The coastland times. [volume] (Mnateo [i.e. Manteo], N.C.) 1947-1959, 1959-01-23
HOTEL COMFORT; WHISTLES
FLU VIRUSES; FREE-LOADERS

| FAO NARUOGOS rhEE-LOADENS
Then and Now! How different
the whistles of the small steam
ers, ferries and great ships that
used to ply Norfolk Harbor, and
rend the air with their salty thun-
der. lay in my bed in the Fair
fax Hotel, two weeks ago and
meditated on the whistles l used
to hear back to 40 years ago when
| | first stopped at the Fairfax.
From the higher windows of this
snug and safe hotel, one may look
down Elizabeth River, at small
boats and great ships outward
bound toward Hampton Roads,
some of them setting forth across
the globe.
I always liked to rest at the
Fairfax because it is quiet place.
1t has not always been thus of
course, for during World War II
Uncle Sam took it to assure a
hostelry in Norfolk for Merchant
Seamen considered so essential to
winning Of the war. Among the
merchant seamen were many
whose manners paralleled the at
mosphere of sweat and muscle
and profanity in which they lived.
The hotel was badly battered
when Uncle Sam turned it back
to the owner. Its owner now is
Claude Leach, an old newspaper
man with other hotel interests.
And while the friendliness and
comfort at the Fairfax HotelAon
City Hall Avenue is now compar-
able with that of its former glor-
ious days, the whistles one hears
F., from the harbor are far from be-
ing the same. l like to hear heavy
whistles, or coarse, salty ones.
Whistles that come upward and
outward as from the depths, which
suggest the black gang toiling in
the bowels of a ship to generate
great pressures of steam, and
surges of power to drive huge
cargoes to the other ends of the
earth. 1t should sound like a hun
CRY bull bound for his home pas
ture, and SAVIOR of salt and fog
and barnacles, of flying spume and
distant rolling seas.
1t CRATES on my nerves to hear
the tinny screech of the little
boats from a stingy blast of air,
like unto high school girl grown
hysterical out of her disappoint-
ment when the coach rules against
the home team.
I dislike my rest to be inter-
rupted by the rude and dismal air
blast of today's diesel powered
craft which skaters the nerves
like unto the squawk of some old
squaw suddenly and unexpectedly
come upon by a rambling wood
man and surprised squat in the
bushes doing what comes natural
| ly.
The old time whistles of steam
suggested a product of toll, of
muscle, Drawn and skill. It saw
ored of romance and adventure.
1t revived memories of early days
when a young person was enthrall-
ed, and marvelled at the mystery
of what he couldn't see, one of
these being the voice from afar
which could be like the voice of a
gian beyond distant mountain.
Our harbors are losing their
| glamour and appeal to the senses.
The voice of the harbor is now
discordant and repulsive. Its ac-
tivity is not one of life and ener-
| gy and skilled and studied effort.
It's shore line grows dingier, dus-
tier and more decadent with the
years.
l hope my column this week is
not too dismal. l am driven by
necessity on a Wednesday to put
down a few of the thoughts that
have piled up in my head during
the past several weeks. For some
weeks / have gone under diff
Guilty with growing attack of
the severe virus which has hit so
many people of late. Finally Sun
day evening l had to take to bed.
Monday morning l up and went
to Washington where spent the
rest of the day and half of Tues
day in bed. Back to the doctor
again Tuesday night, getting two
more kinds of medicine, after l
had been taking 100000 units of
something or other every six hours
for two days. So you can see l
may be of critical turn of mind.
Down with the Free-L0aders
Above and beyond all obliga-
tions of the kind is a mans first
duty,-loyalty to his country and
its people, to his state, his county,
his community. Loyalty to party
and friends would follow, all
things being equal. Every citizen