THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, May 21, 1995 TAG: 9505210143
SECTION: LOCAL PAGE: B1 EDITION: NORTH CAROLINA
SOURCE: BY PAUL SOUTH, STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: DUCK LENGTH: Medium: 94 lines
North and South met again a few weeks back.
Not on the battlefields of Bull Run or Gettysburg or in the waters off North Carolina, but with a friendly handshake in Dr. Ed North's home overlooking the water in this comfortable north beach community.
Just as the battles of the Civil War were fought to unite a people, Ed North has an idea that might bring together folks whose names are written on the wind.
And on street signs.
And in bridge columns.
North. South. East. West.
Before all you Smiths and Joneses and Midgetts and Etheridges break into a chuckle over our pretensions, lend an ear to the good doctor.
``I don't know how they do it, but somehow, when I'm on the phone, people who don't know me hear my name as `Miller.' How they get Miller from North, I'll never know.''
What Ed North wants to do is not so much about getting folks with a geographical surname a little respect, but instead to celebrate something that makes us all special.
It can be tough having a directional name. From the first day of elementary school, and every first day of school after that, I was called everything from Smith to Soutz to Sooth. To this day, I get correspondence from a high-ranking elected official in Alabama that begins, ``To My Good Friend Paul Soutz.''
I forward that correspondence to family members. And, just as he has forgotten our name, we will forget old what's-his-name every four years.
What North, a 79-year-old retired physician, wants to do through what he calls the International Four Points Society is bring together people with the surname North, South, East or West. And it's not so much a matter of seeking directional correctness.
``We were sitting around the kitchen table having drinks about a year ago,'' North recalled. ``I looked in the phone book . . . and it just seemed logical to get people with the names North, South, East and West together, and just have a party.''
North is quick to tell you that ``Everything happens at the kitchen table.''
He should know. Sitting around a table at the Carolinian Hotel on the evening of Dec. 16, 1958, the eve of the 55th anniversary of the Wright Brothers' first flight, North and a few friends launched ``The Man Will Never Fly Society.'' Their motto? ``Birds fly. Men drink.''
What began as a cocktail hour conversation is now an international organization.
``It used to be that the Wright Brothers' anniversary was just one plane that would fly down here from Washington, go to the Memorial, and then everyone would go to the Carolinian for some boring speeches, and that would be it,'' he recalled. ``We thought the Wright Brothers deserved more than that.''
Ed North's love affair with northeastern North Carolina began shortly after World War II. He and his wife Doris moved to Elizabeth City, where he worked as a general practitioner from 1947 to 1961. Those, he remembered, were the best years of their lives.
``Those were the people years . . . the best years,'' he said. ``My wife is in the hospital there now, and every time we go up there, we run into five or six former patients. We have a love fest every time we go to Elizabeth City.''
North left North Carolina in 1961 to work in corporate medicine for the steel industry. In 1972, he returned to Nags Head, where he served one term on the Nags Head Board of Commissioners. ``Politics was not for me,'' he said.
From 1973 to 1978, North returned to Elizabeth City to set up the emergency medicine program at Albemarle Hospital. ``That was my baby,'' he said.
But aside from medicine, in which the University of Maryland graduate worked for the bulk of his career as an old-fashioned doctor who made house calls and knew his patients by name, Ed North has taken time to make us laugh at ourselves.
Thanks to the good doctor, we can poke good-natured fun at skepticism of those of our ancestors who said that ``If God had meant for man to fly, he'd have given him wings.''
And if North and South and East and West could come together for a party, it's worth pondering the possibilities. Black and white, rich and poor, Republican and Democrat, all coming together to celebrate what binds us, instead of complaining about what divides us.
But for the moment, consider this. On a picturesque Outer Banks Beach, folks gather on Mae West's birthday to feast on Western Omelets, Southern Fried Chicken, and northern bean soup while gazing at a star-studded eastern sky. Off in a pavilion, Tony Bennett sings ``East of the Sun, West of the Moon,'' and at another venue ``West Side Story,'' ``East of Eden'' and ``How The West Was Won'' are part of a triple feature.
Sure, it's just an idea. But in this sometimes taxing existence, a retired doctor has reminded us of Ernest Hemingway's words that life is indeed a movable feast.
You don't have to go in any one direction to find it. And the only compass you need is your heart. by CNB