winds.

In 1992, the Friends of Portsmouth Island held their first Homecoming, and they’ve welcomed folks every other year. This was the 11th such gathering. Homecoming brings together former residents, their families, and all the people who’ve fallen in love with Portsmouth over the years and want to feel a connection to its past and present. 

Homecomings in the South are usually about church families, and the Portsmouth Methodist Church is the heart of the village. We celebrated its 100th birthday yesterday, with a service under a tent out front. In 2012, Hurricane Sandy further shifted the church on its foundation; repairs on the structure will finally begin this summer, but for now, we could only peek inside, and plan for 2016.   

The Homecoming program included prayers, preaching, hymns, history, special music, acknowledgements, introductions, announcements, and gift-giving.

Friends of Portsmouth Island president Richard Meissner awarded prizes to the youngest attendee (17 months), the oldest (Rudy Carter, age 92, who is the nephew of the last male resident, Henry Pigott), and one who’d come the farthest (Caelin Shrieves from Australia! He’s a direct descendant of the Willis family). Richard called out for descendants to identify themselves and heard from 29 Willises, some Styrons, some Robertses, three generations of Salters, 14 Pigotts, 8 McWilliams, 13 Newtons, and 9 Gilgos. Almost half of the gathering were there for their first Homecoming.

Portsmouth is part of Cape Lookout National Seashore, and superintendent Pat Kenney was on hand to talk about the Park Service’s commitment to preserving the island and village. Kenney also gave a shout-out to Portsmouth’s NPS maintenance man, Dave Frum. Woo-hoo! Dave is a long-time Ocracoke resident who has worked on Portsmouth for over 20 years. “Dave is the heart and soul of the National Park Service on Portsmouth,” Kenney said. “Everything on Portsmouth has been touched by him, and I like to take the time at Homecoming to celebrate all the work he does." 

To help celebrate the church’s birthday, the bishop of the North Carolina Conference of the Methodist Church came out to speak, along with district superintendents from the Sound and Beacon districts (since no one is sure which district the Portsmouth Methodist Church belongs to, they invited both).

Toward the end of the sermonizing, I was put to mind of Lyle Lovett’s song “Church.” (“To the Lord let praises be, it’s time for dinner, now let’s go eat!”) But eventually, the blessings were said and the line for victuals was formed. 

Oh, the food! Two long tables groaning with the weight of fried chicken, ham and biscuits, cole slaw, beans, salads galore, watermelon, kale, pasta, pound cake, cookies, sweet tea… Give Pastor Laura Stern the credit – she blessed the food, and, like the miracle of the loaves and fishes, there was more than enough for all. Our contribution was banana bars (thanks to Linda Scarborough’s quick response to my Facebook request for chocolate chips) and they were a hit. Someone even asked for the recipe!

With full bellies, we wandered about to meet some of the other attendees. I got a chance to talk to Hazel Gilgo Arthur, the only person at this year’s Homecoming who’d ever lived on Portsmouth. I also chatted with documentary filmmakers Tom Lassiter and Jere Snyder, who were there with their cameras. They’d been encouraged to come by Karen Amspacher, after they worked with her on a film for the Core Sound Waterfowl Museum. I asked if anyone had commissioned a Portsmouth movie and they told me no, not yet. “This is a labor of love. This story is a gem that needs to be shared,” Jere said.

We wandered to the Post Office to get our postcards postmarked (“We’re like Brigadoon,” said USPS employee Melissa Garriah. “Only it’s every two years instead of every hundred years.”) and then visited our favorite: Henry Pigott’s house. Open to the public only at Homecoming, it invites you to take lots of pictures (see below.)

The sun was getting warmer. Mariah got one mosquito bite; I got two. Then we knew it was time to head home.

I moved to Ocracoke in June of ’92, but for some lame reason or other, I missed Portsmouth Homecoming for twenty years. I’m determined not to miss it again, and neither rain, nor wind, nor mosquitoes will keep me from it.

Two years ago, five year-old Mariah and I set off on Saturday morning in good high spirits. When I had told her, a few days earlier, what it would be like at Portsmouth, I said, “We’ll get mosquito-bit, we’ll get sunburned, we might get rained on, but we’re going to have fun!” She thought that was hilarious and we repeated it as our mantra up until we got on the boat. Then we changed our tune to: “We’re cold, we’re wet, we’re wind-blown, but we’re having an adventure!” Rain didn’t dampen spirits at Homecoming that year, and although we knew we’d enjoy better weather this time around, we also knew there’s special magic in your first time.

If you’ve never been to Homecoming, plan ahead for your first time in 2016, and Mariah and I will meet you in the sweet by and by. 

Thanks to Friends of Portsmouth Island and Homecoming organizer Marjorie Spruill for another great event. Click on the photos below to make them bigger and to read the captions.