Visitors make a soundside discovery 

 of whelk egg casings. 



The freshwater pond is a good 

 habitat for bird-watching. 



Hands-on activities are encouraged by the center. 



This is just one way that an island refuge, the envy of so 

 many people, presents special challenges and responsibilities 

 for its caretakers, Morgan says. Being a good steward of the 

 land is something that he thinks about constantly with up to 

 20,000 people visiting the center every year. 



"Living on a barrier island is a neat experience, but you 

 have to do things a different way," Morgan says. "It takes 

 more time and it can be more expensive, but that's OK. That's 

 part of what we're about." 



The Episcopal Diocese of East Carolina was entrusted 

 with its swath of sound-to-sea property 48 years ago by Alice 

 Hoffman, an early conservationist. She donated the land for 

 use as a camp site and conference center. A small beach house 

 was built on the oceanfront in the 1950s, but money wasn't 

 available for the camp until the 1980s. It was then that several 



camps were combined into one and named Trinity Center. 



Today, the staffs sense of stewardship extends into the 

 center's daily operations and long-range plans, Morgan says. 

 It is what prompts them to preserve the maritime forest as 

 much as possible, minimize water usage, teach kids about a 

 salt marsh without allowing them to destroy it, cut back energy 

 consumption, and recognize when to bulldoze an old ocean- 

 front building and not the beach. 



The intent is to live gently and to help visitors make more 

 informed decisions by giving them a better understanding of 

 plants, animals and natural systems, Morgan says. 



This philosophy is part Morgan, part early mission of the 

 Trinity Center's founders. 



Preservation was a priority even in the center's initial 

 design and construction. Buildings were moved two times to 



18 JULY/AUGUST 1997 



