Although Native Americans inhabited parts of Tyrrell County in the 

 1 500s, there is no recorded mention of the Alligator community until 

 the 1 800s when new homes appeared, according to BridgingGenerations 

 through Tyrrell County Memories by Virginia C. Haire, Lillian D. Hill, Madge L. 

 Van Home and Gwen A. White. 



"Gum Neck, Alligator, and other communities near the water grew," 

 according to the publication. 



From the late 1 800s through the 1 950s, many in the Alligator com- 

 munity rotated how they made a living by the season, according to Al 

 Hollis, who grew up in Fort Landing. 



"In the fall, everyone participated in the hog killings," says Hollis. 

 "The men started the preparations around 5 a.m.," he explains. "Then 

 the men would cut up the meat. The women would wrap the meat in wax 

 paper. People came from all over the community and helped." 



The highlight was the big dinner that culminated the raising of hogs, 

 he adds. 



When leaves began falling from trees, women would get together 

 and rake yards, according to Hollis. And along the great shoals of the Al- 

 ligator River, men would set their nets. 



"There would be four or five groups at a time, and they would cook 

 fish," adds Hollis. "This is how they fed the family." 



During the winter, Hollis says his family tended to the livestock, and 

 his grandfather trapped bears and racoons. 



When spring arrived, the family got the fields ready to plant. "During 

 the summers, we worked from sunup to sundown in the Irish potato fields," 

 says Hollis. "There would be a crew of 80 to 1 00 digging potatoes by hand." 



Because of the vast stretches of forests, many in Alligator also 

 worked at lumber mills until the early 1 940s. 



Hollis remembers his father's stories about working at a sawmill. 

 After the workers cut the timber, they would take it to the edge of the 

 Alligator River, then float the lumber on a skidder to the mill, he says. 



When lumbering, farming, trapping and fishing began to dwindle, 

 Alligator residents looked for jobs outside the county, or moved to other 

 communities, says Hollis. 



"Fort Landing used to be a big neighborhood in the late '50s," he 

 says. "When I was a child, there were about 50 families. Now, we have 

 about 20 families." 



He estimates that two-thirds of the people who stayed now go to 

 work at the beach in Dare County, about 40 miles from Columbia. 

 "The other third farm or do other things," adds Hollis. 



ALLIGATOR TOUR 



The Alligator community starts at the marina on the Alligator 

 River off U.S. 64, where a large replica of the Cape Hatteras lighthouse 

 welcomes visitors. 



"Our business is mostly transients traveling the Intracoastal 

 Waterway," says Wanda Pritchett. 



Boaters come from as far away as Africa, England, Switzerland 

 and Canada. They go inside the marina and shop for alligator and 

 lighthouse souvenirs or order a tasty crab cake or fish sandwich. During 

 the peak seasons, they can sample a full-course meal in the back 

 restaurant. 



"Some people make the migration every year," says Wanda 

 Pritchett. "Some make it every three years. It is fun to see some of the 

 same people, and we miss the deceased. One of our favorite captains 

 got killed. It is interesting to see people as they get older." 



To get to the rest of the Alligator community, turn right out of the 

 marina onto U.S. 64 heading west. Follow the highway for about five 

 miles along hardwood swamps and marshes toward Columbia. 



When approaching Old U.S. 64, turn right onto a two-way flat 

 road that leads to the north side of the Alligator community. The first 

 landmark is St. John's Baptist Church, a small, unmarked white church 

 with a steel bell. Across the road is a group of mobile homes. Further 

 down, muddy marshes extend along both sides of the road for miles. 



After a long open space, there is a sign that reads: Captain Neill's 

 Seafood. On the dock, a large number of crab pots are stacked up. 



The road continues past a large plowed field and more homes. 

 Then a narrow bridge crosses over Alligator Creek. At the end of the 

 creek more homes are erected on stilts. Knotts lived on the creek as a 

 child with her grandparents. 



"We had to take a boat to go everywhere," says Knotts. "When I 

 went to school, I went on the boat to Fort Landing and then took a bus 

 to school." 



14 AUTUMN 2004 



