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“PIZ ZA! PIZ ZA! PIZ ZA!” Paddling the Roanoke

GRRRR and I paddled the Roanoke River last month [May 20-26] from Weldon to Plymouth, N.C., or, to put it another way, from just east of I-95 to just west of Swan Bay and the Albemarle Sound – about 113 miles.

And, right off the bat, I want answer the question I’m most often asked when I go backpacking or river running: Did you have fun?

Yes!

After I paddled the Neuse River with Mike Johnson in June last year, I didn’t say “Yes!” to that question. When I posted a story about that trip I said, “Define fun.”

And then I wrote:

“The 225-mile trip from Raleigh to Oriental, where the Neuse empties into the Pamlico Sound, was beautiful, interesting, challenging.  I learned stuff — I almost learned how to paddle a kayak.  I met some terrific people.  I made good memories.  I’m glad I went.  Everything doesn’t have to be ‘fun.'”

GRRRR, L, and Lucky, at Plymouth, N.C.
GRRRR, L, and Lucky, at Plymouth, N.C., the end of the trip.

The Roanoke trip was beautiful and interesting, too. I learned stuff. I met some terrific people. I made good memories – and I’m glad I went. I also had fun.

One big reason is that, except for one day when GRRRR and I paddled almost all day in the rain and part of that day in a blinding rain, this trip, while it had its moments, was not nearly so tough mentally or physically.

Are You Interested in Paddling the Roanoke?

What follows is not a blow by blow description of the trip, just some observations and advice for folks who might be interested in paddling all or part of the Roanoke.

When the mosquitoes swarmed us we put on head nets.
When the mosquitoes swarmed us, GRRRR, L, and I put on head nets. The goo on my chin is proof, I guess, that I tried to eat without lifting my net.

A good trip starts with a good partner and I’ve been blessed twice. Mike Johnson stood up to everything the Neuse threw at us and GRRRR was the same on the Roanoke. He and I got our share of rain, and then some; a few blisters; and, one evening, a gazillion mosquitoes, but it was mostly a hoot.

GRRRR?

Well, yea, he’s a backpacker who has hiked almost 1,800 miles of the Appalachian Trail. [His real name is Karl Smith, from Vernon, CT. He is 70 years old. I was 74 back in May.] I met him at the Telephone Pioneers Shelter in northern New York two years ago. I was hiking to Maine; GRRRR was section hiking, trying out a knee replacement. He blew out a knee when he attempted a thru-hike of the A.T. in 2013.

[My trail name is “Lucky.” Before I started my thru-hike several friends told me that I was fortunate to have the health to try and a wife who said “Yes”. I didn’t think “Fortunate” had much of a ring to it so I chose “Lucky” for a trail name.]

Here are the two best pieces of advice I have for padding the Roanoke:

  • One, go to the Roanoke River Partners website and study it carefully.  Lots of good information there.  And here is the RRP Facebook page.  You’ll probably want to rent one or more camping platforms from RRP — three of the four platforms we rented were good, no, excellent.

There are places to camp beside the river, but not all that many. The upper part of the Roanoke has high banks, making it hard to land most of the time. You’d have to stand on your kayak or canoe [Good luck!] and start climbing. And the lower part of the river is pretty wet – a lot of swampy areas.

GRRRR baking Irish Griddle Bread at
GRRRR, baking Irish Griddle Bread at The Bluffs Platform.

Roanoke River Partners has constructed camping platforms, some on the river and many others on creeks feeding into the river.  For two people the cost is $25 per night. The Roanoke River Partners website has all the information, and photos.

  • Two, get a GPS. If you don’t have a GPS you’re rarely going to know where you are. There are just not that many landmarks on the Roanoke — bridges, power lines and such. [That’s one of the best parts of this paddle, you’re not going to see a lot of civilization.] Without a GPS you’re going to have a heck of a time locating the platforms you’ve reserved.

Let me say this one more time: TAKE A GPS WITH YOU OR YOU’LL BE SORRY. I don’t think I can say it any plainer than that.

GRRRR and I took our time going down the Roanoke, and we were rewarded for it. We saw a number of bald eagles, including one that glided down right in front of our kayaks, grabbed a fish, and flew back up into the trees.

We had planned to spend six nights and six and a half days on the river, an average just 17 miles a day. That’s a leisurely pace. Mike Johnson and I average a bit over 30 miles a day for the first six days of the Neuse trip. When you’re doing 17 miles a day you don’t have to rush to your kayak or canoe in the morning and you don’t have to swing a paddle all day. You’re done by mid-afternoon. The river level and the current will impact your speed, of course, and that may vary from day to day. On this trip the river was high and we made three to four miles an hour, depending on how energetic we were feeling.

On any backpacking or river trip it’s a good idea to learn as much about the route as possible and plan thoroughly. [GRRRR and I worked on plans for this trip, off and on, for months.] And then, when you get out there, be willing to change your plans on a dime.

This is where we planned to spend each night:

  • Night 1, Tillery Platform, mile 15.54.
  • Night 2, camp by the river, mile 39.58.
  • Night 3, The Bluffs Platform, mile 55.74.
  • Night 4, camp by the river near Ft. Branch, mile 69.31.
  • Night 5, River Landing Platform, Williamston, mile 89.84.
  • Night 6, Cypress Cathedral Platform, mile 104.28

We altered that plan twice after we got on the river.

  • The First Day, when we stopped at Tillery Platform to take a look, a convict from nearby Caledonia Correctional Institution, a state prison farm, drove by on a tractor not 30 feet from the platform. I didn’t like that. We moved on down the river a couple of miles and found a good place to camp in the woods, on the other side the river from the prison.
  • On the Fourth Day it rained, hard. I said to GRRRR, why don’t we go all the way to Williamston this afternoon, get a hot shower, dry clothes – and food. That meant a 34-mile day in the rain. GRRRR thought about that a few minutes and then I heard him chanting, with each stroke: “PIZ ZA! PIZ ZA! PIZ ZA!”

We paddled on to Williamston and ate pizza that night.

River Landing Platform
River Landing Platform

River Landing, where GRRRR and I stayed when we got to Williamston, is the best shelter I have ever seen, and I’ve seen right many, scores, on the Appalachian Trail. There was a flush toilet and hot shower (!) nearby. And there was a lock on the door so we could leave our equipment and walked to restaurants less than a mile away.

That long paddle in the rain put us a day ahead –Brother Dave was scheduled to pick us up in Plymouth at noon on Day 7 – so we took a zero* the next day and stayed at River Landing an extra day and night.

I fished a little that day although I didn’t catch anything.

Walkway leading to Cypress Cathedral Platform
Walkway leading to Cypress Cathedral Platform.

River Landing Platform was a good one, but the platform GRRRR and I liked best was Cypress Cathedral, where we stayed our last night on the Roanoke. Cypress Cathedral is in a swamp, in the middle of nowhere.

It was lovely, serene. A memory.

NOTE:

Carol Shields
Carol Shields

Carol Shields, director for Roanoke River Partners, Inc., could not have been more helpful, answering numerous questions and referring us to Brad Beggs, a veteran river paddler whose tips on where to camp and how to create a personalized map the Roanoke for my i-phone were invaluable.

Brad told me about this website, “How to Create A Custom Google Maps Itinerary And Use It Off Line,” and I did.

[OK, OK. I didn’t. But one of my grandson, Cole J. Stith, did.]

Brad also sent me beautiful pictures of the river.

Carol practically held our hand.

When we got to Williamston, soaked through and through, we couldn’t could get a hot shower at first because the door to the shower was locked and the key wouldn’t work. Carol had given me her cell number told me to call her if we ran into a problem. I considered no hot shower a major problem. I called her. It was in the early evening, after work hours, but Carol called somebody and pretty soon a town employee showed up and unlocked the door.

So is that all?

No. Like I said, we took a zero the next day and, when Carol learned of a release at the dam upstream from Weldon, she drove 30 miles or so to Williamston to warn us.

* Taking “a zero” means you don’t go anywhere, you make no miles.

Coming Monday: Gone Missing – Part 1 of 8

Our Missing Sister Found Us!

Dorothy Hill Dennis, missing from the Stith Family for almost 100 years, has found her birth father – my father – John F. Stith Sr.

Earlier this month I received an email from Jo Dennis, Dorothy’s daughter in law. It began:

“Hello. I’ve been researching my husband’s genealogy for years, trying to solve a mystery, and when I saw your blog story titled “What’s In A Name?” [This is the story.] I knew I had found a legitimate contact who might be able to help.”

John F. Stith and his wife, Allie Amelie Brown
John F. Stith and his wife, Allie Amelie Brown

From the story Jo Dennis told me I knew immediately that the half-sister who had been a Stith Family secret for most of my life had found us.

I was thrilled and I replied immediately, hitting “Send” at 2:57 a.m. Sunday, June 4, my 75th birthday.

“My name is William Foster Stith although I am known as “Pat Stith, ” I began. “My father’s name is John F. Stith Sr. of Birmingham, AL. I am one of Dorothy’s half brothers. Please give Dorothy my warmest regards.”

And then I told Jo about Dad and asked for more information.

At Dorothy’s request, Jo had been searching for Dad for years.

Her email said:

Dorothy as a toddler
My missing half-sister, Dorothy, when she was a toddler

“In 1917, John F. Stith married Allie Amelie Brown (who is my husband’s grandmother) in Birmingham, Alabama. I have a copy of their marriage license, and it is also noted in the family Bible. For the next couple of years, the couple lived with Annie Stein Stith….according to the telephone books from those days.”

Annie Belle Stein Stith was Dad’s mother – my grandmother.

Jo told me that Dorothy, my half-sister, lives in Los Angeles.

“Dorothy will be 97 in September. Physically, she is in perfect health, hale and hearty, but she has pretty significant dementia now, though some family memories emerge, fleetingly, at unexpected times.”

* * *

Dorothy, 8, with her adoptive father, Paul Clifford Hill
Dorothy, 8, with her adoptive father, Paul Clifford Hill

I had discovered Allie Amelie Brown in an old courthouse record book in March of last year when my wife, Donna, and I went to Birmingham to attend the wedding of Jonathan Robert Stith and Casey Alexandra Evans. Amelie Brown was a surprise to me; I had never heard of her. I have six older brothers and sisters; three are still alive. They hadn’t heard of her either.

In March 2016, when Donna and I went to the wedding, we went a day early so I could look for proof of Dad’s marriage to Mary Frances Riley, and the birth certificate of their daughter, Ann Riley Stith, a half sister none of the family had ever met. According to a “history” written by my oldest brother, John, 30 years or so ago, Ms. Riley was Dad’s first wife. My mother, Alice May Cameron, was his second. After my mother died of cancer in 1947 Vergie Mae Winn Gunn became his third wife, or so we thought.

I didn’t find evidence of Dad’s marriage to Ms. Riley. It’s possible that she doesn’t even exist.

Dorothy as a teenager
Dorothy, when she was a teenager

But I did find documents showing that he had married Allie Amelie Brown in 1917, twice, on March 19 and again on Nov. 3. Someone had written “Don’t Publish” across the top of the first marriage certificate which, I was told, meant the marriage had been annulled. Apparently Amelie was underage, 17,  and did not have her parents permission to marry. Dad joined the Alabama National Guard on July 23, 1917 – there was a war going on – and the couple married again in November. He went overseas, to France, in the fall of 1918, landing on the day WWI ended, Nov. 11.

[I recognized Dad’s signature on the marriage certificates. And the final proof: I have a photograph of the couple. Someone had misspelled Amelie’s name, identifying the couple as “John and Amalie.” I thought she was a girlfriend.]

Dorothy, in college at UCLA
Dorothy, in college at UCLA

Jo wrote me: “Amelie was born on Nov. 21, 1900, and she died of cancer on July 24, 1973. Actually, some records say [Amelie was born in] 1899 and others 1901, so I’m not sure. Either way, she still wouldn’t be 18 by the date of her November 3rd marriage, so I’m still not sure what that second wedding was about.”

Their child, Dorothy, was born on Sept. 2, 1920, while Dad was serving a second hitch in the Army.

At some point, we don’t know when, Amelie and John were divorced. Sometime between the end of 1920 and 1922 Amelie and the child, Dorothy, moved to California with Amelie’s mother, Eula Mandeline Young Brown, and Amelie’s seven brothers and one sister.

Amelie married  Paul Clifford Hill, an attorney, on July 30, 1923, and he adopted Dorothy. Amelie and her second husband and their two children, Dorothy and Paul, lived in Los Angeles. When Amelie’s husband retired they moved to Corona Del Mar, a beach community near Newport, California, Jo wrote. Amelie  (1900 – 1973) and Paul (1893-1977) are buried at Forest Lawn Cemetery in Los Angeles.

Dorothy's wedding photograph
Dorothy’s wedding photograph

About 10 years ago, then in her mid-80’s, Dorothy found a paper showing that she had been adopted and that her birth father was “John Stith.”

“Since she only knew Paul Hill as her father, she was stunned,” Jo wrote, and worried that she might have been illegitimate.

A few years later, in 2010, Jo went hunting for John Stith. She found him right away but the documents she saw online did not show he had ever been married to Allie Amelie Brown.  Still, this John Stith was from Birmingham and the John Stith she looking for was from Birmingham.

Coincidence?

Then came the breakthrough. Three or four years ago a relative of Allie Amelie Brown came to visit and brought a family Bible in which Amelie’s mother had recorded births, deaths, and marriages.

“She listed Allie’s [Amelie’s] marriage to John and later her marriage to Paul Hill,” Jo wrote. “Eureka! John Stith was real!”

“I went back to Ancestry.com in earnest and then was able to find the enlistment papers, marriage certificates, and telephone directory entries – Wow.”

So what was Dorothy like, this half-sister the Stiths knew nothing about?

Jo told me:

Craig (L-R), Denny, and Ken Dennis, Dorothy's sons
Dorothy’s son, [L-R) Craig, Denny, and Ken Dennis
“Dorothy was an avid swimmer who competed in high school. She graduated from UCLA and after the war married my father in law, Harold James Dennis Sr. (Hal) and had three boys: My husband, Harold James Dennis Jr. (Denny), Craig Hill Dennis; and Kenneth Charles Dennis (Kenny).”

Denny is 70, Craig is 68 and Kenny is 64.

Jo told me:

“She was an extremely independent and hard-working woman who handled all of the accounting for her husband’s five companies, participated heartily in family skiing and sailing ventures, and along with her sons did virtually all of their own home upkeep, such as sanding, painting, floor refinishing, and gardening. Even now, she eschews any pastimes that her caregivers try to encourage and is always insisting that she needs to ‘work.’”

The work part sounds a lot like Dad.

According to my oldest surviving sister, Jane, who will be 90 in August, my father and mother never spoke of his earlier marriage[s].

Jane said John F. Stith Jr., my oldest brother, found out in 1942, when he was 16 years old, that my Dad had been married before he married my mother.

When the family moved from a house on Hoke Street in East Gadsden, Alabama, to a farm outside of town a teacher at John’s new school said he had seen our mother, she had black hair, and he told John he thought our mother had red hair.

When John got home from school he asked Mother about that, according to Jane, and Mother told him that his Dad had been married before, to a red head.

Dorothy Hill Dennis, 2014
Dorothy Hill Dennis, 2014

Jo told me: “…as long I knew Amelie she always had reddish hair, but of course it was dyed by then, so I’m not sure if it was her natural color or not. And the vintage photos that I have of her are black and white! Dorothy has always had auburn hair – reddish brown – but once again, she has dyed it for years.”

At least three of Dad’s and Mother’s seven children would be kept in the dark about another wife and child until Brother John wrote his family “history” in the mid-1980s, more than 40 years after he learned that Dad had been married before he married our Mother.

John identified Dad’s first wife as Mary Frances Riley and the child as Ann Riley Stith.  Where did John get those names?  I have no idea.  Is there a fourth wife out there somewhere? And another half-sister?

Coming Friday: PIZ ZA! PIZ ZA! PIZ ZA! Paddling the Roanoke