THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, May 5, 1996 TAG: 9605020185
SECTION: CAROLINA COAST PAGE: 08 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BY MARY ELLEN RIDDLE
CORRESPONDENT
DATELINE: MANTEO LENGTH: Long : 126 lines
BECAUSE of Hubby Bliven, I recently had an experience I won't soon forget - one steeped in the history of my island home, Roanoke.
It's an experience that marks an important part of our nation's history. It all came from standing in a tiny three-walled space lined with glass cases, filled with the labors of Bliven's passion. And from listening to Bliven himself.
The 49-year-old local explained how he began collecting Roanoke Island artifacts as something to do after church. Bliven has been scouring his native land since he was a young boy, returning home with treasures.
The son of a meat cutter and a Ben Franklin store clerk, the soft-spoken and deliberate Bliven was fascinated by history. In the company of Jimmy Dough, his brother-in-law, he invested much of his youth excavating Civil War artifacts in the northern and western parts of the island from both the land and water.
Now, many years later, he's put together a collection in a building behind the home where he was born and raised, that houses remarkable remnants not only from the Union and Confederate Camps, but also from several wars.
The Roanoke Heritage Gallery and Museum is now open, but Bliven says it's only half complete.
As you enter the exhibit, Bliven makes the quiet and neatly presented display come to life. He explains that he's working in stages, paralleling the many years it took him to collect the contents.
I was instantly drawn to the large collection of multicolored, unbroken bottles. Aqua and green shimmered against shades of amber glass.
``Collectors up north come in and say, `We find millions of bottle parts, but very few whole bottles,' '' Bliven said.
A blob-top soda bottle is marked 1861. It's nestled among Navy pepper bottles, Union mustard bottles, a Leah & Perrins 1820s Worcestershire Sauce bottle, and pepper sauce and pickle bottles decorated with cathedral windows.
In the bottom of the cases are beer bottles and whiskey jugs. Pipe bowls are carefully arranged in rows, as well as button after button. Two showcases flanking this one are filled with vessels of cascading lead bullets, mess kits, medical kits, weapons, barrel tops - all authentic and many dated and lettered.
As I turned to look out the doorway directly behind me that leads to Bliven's frame shop and art gallery, I expected General Burnside to appear. His vision was quickly replaced by sounds of young soldiers scraping the bottom of their metal mess kits. Deep from the belly of the museum a mother wailed, mourning the loss of her first-born to war.
The imagined sound bounced off the freshly painted walls.
Bliven took me on a verbal and visual journey of the days when the ground and water were literally bursting with buried artifacts. He spoke of regular digs and scuba diving adventures that yielded the bulk of the museum's contents. A metal detector aided him.
While gazing at a small cannon ball, I pictured Bliven's head emerging from the sound, shaking water from his dark hair, holding high his prize from an era long past, with an ear-to-ear grin on his boyish face.
You feel good standing amongst Bliven's finds, because he is a stickler for authenticity. And he's hesitant to take in artifacts that folks claim to have found on the island unless he was there when they were retrieved. You can't be too careful in a field rife with charlatans. After all, he invested his youth in this pursuit.
But Bliven has benefitted from the kindness of donors.
One man walked in with a cardboard box that held World War II helmets from Germany, the United States, Britain and France. ``I thanked him and I was excited for three days,'' Bliven said.
He's been given cherished uniforms, flags, dog tags, a box of documents, unopened rations and German medals from soldiers who wore or carried these finds during World War II.
``I'm like any collector,'' Bliven explained.
A visit to Bliven's gallery incites older individuals to share their memories. But having been raised in an era when all I could share were vague feelings of fear and sadness concerning the VietNam War, I was speechless.
We spent an hour and a half reliving Bliven's adventures, something he does on a regular basis with his guests. It's tough some days, especially when he has a lot of framing to do.
It's a thrilling experience to stand in the small space lined with headgear, cannon balls, boots, vests, holsters, canteens, bandages and foot powder tins in the telltale army green color.
Not only are you bombarded with visual elements, but the way Bliven has set up his displays, you are overwhelmed by the humanness of it all.
As my own image was reflected in the glass window, merging with the past, sadness welled. I became acutely aware of the lives that were lost in battle - the young soldiers who camped far from home, and the families and nations affected by such strife - all by making a slow three-quarter turn.
Echoes of cannonball and musket fire filled the whitewashed space. You can taste the era through trappings of camp life, including eating utensils, dehydrated sweet potatoes, cattle bone and clam shells.
It's a strange parallel to the life we live here in Dare County today. And the experience is personalized by the image of Bliven and Dough pawing through the mud, sand and waters, hoping for an intact find.
A common china plate sits in the center display case. There's a crack running down the center of it. You can imagine Bliven pulling it up from the dirt with dark brown earth clinging to it, embedded in hairline fractures that cover its off-white surface.
Was it found broken in two? Actually, this plate was a real history lesson. Bliven said he found one half in an underground trash pit, and did not discover its partner piece until six months later - in a trash heap across the camp from its mate.
While you can't actually touch the materials on display - for preservation's sake - the artifacts come to life regardless. As popularity of the museum grows and the display expands, Bliven will add written explanations of his collection.
You may not always have the chance to speak at length with this collector and history lover as he juggles his framing and art business.
Just let the remnants speak through you. And baby, they say a mouthful! ILLUSTRATION: Staff photo by DREW C. WILSON
Hubby Bliven, 49, began collecting Roanoke Island artifacts as
something to do. Now that collection of remarkable remnants from
several wars is on display.
WHAT & WHERE
What: The Roanoke Heritage Gallery and Museum
Where: 543 Ananias Dare St.
Hours: 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. Monday through Saturday. Call for Sunday
appointments.
Phone: 473-2632.
Admission: Free.
by CNB