Powell, William S., North Carolina Through Four Centuries, Chapel Hill, N. C., The University of North Carolina Press, 1989. Rankin, Hugh F., The North Carolina Continentals, Chapel Hill, N. C., The University of North Carolina Press, 1971. ______, ______, The North Carolina Continental Line in the American Revolution, Raleigh, N. C. Department of Cultural Resources, Division of Archives and History, 1977. Unknown, History of the Johnston Family, �Dedicated to Mrs. James D. Moore,� Dunn, N. C., Upchurch Printing Co., c. 1941. White, Virgil D., Index to Revolutionary War Service Records, Vol. II (of 4 Vols.), Waynesboro, TN, National Historical Publishing Co., 1983. (Printed version of NARA Microfilm Publication #M860, 58 rolls). SIGHTS AND SOUNDS OF THE FOURTH OF JULY By Micki Cottle A light mist floats gently over the trees this Southern morning, but the sliding orange ball of merciless sun tells me, mist will burn quickly away, and the day will be hot, throat scorching hot. There is no heat quite like the volcanic heat of North Carolina in July, August and usually September. The frogs are still screeching somewhere in their tropical hideaways. Such a noisy chorus. They sound a little like the "good old boys" when they were blessed with fire in their souls and a natural gift of political histrionics. The days when thunderous voices would ring out over the House or Senate Chamber, the voices that would make you sit up and take notice. For me perched high in the House balcony, it was the best entertainment in town. Well, most of the rascals in politics were snappy actors, even known to wipe a tear or two every now and then. Sadly, like old-timey, God fearing, pulpit-banging preachers, there aren't a handful of the real "good old boys" left. Time has winked pretty hard at most of these old warriors and I doubt we'll ever hear the melodious likes of them again. These fruitful months of July and August are packed full of the sights and sounds of summer spectacles, it is a little dazzling. Day follows silky day, and we absorb the heat, and breathe the richness of these sweet seconds, knowing life itself is so precious we must trace each footprint of time, savor each second. Time will never taste sweeter than this moment. I remember childhood visits to the farm. Fat, glistening watermelons laying idly in blistered country fields. "Eat all you can hold children" my uncle would say. And we did. We gouged our little city souls with watermelon and blistering July sunshine. The juice dribbled down our chins, puddled in our play-suits, and we just sat there, fat and sassy. July brings us that firecracker day of celebration. Independence Day. What an expensive word this one has been? Worth every nickel! I enjoy the noisy-sentimental-teary plea-sures of the Fourth of July. I feel good watching folks waving flags. And fireworks, nothing beats fireworks. Wonderful to live in a country where Americans still seem to be proud to fly their flags and sing their patriotic songs. Occasionally, we independent Americans need to pause and remember who we are, where we came from. We need to look upward at the streaks of man-made magic that embrace our sense of wonder, bringing ahhhs and ohhhs from tired parents and squeals of excitement from bright-eyed youngsters. Finally sleepy, and a little lighter of heart we will stumble home to darkened houses, pausing briefly to remember, that indeed we are a part of a very large family in this United States of America. And despite our differences, we are tied securely at the hip with this belt of freedom. No matter how you might choose to celebrate your Fourth, quietly or gang-buster style, noisy and crowded; the fabric of this particular holiday was cut from the cloth of our American birth. Of all the holidays we celebrate, the Fourth of July has the power to shake us and make us smile at the unique privilege of being an American, proud. And if we aren't, as the old orators would have said, "we don't need to live here anymore." When all is said and done, most of us can expect to enjoy summer�s passing parade without the threat of dodging bullets, and the constant fight for simple daily survival. Most of our children do not go to bed hungry at night. And if our politicians irritate us too much, we have the privilege of voicing our opinions. We are no longer persecuted for our religious beliefs. We had forefathers, with a lot of insight, who spent a mighty long time ironing out this problem. So, maybe once again it is time to look around, take stock. Pause, as we walk back to our safe havens in these great, good, nights. Breath deeply of that intoxicating air of freedom. We do take it for granted you know. Then, silently, after all the hoopla has died down, we should thank our good Lord and remember our brave men and women who gave us this special country and this gift of freedom. And as we turn our thoughts to perhaps another time and place; remembering past Fourths, that we celebrated somewhere with other faces. These precious, fleeting pleasures, will all too quickly become part of our history. And these dusky summer evenings that lighten our world, will be stored in our hearts forever. TAR HEEL SOLDIER By Kent Wrench The "Duplin Turpentine Boys" carried their identity to war. They organized as the Duplin Turpentine Boys, Company E, 30th Reg. NC Troops in Teachey, NC, August 28, 1861. This company of soldiers were in part responsible for our state nickname that emerged from the war years. The earliest known recorded use of the term Tar Heel is in a diary entry dated, February 6, 1863, by Second Lieutenant William B. A. Lowrance, he wrote: "I know now what is meant by the piney woods region of North Carolina and the idea occurs to me that it is no wonder we are called Tar Heels." As the North Carolina soldiers left the piney woods of home and began to fill the ranks of the army of Northern Virginia, soldiers of other states sized up their crude and humble appearance and referred to them as Tar Heels. In the earliest days of the war being call a Tar Heel was to suffer insult. As the North Carolina Troops distin-guished themselves in battle, the mocking tone of the nickname Tar Heel gradually became a badge of honor. Gov. Zebulon Baird Vance bestowed the official approval of the nickname Tar Heels when he delivered a speech to North Carolina troops on March 28, 1864. According to one of the soldiers, the governor addressed them as "fellow Tar Heels� as we always stick." Major Joseph Englehard wrote following the battle of Ream�s Station: "It was a Tar Heel Fight." After the battle of Reams Station General Lee is reported to have cried out "Thank God for the Tar Heel boys!" During the war years North Carolina began to use the nickname proudly. Private George Quinton Peyton enlisted in the 13th Virginia Infantry, in May 1864. Peyton recorded in his diary his observation and thoughts as the 13th Virginia Army marched 511 miles in 32 days up the Shenandoah Valley toward Washington, D. C. Peyton had been a recruit of a single month when he recorded in his diary the following: An old lady gave me a big piece of loaf bread. The Tar Heels call it "Wasp Bread." John Archibald Gillis of Cumberland County, North Carolina was in Co A 63rd Reg. NCST. He was photograph holding a turpentine hack. In a sense he is a symbol of the many turpentine farmers turned soldier in the Old North State. He represents the lean lanky men and boys that left the turpentine woods to find adventure in the war. Was the nickname Tar Heels coined during the Civil War or was it already in use and only popularized outside the borders of our state during the war? We may never know. The Civil War certainly amplified and insured that the name would stick. JOHN CRUMPLER JR. ESQUIRE By Jerome Tew John Crumpler Jr. was born about 1756 and about the time his father settled in the Duplin area. I believe that John Crumpler Sr. (c1724-1782) married Nancy Holmes (c1731-c1780) in 1750 in the county of Isle of Wight Virginia. At lest three of their children, Jacob, John Jr. (c1754-1803), and Sarah Crumpler were born in Virginia or somewhere in between. Note: This John Crumpler is often confused with John Crumpler the son of Matthew Crumpler Sr. and this John was sheriff of Sampson County for several years after 1812. This John died February 23, 1830. This John married Margaret Holmes 1792-1869, daughter of Archibald Holmes of Cumberland Co. NC in 1806. This John has a large family and lived near the other Crumpler Mill three miles north of Salemburg NC. Meanwhile John Jr. got 230 acres of land from his father�s 1782 will. John Jr., apparently married about this time. There is nothing documented but he must have married the daughter of Joseph Blackman. To this marriage were born Blackman Crumpler 1784, Redman 1786, and Bathsheba was born about 1793. His wife was dead before the 1800 Census. John joined Benjamin Phillips in a partnership and established the firm of Crumpler and Phillips. They operated a county store near Bear Skin and likely the first store in that area. The following items were available in the store: Dutch blankets, Dutch ovens, sizzars, knives and forks, cotton stockings, thread, gloves, calico, gingham and corduroy cloth, linen, spelling books, tea pots, hair ribbons, dictionaries, testaments, trunks, combs, fish hooks, pearl buttons, ear bobs, and files. The following persons had accounts in the store: John Bennett, Mourning Bennett, Bedreddon Carraway Sr., Larry Coor, John Crumpler, John Faircloth Sr., Rezin Faircloth, Elijah Gainey, John Hair, Edmund, Hawley, John Honeycutt, Mary Johnston, Sarah Newman, Thomas Manuel, Willie Mobley, Elenor McIllwinnen, John McIllwinnen, Duncan McPhail, Peter O�Quinn, Robert Reynolds, Biggers Royal, Larry Royal, Reason Royal, Young Royal, John W. Turner, Jonathan Whitney, Fanny W. Wise, and John Wrench. This John also likely was the first to operate the Crumpler mill that still stands near Bear Skin on the old Stacy Crumpler place. Living near Jr. was another John Crumpler, he was the son of Jacob Crumpler and was living with Daniel Wooten in 1850. This John was born c1770, and was a Baptist Minister.