David's Story
David Lawrence was a noble man. Born and raised on
the south'ard shore of Harkers Island among oak trees,
net spreads and wooden skiffs, David Lawrence could
have been just an ordinary man; but he wasn't.
David was born on May 16, 1948, the first born son
of David O. "Robin" Lawrence (October 18, 1923 - March
31, 1990) and Annie Lee Rose (February 28, 1923 -
April 12, 1999). David's father was a strong man,
instilling high standards of expectation and determination.
"Miss Annie Lee" gave him his gentle manner, his creative
beginnings and his love for beautiful things. He and
his brother Kent, shared all the boyhood adventures
of their Island home - a goat named "Cha-Cha," duck
hunting to the Bay, playing in the sound with their
boat "Guess What," and growing up in the safety of
family, friends and church. All this gave David a
foundation for his life that he would never outgrow
or forget.
David's
early years on Harkers Island were filled with all
kinds of happy memories shared by many. Stories of
camping trips taken by Troop 75 are told over and
over. From the smoke clouds of gnats on Shackleford
Banks to the frozen waters of Gales Creek, those Boy
Scouts were friends forever. Everyone in the neighborhood
remembered the Christmas David got a BB gun and how
on his first trip out of the house he shot one of
his cousins. His dad had to do something so he "took
away" the gun and stood it behind the stove. By Christmas
afternoon the plastic stock had melted and that was
the end of the gun. Such was David's luck.
Still, hunting was in his blood and as young as
10 he would "sell bottles" to buy gun shells, a handful
at the time. He and friends would share the gun and
decoys (mended from the older hunters) and spend countless
hours in the scrub oaks on the backside of the Island.
He later "graduated" to the Banks and Middle Marsh,
where cold, wet duck blinds helped ready him for a
life filled with fishing ducks and redheads, reworked
decoys and hunting stories that he told forever. David
loved it and he caused everyone around him to love
it too.
At first, David was hesitant about going to school
and would only make it as far as the school bus steps
where he would sit for the ride to the schoolhouse.
All those who got on after him, had to step around
him, because he couldn't give up his location just
in case he changed his mind and needed to make a quick
exit when the door opened at the next stop. He eventually
adjusted and later "Dave" drove the school bus to
East Carteret High School where he finished in the
first graduating class in 1966. Before he owned his
own car (a used station wagon with an interesting
past), tales of "thumbing from the Beach" along the
dark roads from Beaufort to the Island told of a different
era Down East. But this fun would not last forever,
and David (like the other young men of the County),
found himself "on the bus with Ruby Holland" in route
to Raleigh where he joined the Army Reserve. Life
was changing for David.
Carol and David's romance belonged in a storybook
from the beginning. Starting with a trip to Salt Lake,
David's eye would never turn another way. Memories
of love letters traveling for days cross country tell
of a shy young man and his bride-to-be growing strong
and close for the years ahead. Remembering the sparkle
of a (not so tiny) gold ring on a special Christmas
morning and snapshots from a summer in a dark green
convertible Mustang tell the story of two beautiful
people, so in love then - so in love today. David
and Carol's life together began on December 20, 1967,
and grew closer every day. Theirs is truly a marriage
made in Heaven, growing deeper across the years. With
Julie, born in 1968, Corey in 1970, and "Mama Gertie's"
failing health, David and Carol had many to care for
as they built a home inside the old home place. These
challenges proved to make them stronger and for 33
years their lives were grounded and strengthened by
each other.
David's work as a professional artist began at Cherry
Point at the talented arm of the Island's legendary
sign painter, Samuel Davis. He could see David's potential
on the stern of boats and store signs he had done
for people on the Island. David loved the work. He
learned much and was quickly on his way "up" in this
new career. However, New Year's Day 1975 changed all
that when David's motorcycle clashed with an oncoming
car. At midnight that same night - only hours after
waving Carol and the children standing on the porch,
David was at Duke Hospital with a broken back that
would take years to heal. Those "healing years" were
hard ones - years that taught him patience he would
need some twenty years later when once again his hopes
and plans turned to sickness. Then like later, David's
love for people did not suffer from the isolation.
From his front room hospital bed, he kept "in touch"
with CB radio partners all over the Island and beyond.
He was "Wolfman." "Popsicle," "Clam Chowder," "Egg
Man," "Scoby-Duck" and others were as mu
ch
a part of the healing as the doctors. His CB was to
him then what the Web has been for David and all of
us the past few years.
When David was ready to go back to work, Carol and
David took on "Clarence's Store" as their family business.
However, it was more of a community gathering place
than a business. It was a place where stories were
told over and over and people loved to come and visit.
David made sure that not one "customer" needed anything.
"Miss Eve'r" was one of many who left with pockets
bulging of penny-candy to go with her "Red-Rag bologna"
every day. David and Carol were "too good" for the
mercantile trade and soon after leaving the store,
David burned the overflowing "blue book" (the charge
accounts) in his backyard. Years later, one of those
who had left owing came to pay the bill by reclaiming
her debt and David always appreciated and respected
her for her honesty. David loved "good people."
By now, David's family was growing and his children
were filling his life with much happiness. Julie remembers
special Christmases and a childhood safe in the knowledge
that she was Daddy's special girl and that never changed
- no matter how old she grew to be. Corey's childhood
was filled with the best combination possible of a
loving father that could keep him warm on a dark night
and then take him duck hunting in the cold of a winter
morning. Corey says his father's patience never faltered
no matter how he whined of being cold or tired or
hungry. Hours of preparation and him toting guns,
decoys and a squirming boy-youngun across the high
tides of a January marsh, David would make sure Corey
was happy, even if that meant dragging it all back
to the boat before the first shot was fired. David
loved the feel of Core Sound and made sure Corey learned
to love it too. Corey remembers all the details of
his first hunting trip "to the bridge" at age 8, with
a bright yellow oilskin jacket. From that his love
for hunting and his father grew and grew, and continues
today. What a partnership they were, father and son.
David's love of waterfowling led him to Chincoteague
many years ago. Island families living up there drew
him to that sister Island community. There he learned
of a growing interest in decoy making and people who
would buy them just to "look at them." He began to work
on his own style of traditional decoys with little understanding
of how good his work was. David loved it and the work
loved him. His talent began to surface wherever he went
and over the years would become his life. Today David
is recognized all over the country as one of the finest
waterfowl artists and traditional decoy carvers of NC.
But
David's love for the traditions of waterfowling ran
deeper than the beautiful carvings and paintings he
has given us. He understood with deep appreciation that
those works of art represented his heritage, generations
of people who worked hard to make a living, who grew
to be strong and of great character. David loved "who
he was" and "where he came from." He was truly Down
East and Core Sound at its best and his contributions
to preserving that heritage were many. Beginning with
the founding of the Core Sound Decoy Carvers Guild,
David's work began to gain recognition. Although many
provided the "arms and legs" needed to make the Decoy
Festival a reality, David was the "heart and soul" that
held others to the project. His beautiful, clear lines
of the famed "decoy posters" reflected his simple style
and his honest love for those "pieces of history" that
he so cherished. David's name grew with the success
of the show and the help and support of many. He made
us all proud to be a part of the effort, drawing people
from far and wide that would help make him and the festival
a part of history through the development of the Waterfowl
Museum. David was a charter member of the Board of Directors
for the Waterfowl Museum and even in recent years of
sickness, served to provide inspiration, leadership,
encouragement and guidance. His presentations from the
halls of Washington, DC to Raleigh brought great respect
to the cause as he gave much of himself to make this
dream - his dream - a reality for all of us.
David believed in serving his community and was always
willing to help, many times behind the scenes and without
pay or recognition. Still, his work and his leadership
would shine through. The Carteret County Chapter of
Ducks Unlimited raised thousands of dollars because
of David. He later traveled the country as the "centerpiece"
for Kincaid's Furniture's DU collection. Wherever he
went, he made friends and earned great respect from
all the people he met. At home, he served many years
on the Harkers Island EMC board, garnering one of the
highest votes ever recorded in the coop's 60 year history.
Locally politicians from both parties sought him to
run for office. David was admired by many, never realizing
how important he was to the community in his own special
way.
In 1981, David went to work at the NC State Port. There,
like all the other places, David gained a new circle
of friends that grew to love him. These friends became
lifelong friends that years later have remained faithful.
David left his mark on whomever and whatever he touched,
and that mark never went away. We are all better people
for having spent time with him, no matter how long the
years or how short the visit. David gave his best to
us all and challenged us to do the same. He treated
young and old, rich and poor, famous and unknown with
the same respect and interest. Never once has anyone
felt neglected or overlooked. David valued everything
around him and took the time to enjoy it. He took the
time to stop in junk shops to look for treasures, to
enjoy the old-fashioned taste of an orange-ade, to get
up in the morning and see the sun shining and take the
day to ride. David knew how to live.
David's illness came in the prime of his life and at
the peak of his career. Just as his artwork was going
nationwide, he learned of the liver disease that would
torment him for six years. Still he fought and never
once complained. No one can remember him asking why,
although everyone around him did. He took that challenge
with the same strength of character that he had taken
the broken back years before and used the patience he
learned then to deal with the endless shattered hopes
and setbacks he was to overcome. Never once did his
and Carol's hope fade. They encouraged others in their
steadfast optimism and humble acceptance of what was
to become their life. We will all remember the poem
HE sent to all of us ... "Drinking from the Saucer
of life ... 'cause his cup had overflowed with blessings."
Even this past Christmas, literally a few days between
trips to Chapel Hill, Carol said it was their best Christmas.
That is courage. David was a brave man. He loved life
and fought hard to keep it. The doctor said he had a
heart of iron. We all say his heart was as strong as
it was good - and that was strong enough.
David brought out the best in all of us. David's Day
proved that to be true. From all over the state and
beyond, thousands came to give back to David from the
well of love that he had given us. But once again David
gave to us. In his need, our needs were filled with
the love of friends, the spirit of community, the joy
of giving. The stories of our friendship with David,
of Christmas skiffs and special times gave us all hope.
Everyone who came went home with far more
than they brought. It was a day that reflected David's
life ... bringing people of all kinds, all interests,
all levels together. Carol once said that they didn't
know any unkind people. Surely they didn't, because
David's "light of compassion" was so bright that it
drew the best of people toward him. David loved people
- no matter how they disappointed him, he never once
faltered in his commitment to them. David was a giver
of life. Even in the last minutes, he was caring for
others, needing to know that those he loved most would
be safe when he was gone.
For all the things David loved, he loved his family
most of all. Those grand-babies brought hope and joy
to David when he so needed it. "Little" David was the
reason he got out of bed some days, the reason he had
to push himself no matter how weak he was. His best
medicine was to give "Little Bump" the love and time
he needed.In the last painful days, Madison and Gracey
brought beauty and joy and new life to David and Carol
every day, and they too will be the source of strength
that Carol will need to heal from the pain and suffering
of the past months. "Little David's" response to learning
"G'an'pa" was with Jesus was, "He's all fixed up. He's
better now." With that simple truth, he will lead us
all to rest in the joy of knowing that David's struggles
have ended.
David didn't like sad endings and we will not allow this
to be. His passion for life, his gentle way, his courage,
his humble acceptance of life's troubles, his strength
and his "light of love" will shine forever in each of
us whenever we hear a goose honk over Middle Marsh, or
feel the cold wind of a Core Sound morning, or try to
tell the stories of Chincoteague ...
We will smile between the tears
and remember ... and give thanks for David, who gave
us so much to hold dear.
Sometime
after midnight, in the first peaceful hour of March 19th,
2002, David Lawrence's long struggle to live ended. It
was on a Sunday morning - a day of rest.