She flung herself into a controversy that has repeated 

 itself up and down the North Carolina coast for the past 

 decade. It was tradition vs. change. 



And Lena won. 



In December, after a series of denied construction per- 

 mits, the developer sold half the island to the N.C. 

 Nature Conservancy and gave the conservancy an option 

 to buy the remainder. In February, the N.C. Council of 

 State approved the purchase of the conservancy's half of 

 the island. 



The state plans to preserve Permuda Island for 

 teaching and laboratory work. 



Lena's reward for her four-year struggle was more than 

 seeing Permuda Island safe from development. 



In November, the Z. Smith Reynolds Foundation 

 awarded her one of three Nancy Susan Reynolds Awards. 

 She received a $5,000 personal award and $20,000 for 

 charitable contributions, which she donated to the N.C. 

 Coastal Federation and to two local volunteer fire 

 departments. 



These days Lena would still rather talk about fishing 

 than anything else. But you're just as likely to hear her 

 discuss zoning issues, primary estuarine nurseries and 

 stormwater runoff. 



"I'm not opposed to development," she says. "I just 

 want it done in a safe manner 



"The only attraction we've got to outside money is that 

 water People don't come down here to look at our 

 woods. If we want them to keep coming, we've got to take 

 care of our water;" Lena says. 



She is sifting through a clutter of scrapbooks, photo 

 albums and a foot-high pile of newspaper clippings yet to 

 be filed. The collection chronicles Lena's crusade to save 

 Permuda Island. 



"You work for four years, frustrated, aggravated, people 

 staring down their noses at you. And then you get one 

 phone call, and it's all over;" Lena says, her ever-present 

 cigarette filling the room with smoke. 



At first, the high school graduate seemed an unlikely 



candidate for the job she took on. But the article in the 

 newspaper scared Lena into action. 



She wrote a letter to the editor and got the shellfish 

 leaseholders around Permuda to sign it. 



Then she called the reporter who had written the 

 article and said, "Please get on the other side of the 

 creek and find out what's going on." 



The reporter agreed, and within 45 minutes, Lena had 

 rounded up 17 fishermen to meet him in her living room. 



She had managed to light a fire under folks not known 

 for being joiners. 



But they did join the fight. Over 200 fishermen banded 

 together to call themselves the Stump Sound Shellfisher- 

 men Coalition. 



"It was truly a grassroots movement, and people who 

 were going to be affected really got behind it," says Todd 

 Miller, executive director of the N.C. Coastal Federation. 



"Lena is just a fireball. She doesn't admit to being able 

 to arouse people. But she has an ability to stand up and 

 speak for what she believes in. It's a natural leadership 

 ability that she possesses," Miller says. 



The coalition held bake sales, yard sales and auctions. 

 They built a 16-foot wooden skiff, christened it the Per- 

 muda I, and sold raffle tickets for $5 apiece. With the 

 money they raised, the coalition hired a lawyer to argue 

 their case. 



In her 1973 Chevrolet, Lena attended more public 

 hearings and planning board meetings than she can 

 remember 



"I've ridden to Raleigh in everything from a chartered 

 bus to a pickup truck to a Cadillac. If my car wouldn't 

 make it, a neighbor would take me," she says. 



To help pay some of her costs, Lena took a job making 

 boxes at a nearby factory. But every minute she spends 

 inside, she hears the waters of Stump Sound calling. 



"Sometimes when I'm in there, I just want to take my 

 elbows and push the walls out. I like to be free and on 

 the waten" she says. 



Even with all the organization, the coalition didn't win 

 all the skirmishes in the battle. In fact, sometimes it 

 seemed that everything was against them, Lena says. 



Most of the county commissioners were sympathetic 

 with the developer But when the N.C. Division of Coastal 

 Management refused to issue a construction permit in 

 1985, the owner sold the island to another developer 



The victory was temporary. 



The new developer announced plans for another hous- 

 ing development. 



In September 1986, the state denied him construction 

 permits. 



But Lena didn't feel victorious until she got a call from 

 the director of the Nature Conservancy. 



Lena's battle was over, and Permuda Island was safe. 



"But how many more Permuda Islands are there up 

 and down the coast?" Lena says. "Our heritage, our 

 culture, our environment, our clean water— it's not for 

 sale at no price. I tell people, 'Don't sit down and let 'em 

 take it away from you.' " • 



