Tourism leaders might consider recruiting leprechauns

It’s good to learn that tourism officials along North Carolina’s Crystal Coast are charging ahead with an ambitious marketing plan for 2019. It takes courage and faith to forge ahead to bounce back from Hurricane Florence, while clouds of economic uncertainty still loom.

Carteret County News-Times staff writer Elise Clouser reported in the May 15 edition that Carteret County’s tourism leaders are fairly optimistic that the 2019 summer season will yield decent returns. Let’s have faith that they’re on target.

No doubt, Florence (the monster storm of September 2018) had devastating and long-lasting effects on the hospitality industry in Carteret County. As we enter the peak of the 2019 tourism season, all is not back to normal.

The inventory of lodging accommodations is below normal. Several hotels are still under repair. Many vacation rental cottages suffered extensive damage as well. Several condominium complexes on Bogue Banks are still in the restoration phase and units are currently uninhabitable.

New properties have become available, however, to help fill the void. Hence, the prediction for the summer season is somewhat positive, but clouded with “iffyness.”

We have to pray and hope for the best…and extend the “hand of hospitality” to our summer guests. Those among us who are limber mentally can help by bending over backward and doing backflips to impress our “summer company.”

Should we be inclined to tweak the marketing plan and think way outside the box, town leaders in Emerald Isle could roll out the green carpet. It would be a zany effort to recruit the world’s 236 surviving leprechauns to come to the Crystal Coast for summer vacation. Dagnabbit, wouldn’t that be one heck of a booster shot for local tourism?

Today, the leprechauns are regarded as an “endangered species,” residing underground in a cavern beneath Carlingford, County Louth, Ireland. As a rule, leprechauns try to avoid human contact. But, they’ve taken a shine to the world’s official “leprechaun whisperer” in Carlingford. He’s a bloke named Kevin Woods. The leprechauns have named him “McCoillte” (man of the forest).

He tells visitors that he was approached in 2002 by an elder leprechaun named Carraig, who shared that once upon a time, millions of leprechauns populated Ireland, but “they have been dying out because people stopped believing in them.”

Carraig told Woods that the leprechauns needed someone from humankind to protect them, otherwise they would die out altogether. Woods was selected by the leprechaun nation as the man for the job. He has taken it seriously.

He originated the Carlingford National Leprechaun Hunt as an annual event to enlist believers whose faith will help keep the leprechauns alive.

Irish travel writer Catherine Mack interviewed Woods and asked him to describe the leprechauns he has seen. He replied: “They are spirits who are about 18 inches tall, have top hats, green jackets and trousers. Their shoes always have gold buckles. They were cobblers because they spent so much time dancing, and so they wear out their shoes – which is why they became cobblers.”

Mack asked Woods if she might see them. “It’s up to you,” he answered, “if you have the gift. I am not sure whether you have the gift or not.’”

As a 75-year-old storyteller, Woods is fond of the tale about “the coach driver who would stop at a spot on a road in the middle of nowhere. When the tourists asked why, he’d tell them it was ‘to let the leprechauns cross.’”

Woods said that when he sits with the leprechauns, “I feel their happiness. I listen to their music and often dance with them in my heart.”

One supposes that malarkey and blarney are traits of a good “leprechaun whisperer”…as well as an Irish tourism promoter.

“The leprechauns are just as concerned about ‘Brexit’ as we are,” Woods said. (The term “Brexit” is short for “British exit,” meaning the United Kingdom’s decision to leave the European Union.)

Much of the discussion is focusing on the border between Ireland and Northern Ireland. The 310-mile border now has about 300 crossings. All are soft borders, with an absence of checkpoints. Hard borders with physical barriers would be more than a nuisance; they would form wedges affecting travel and tourism, commerce and friendship.

According to Woods, some of the leprechaun tunnels at Carlingford extend into Northern Ireland.

This is also a lifeline for the leprechauns to connect to their rowdy cousins, the clurichauns. The clurichans detest work, but they love to imbibe. They’re welcome to come to Emerald Isle, too. Clurichauns would fit in well here, where it’s possible to fish and party all day and all night.

Emerald Isle savors its connection to Ireland

Emerald Isle, N.C., has a bit of an Irish air and flair about it. The town strives to be clean and green. Green is a dominant color in the town’s official color scheme.

The town savors its Irish connection and celebrates St. Patrick’s Day every year in March with a whoppin’ big festival, the wearin’ o’ the green and other things allowed within the pub tent area.

The original Emerald Isle, of course, is the island of Ireland, co-occupied by the Republic of Ireland and Northern Ireland. The latter remains part of the United Kingdom.

Ireland’s nickname as the “Emerald Isle” comes from “the large amounts of greenness that are due to the moist air and temperate climate,” explains the Tourism Ireland organization.

It’s been said people have inhabited this Irish island for eons. Saint Patrick himself made his presence felt in 432 to convert the Irish people to Christianity. He is regarded as one of the patron saints of Ireland and the official national apostle of Ireland. St. Patrick used the Irish shamrock with its three leaflets to explain the Holy Trinity to the Celts and Druids – the unity of Father, Son and Holy Spirit, a central concept of Christian beliefs.

In contrast, Emerald Isle, N.C., was not inhabited by white settlers until the 1900s. Former Emerald Isle Mayor Art Schools said the entire uninhabited, 13-mile stretch of Bogue Banks west of Salter Path became the property of John A. Royall of Boothbay, Maine.

“We know for certain Royall started to buy land on Bogue Banks in 1910, perhaps as an investment, health retreat, winter residence, or simply a good location for a hunting/fishing cabin,” commented Walt Zaenker, chair of the Pine Knoll Shores History Committee.

Mary Warshaw of Beaufort, an artist and historian, cited an article that appeared in a 1913 edition of the Potsdam (N.Y.) Courier that was written by Martin V.B. Ives, who was “on assignment” in Beaufort.

Ives described Royall as “a man of ample means.” He purchased the whole tract of land available on the western end of Bogue Banks, “neck and crop, and today, if the writer is any judge, he owns a paradise.” (One definition of the term “neck and crop” is to act briskly with completeness.) Royall, it seems, was quite adept at that maneuver.

Ives visited the Royall’s bungalow on Bogue Banks – “built without cutting away any more of its trees and native shrubbery than was strictly necessary.”

While touring the property, Ives wrote that he “viewed its hard, white shell-covered and wave-washed sand beach…breathed in old ocean’s nectar of the gods in great doses. As a lover of nature and woodman, I have never seen a more heart-lifting, getting-next-to-nature, making a man open his lungs to drink in deep draughts of health-giving ozone with the flavor of the pine, and a ‘thank-God-I-was-alive’ place.”

(Dagnabbit, those picturesque words form a moving testimony for Crystal Coast tourism.)

Schools said Royall sold his property to Henry K. Fort of Philadelphia in 1922. Fort drew up plans and specifications for a resort development (still on file at town hall). America’s Great Depression (1929-39) squashed those grandiose plans.

After Fort’s death in 1943, the property was inherited by his daughter, Anita Fort Maulik, also a Philadelphian. She sold timber rights to William Britton McLean (known as W.B.) in 1946. McLean and George Spell had a sawmill business in Red Springs in Robeson County.

McLean saw the potential to develop the island as a “seaside paradise,” but alone he couldn’t come up with the cash to meet Maulik’s asking price of $350,000. Spell agreed to chip in, as did other Red Springs’ investors J.A. “Bus” Singleton and Hiram Grantham, but still they were about $150,000 short.

Schools said Robert Holding, then president of First Citizens Bank of Smithfield, put down the rest of the cash needed in the names of his three sons, Frank, Lewis and Robert Jr. When the $350,000 sales transaction was completed in 1954, it was the largest land deal ever recorded in Carteret County.

Schools said McLean and Spell sought the advice of a land development consultant from Florida, who requested an airplane ride to survey the property.

As they flew over Bogue Banks, the consultant was impressed and inspired by what he saw – miles of lush forest, a solid green gem in the middle of a sea of sparking water – and said: “This place shall be known as Emerald Isle.” And so it was.

McLean, one supposes, had an opportunity to step forward to issue a veto. The Maclean clan is one of the oldest of all of Scotland’s highland clans and was famed as great warriors. Genealogists have identified 152 variations of the spelling. McLean is one of the most common.

“The Scots and the Irish have a huge amount of cultural similarity and find each other good company,” offered Kitty Murphy of Scotland. “We have a huge amount of cultural similarity and find we are more alike than we are different. Quite simply, we blend well.”

Jim Keogh of Ireland said the Scots and the Irish “both have a long history of whisky making and appreciating.” Niall MacDonagh of Ireland said: “If you cannot be Irish, the next best thing is being Scottish. We are first cousins.”

Sláinte! The Irish toast for “greetings, cheers and good health” is pronounced in Carteret County as “slawn-che.”

What makes ‘The Old North State’ unique?

Will a bill proposed in the North Carolina General Assembly to specify “The Old North State” as the official state nickname gain any traction?

North Carolina generally has two surviving nicknames that are regularly used – “The Old North State” and “The Tar Heel State.”

The older of the two is “The Old North State,” and this term is used in both the official state song and the official state toast. Could it be an open-and-shut case? You decide.

In 2015, Our State magazine featured an essay by Katie Quine. She framed the nickname question as a matter of love.

“When I think about my love for this state, my mind always trails to Charles Kuralt’s speech in 1993,” given at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill to celebrate the institution’s 200th commencement ceremony.

Quine commented: “His entire cadence is beautiful, but it’s his opening 13 words that resound deepest within my heart, ‘What is it that binds us to this place as to no other?’”

Kuralt continued: “It is not the well or the bell or the stone walls. Or the crisp October nights or the memory of dogwoods blooming…our love for this place is based on the fact that it is, as it was meant to be, the University of the people.”

Quine opined: “I’d like to believe his words could be applied more generally to North Carolina as a whole.”

“Truly, what binds us to this place of the pine? What makes us want to call North Carolina home? In and of itself, tar isn’t beautiful, and it isn’t nice, but those who have it forever stuck to their heels sure are,” Quine wrote.

A compilation of accolades from various sources says being a Tar Heel embodies “discipline, courage, determination, gallantry, honor and commendation.”

Dr. Bill Ferris, a history professor at UNC-CH, said a modern-day interpretation of Tar Heel “is associated with being grounded and anchored in a powerful way to the land.”

That surely was the case with Charles Kuralt. He was born in Wilmington in 1934 and studied journalism at UNC-CH where he was editor of The Daily Tar Heel. Kuralt’s first professional job was with The Charlotte News, where he wrote an award-winning column called “Charles Kuralt’s People.” In 1957, at age 23, he became the youngest correspondent ever hired by CBS News.

He later introduced a good-news segment on The CBS Evening News with Walter Cronkite. Called “On the Road,” the feature ran for more than 20 years. During that time, Kuralt and his crew wore out six campers, crisscrossing the country’s back roads and telling stories about ordinary Americans. He later anchored CBS News Sunday Morning before retiring in 1994.

Kuralt never lost touch with North Carolina. He wrote about the state in his book “North Carolina Is My Home,” and some of his best days were spent tucked away atop Grandfather Mountain in a two-room cabin owned by his dear friend Hugh Morton.

Morton’s getaway was known as Anvil Rock. The cabin “features a rough-hewn wooden ceiling, flagstone floor and a view of Linville Peak,” wrote Leigh Ann Henion for Our State. “It takes its name from the top-heavy boulder that makes up its far wall. In summer, the rock exudes coolness. In winter, it seeps warmth. Here, Charles Kuralt became grounded by stone and solitude.”

From this perch, Kurault would venture down into the nooks and crannies of western North Carolina’s mountains to visit with “the storytellers, moonshiners and wood-carvers. He heard from blacksmiths and wildcrafters. He scouted the northwest corner of the state for stories as he had once scoured the country,” Henion said. “Each evening, he returned to Anvil Rock to pen all he had heard.”

Kuralt loved his university. He once observed: “And so, in concentric circles, as if from a pebble tossed from a pool, the influence of the University of North Carolina moves outward to the farthest corners of our state, and far beyond its boundaries.”

But, dagnabbit, he was the most in love with the people of North Carolina! His concluding remarks to his audience at that 1993 address, were:

“Care about one another…my warmest wish for you is to be sensitive enough to feel supreme tenderness toward others, and that you be strong enough to show it. That is a commandment, by the way, and not from me. I believe it is also the highest expression of civilization.”

The General Assembly members…as well as all the rest of us…should take those 50 closing words to heart.