Local group preserving area’s rich history

By Susan Lyons

“Born heres” and ”brung heres” alike crowded into Millville Town Hall last week to hear Norman Justice’s recollections of his childhood growing up in the Millville/Ocean View area. Most of you would know Norman by the beautiful trunks he sells on Cedar Neck Road. In fact, our own Dick Rossé interviewed him not long ago for our paper.

The event was hosted by the new Ocean View Historical Society. For the “born heres,” it brought together lifelong citizens to sit back and spend an hour remembering how life in Millville, Ocean View and Cedar Neck was in the 1920s and ’30s. For the “brung heres,” it provided an oral history of the area they now call home.

For whatever reason you attended, it gave you a chance to learn or remember a different way of life; a life that was simple, a people that worked hard and had very little, and an area that was pristine.

I say that because it was, even for me growing up on Cedar Neck in the late ’50s, ’60s and ’70s. And the trip down memory lane got me reminiscing about my childhood here. You knew everyone, but more importantly, everyone knew you. As a kid, you couldn’t get into too much trouble because if anyone found out, they would call your parents.

“Aren’t you Bill Cobb’s daughter?” How many times did I hear that growing up? Couldn’t tell you… But it made me conscious of what I was doing, and who was watching me do it.

Most people didn’t have a whole lot, but I don’t remember ever really being without anything. You didn’t really need a lot as a child then. I had my bike, my trusty pogo stick (I was quite good at that), bat, ball, glove and basketball. Was never really into dolls too much; played outside almost all of the time, no matter the time of year. Built forts, played hide and seek in corn fields or explored every inch of Cedar Neck on my bike with friends.

We did a lot of things as a family. We visited friends on Friday or Saturday nights. The parents would play cards and the kids would make their own fun. Dad had an old Jeep, and we would drive on the beach to fish and have a picnic dinner.

As I looked around the room last week, I noticed that about half of the room was filled with people that I have known for my entire life, and I found myself piecing together different relationships of those in that room. Who was related, who grew up together and who were about the same age. Connecting all the dots, so to speak.

Having lived my entire life here, it is a joke around the office that I know everybody and their phone number. No need to look in the phone book or Google it, just ask Susan, she’ll know. Well, maybe about 75 percent of the time I’ll know. But it’s getting harder, because now there are more people who have moved here from somewhere else than who were born here.

Now, I’m not saying that’s a bad thing, but it does make things different.

And that is where the Historical Society comes in. This all-volunteer group of “born heres” and “brung heres” is working really hard to document and preserve the stories, the photos and the articles of this area before they are lost.

We have done a pretty good job at some of the changes growth has brought to this area, but one of the areas we have failed in is taking care of our history. We have torn down most of the oldest homes in the area for bigger, newer ones and many of the older landmarks have been destroyed. And every time one of our older citizens passes away, we lose those stories and memories that they could have shared with us if we had only taken the time to listen to them or write them down.

This group is still in its infant stages, but with our help they will succeed in building a museum that will keep our history with us for generations to come. They need your financial donations and items for the museum to donate or loan.

Pull together for this effort. You’ll be thankful later that you did.