Yesterday, I wrote about the Elizabeth City Boy's club and it's influence on my life. Obviously, I have many stories I could tell as do hundreds of other boys. Some years ago, I don't know how many, the club was changed to be the boys and girls club so no doubt there are many stories to be told now by girls as well.
There is another fairly strong connection to me and that particular building. I was quite mortified Thursday when I rode by the building and saw that the corner stone bearing the year 1963 was missing. Behind that stone was a capsule that was placed there when the building was completed. In the capsule were various items to identify the year and the events of that year for posterity. In 1987 the capsule was removed during a 50th year celebration and some things were added and the capsule was returned to the wall and resealed.
That capsule has significance to me because my daddy made it. I actually remember the day daddy came home and told us about the capsule.
Today, I saw it on the front page of the paper. I was very happy to know that someone had retrieved it and they had shared the contents with the current Boys and Girls Club members.
I don't know what the plans are for the capsule itself but I would love to own it. I have a small museum in my office at the church with lots of personal belongings as well as other things I have accumulated over the years.
In that museum is a section dedicated to my father which include two pairs of his old tin snips. I guess it is possible that one of those was used to create this capsule, who knows. I have inquired and hope that I may gain possession of the capsule. If not, I truly hope they display it somewhere for anyone who desires to see it.
It is a simple round box made from metal, I would imagine copper. Nothing fancy or elaborate, just a piece of my daddy's labor that has held a special place in city history for almost 50 years!
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As a newbie in the River City as a rising HS sophomore and an aspiring hoopster the Boys Club played an important role onto my intro into town. I would dribble a ball from Main St. home to there to practice. I had gone to parochial grade schools and would be attending public school for the first time since first grade! I now know that my town in NJ was likely one of the last to use the system called "redlining" - real estate agents settling blacks in surrounding towns. Then to TX where my middle school had a small minority of black school mates. Now I was going to a school 3 years earlier consolidating the segregated HS in town. And playing a sport majority participants were going to be black classmates. So when I started coming to the Boys Club courts there was some curiosity to this newcomer. I mostly practiced individual skills while pick up games were played by regulars. Early on I would say it took me a good 6 months to understand the dialect when someone did speak to me. I did a lot of smiling and nodding of head. I always tried to show boat my skills to draw attention / let those who saw know I was a player.I got asked out of the blue to play a game of 1 on 1. Never considered myself a 1 on 1 guy (defensive limitations) but I was cajoled into it. It was quite a match and it took quite an effort but I came out victorious. Honestly it could be considered a "hustle" if this was pool - I was that good. My opponent was devastated losing in front of his peers who were paying attention. He was good and first two years did not try out for the school team. I thought it might be from the aftermath of the 1 on 1 loss. By senior year he had sprouted at least 8 inches. He was such a valued team member he received a scholarship from ECSU.
That's my favorite memories from the old Boys Club.
That's a great story Drew. I honestly can see you right now dribbling the ball down the street. If I'm correct you did play ball at NHS.
Thanks for reading my blog.
Hope you are well.
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