crew had frozen to death or been swallowed by the 

 sea. And even today when the temperature drops and 

 the northeast winds begin to howl in Carteret County, 

 folks can be heard saying, "It's gonna get colder than 

 the time the Crissie Wright went ashore." 



After the tragedy for the Crissie Wright, the need 

 for a life-saving station became apparent. A station 

 was begun in 1887 and completed in 1888 on Core 

 Banks. 



With the appraoch of the twentieth century, the 

 Bankers began to see a change in their island environ- 

 ment. Two hurricanes swept across Shackleford and 

 Core Banks in 1878. In 1879, a hurricane packing 

 winds of 168 miles per hour, lashed the North 

 Carolina coast. In a report of the 1879 hurricane, it 

 was written that "on the Outer Banks the storm 

 caused great destruction at Diamond City ..." 



The thick maritime forest, which covered much of 

 Shackleford and Core Banks, began dying from the ef- 

 fects of the storms. The sand began creeping over the 

 dunes and killing much of the underbrush. Soon 

 vegetables refused to grow and the fruit trees began 

 dying. 



In 1897, three more hurricanes hit the coast. But 

 the last straw came in 1899 when a slow-moving 

 August hurricane whirled its way up the Outer Banks, 

 bringing with it 120- to 140-mile-per-hour winds. 

 Several houses along Shackleford Banks were 

 destroyed; others were severely damaged. Many of 

 the Banker's cattle and sheep drowned. 



After this hurricane, many Bankers moved their 

 families, their belongings and their homes, plank by 



The diamond-patterned Cape Lookout Lighthouse 



plank, to Harkers Island and The Promised Land, an 

 area of Morehead City. Yet another hurricane 

 ravaged the banks in October, 1899. Only a few 

 families remained on Shackleford after the 1899 

 hurricanes and all of these would eventually move 



awa y- -Kathy Hart 



A look back at life on the Banks 



Ninety-one-year-old Alan Moore, 

 Uncle Alan to his friends, remembers 

 Diamond City and the communities of 

 Shackleford Banks first hand. Moore 

 was born on Shackleford Banks, three 

 to four miles west of Diamond City. 

 He lived there for twenty years before 

 moving to Harkers Island. 



Moore remembers Diamond City as 

 a tightly clustered group of homes and 

 a few stores. "There were about 35 or 

 40 houses," he says. "You could stand 

 in the door of one house and talk with 

 all of your neighbors." 



A community house was used for 

 church gatherings and school. Nettie 

 Murrill, a Morehead City resident 

 whose family lived on the banks for 

 generations, says school was held for 



three months each year during the 

 summer. There was no resident 

 teacher, minister or doctor. "They 

 doctored with herbs and Indian cure- 

 alls," she says. 



Social life and entertainment were 

 limited, says Lillian Davis, a Harkers 

 Island native. Davis has compiled a 

 local history of Shackleford Banks. 

 During summer the families often 

 walked to the beach on moonlit nights, 

 she writes. The adults talked among 

 themselves, while the children played 

 tag in the surf. On summer Sundays, 

 people came from the mainland to 

 church services and revival meetings. 



Like the pioneers who settled the 

 west, the Bankers survived by learning 

 how to "make do" with what was 



available. And fish and seafood were 

 readily available and free for the tak- 

 ing. The Bankers ate oysters, clams, 

 crabs, mullet and other fish. Shackle- 

 ford women were known as excellent 

 seafood cooks, Davis says. 



Besides seafood, the Bankers had 

 small gardens where they grew collard 

 greens, sweet potatoes, Irish potatoes 

 and onions. They also owned pigs, 

 cows, sheep and goats. 



Marcus Hepburn, a sociologist and 

 former Sea Grant researcher, says the 

 Bankers ate a wide variety of birds and 

 waterfowl. Hepburn spent two years 

 living on Harkers Island, delving into 

 the history and sociology of the island 

 residents. Many islanders told Hep- 

 burn of their family histories, which 



