Reader Caution: Unless y’all are fans of grits and red eye gravy, cornbread, hush puppies and sweet tea all served up with a healthy dose of Americana, southern-style that is, like Piggly-Wiggly’s and Brew-Thru’s, Beach Music and shagging, Blockade Runners (historical-kind and those over ice), collard greens, country-style steak, and Carolina pulled pork, The Citadel and Azalea festivals, then bless your heart, this story is definitely not for you! All kidding aside, now sit up straight and make your Mama proud and listen closely ’cause the historical links between France and the State of North Carolina have always been strong and endure to this very day. 

According to the Wilmington Star News, the body was found almost by accident. An out of state driver blew a rear tire and coasted to a stop on the roadside in the direction of the Town of Minsville. The newspaper, citing the police report,  noted that had the driver not stepped out of his car and walked in the direction of a line of trees, he would have most surely missed the crumpled body lying in a shallow ditch with a blue baseball cap, garage overalls and a face severely bludgeoned beyond recognition.

The sleepy town of Minsville, North Carolina lies just off US Rt. 40 and the Shiloh Road, between the towns of Watha and Ivanho. If you’re too busy studying your road map, texting or just plain speeding to get to the beach, well chances are awfully good you’d miss the well worn sign for Historic Minsville, Est. 1768, population 1,040 and just under that another sign “Gas up now! Next station 50 miles.” Minsville found its place in history long ago as the birthplace of one Jeremiah Paxton, son of the Confederacy and well known marauder who, with his rag-tag mounted company of  rebels had repeatedly and successfully bushwhacked the Union column on their approach to the City of Wilmington. Paxton’s hit and run tactics were effective but as a leader he was considered ruthless and downright mean and that was the opinion of his own men. The Union troops had a sizable purse on his head, dead or alive and Paxton’s luck eventually ran out when he was captured in March 1865 by Colonel Henry Hudson Mason of New Hampshire. Paxton’s location had come to Mason’s attention thanks in large part to a carefully developed local informant from Paxton’s hometown of Minsville. Just who provided the information and why  remains a shrouded mystery to this day with speculation ranging from revenge and greed to unrequited love. History books will detail the fact that Paxon and his band of rebels soon found themselves surrounded by overwhelming forces and following a heavy exchange of gun fire, surrendered. On the orders of Commanding General Henry Slocum, there were to be no prisoners. Colonel Mason, however personally took Paxon and three of his senior officers into town and where they were hung from a large American Chestnut tree that hovered over Minsville’s beautiful town square. On Mason’s orders,  the bodies were left there to hang under the punishing Carolina sun until such time as Mason and his troops left. Their bloated, putrid remains were buried behind the First Baptist church in the little graveyard under an old Magnolia tree. 

Years later, the proud citizens of Minsville unanimously decided on a statue to commemorate their local hero, Jeremiah Paxton who had fought so valiently against the invading Union army. And so a statue was duly commissioned and errected in the town square. It was impressive statue. There was  Paxton, his sabre held high, almost defiantly, and mounted on a horse with its forelegs raised high in the air. Etched in marble was Paxon’s name surrounded by oak leaf clusters with the inscription “Weep, for Richer Blood Was Never Shed, from the grateful citizens of Minsville, North Carolina 1885.”  It was a fitting tribute indeed for Minsville’s local hero, like so many others,  many had fought and perished in that epic and bloody war between the states.

History is deeply rooted in the South and folks from these parts take their heritage seriously and no more so than in the little town of Minsville. Every year in May, for as long as the oldest resident can recall, that would be Mr. Jameston now ninety-two, Minsville has celebrated it’s proud heritage and of course their favorite son, with a fine parade up Paxton Street starting from one end, by the old abandoned pickle factory and ending at the statue of Jeremiah Paxton, the town square and nearby City Hall. Mayor Earl Henderson has been the Grand Marshall and has led the parade for the last twenty years; he has no plans on stepping down any time soon. The Mayor or Earl Henderson, when he’s not busily officiating as the honorable town mayor, runs Earl’s Garage and Towing Service which is right on the edge of town and like the sign says, the one he personally put out on the road, “Gas up now! Next station 50 miles.” But with the new highway, any out of towners in Minsville are either lost or looking for a gas station.

If you took part in the parade honoring Paxton, then there’s a good chance by the time you reached the town square you would have seen just about everything there was to see in Minsville. The barber shop is there facing the square but its red and white barber pole has stopped turning long ago. You can still get a haircut but with some advance notice, in fact all you have to do is stop in at “Doc” Johnson’s Drug Store and Malt Shop and if Doc’s not too busy yakking someones’ ear off, he will tell whoever is at the counter enjoying a malt that he’d be right back and would personally escort you to his barber shop, slap his hand on the well worn, cracked leather barber chair and tell you, as he has for so many years “now young man, you just sit right here and tell me how short you want that crew cut.” Everyone’s a young man to Doc it doesn’t really matter what age. Truth be told, no one really knows why they even call him “Doc” he’s certainly not on anyone’s emergency speed dial but aside from that little medical “detail” and one that’s often overlooked, “Doc” dispenses everything from homespun medical advice, aspirin, Alka-Seltzer and Pepto-Bismol to boot shine, shoe laces, hair pomade and lady’s hairnets. 

One thing’s for sure, “Doc” can fix one of the finest milkshakes this side of Mason Dixon line. He will be the first to tell you about the time when people would lined up outside his drug store, on a hot summer day, just to sit at his counter for a malt, milkshake or an ice cream soda. Behind the counter are his two Sealtest ice cream freezers containing those familiar varieties: vanilla, cheery-vanilla, butter pecan, chocolate and maybe a sherbet or two but its a rare event when that happens. No need to get too fancy. What worked well thirty years ago, should work just as well the next thirty. Ask for a vanilla malt, one of my personal favorites, and “Doc” will talk your ear off as he scoops out the ice cream from a frozen tub and into the shaker along with a casually dispensed amount of  malt. He will pour the delicious frozen mixture into a large glass and set the shaker next to you. It’s a meal in itself. This is something he’s been doing for years, just like his father. Word of caution, if you happen to be a stranger in these parts, and find yourself at his counter, do yourself a real favor and order up a shake and you won’t be disappointed but expect to be asked twenty questions, after all you’re a stranger in town and Minsville doesn’t get too many of those.

The Roxy Theater has been closed now for some time, no one’s really quite sure just how long. Most people can recall there being lines around the block for blockbuster movies like Gone With The Wind or  maybe Ben-Hur. Beyond that, well memories seem to fade. There’s still a ratty chair in the ticket booth as if waiting for the next matinee and the arrival of the lone attendant. Inside, the rows of moth-eaten, red velveteen chairs with their  sinking seats are somehow still there,bolted to the floor, forever. The ornate ceiling seems to be holding for the moment despite falling paint chips around a large stain.  The city was going to look into it at some point.  The Mayor, blessed with one bright idea, formed an official town committee to evaluate options for the Roxy. Members included Earl, aka the Mayor, “Doc” and “Little ” Johnny Marsden. In fact they even went so far as to convince a well known architect to come over from Wilmington to present his design ideas for renovating the theater, perhaps as a community center. Well nothing happened after the first two meetings not even the architect’s promised payment. The whole idea just died down quietly, like a lot of things. It was surely a good idea but time had overtaken the town of Minsville.  

Across the street from the Roxy is Marsden’s Grocery Store; it’s one of those places that has never really changed, you know the kind I mean with its painted, peeling grey steps, green swinging screen doors that slam shut and that unmistakable smell, a combination of ripening fruit and vegetables with the tell-tell smell of an old refrigerator case with it’s failing cooling system. Stepping inside was like stepping  back into history. “Little” Johnny Marsden, now well into his seventies, runs the store on regular hours, six days a week just like his father and grandfather before him. Marsden’s still has an soda pop dispenser in the corner with a dusty case of Coca Cola empties sitting on top waiting for the next to never pickup; “I called the company in Atlanta myself” Marsden would tell inquiring customers “told me they’d be here with a delivery just as soon as they could.” Over by the ornate antique register is a dusty glass case with a crack that’s been there for years, once taped over as a safety precaution now the paper is curled and yellowed. Inside the case right on the top shelf you can find a selection of King Edward Cherry Wood Tipped cigars in boxes of five and pipe tobacco in Burley and Cherry Delight both in dusty aged-looking pouches. On the lower shelf, just about knee-high level are jars of hard candy, jawbreakers, rock candy, lemon drops, root beer barrels, licorice shoelaces and more. Everything seems to have been frozen in time as if still waiting for that rush of little boys and girls running up the steps, slamming the screen door and all gathering to stare at the candy case, touching the glass or pointing to their favorites. Who among them will find a few pennies or maybe even a nickel. You gotta share, promise? 

All of “little” Johnny Marsden’s ancestors proudly fought for the Confederacy and he’s more than willing and even eager to show off a few cameos of his ancestors, innocent young faces staring back shyly yet clearly very proud in their dress grey  uniforms with little knowledge of the horrors and butchery that lay ahead for them on the field of battle. Ask “little” Johnny to show you his flag and he will bring out a Confederate battle flag replica, preserved and ready for the next time. Gone but not forgotten.              

Minsville’s town hall was considered the crown jewel, the very definition of antebellum elegance with its ornate columns, lush gardens and perfect view of the fountain in the town square and the monument of Jeremiah Paxton. At one time, folks would actually take the detour getting off the interstate to gawk like tourists and snap pictures. The town hall was constructed originally as a residence in the early 1800’s  by a well respected doctor for his beloved wife and ten children. Originally a doctor, he soon turned to tar and turpentine and made a fortune. What paintings or historical descriptions that can be found of the grand home depict a graceful three story residence with an ornate cupola, a handsome wrap around porch with large windows that opened out onto the porch like doors. The grounds were beautifully kept with Geraniums, Azaleas, Impatiens, Dogwoods, and Begonias all adding grace and southern charm to a beautiful home. All as it should be.

Today, the stately home now known as the Minsville Municipal Town Hall has seen better days. That’s the charitable description. The mayor, his wife and family of three boys and two hunting dogs live on the first and second floors as the third floor is no longer structurally sound nor for that matter is the cupola. Last year one of the mayor’s boys climbed up into the cupola and crashed right down to the floor below breaking his leg in two places and just about scaring everybody half-to-death. It was a while before the nearest paramedic could even get there, though one story is told that the City of Minsville just never made it on to the county’s new digitized maps and the paramedics had to stop at least once and ask for directions. Outside by the gardens is smaller structure once believed to have been the slave quarters but now used as an off site storage facility and equipment repair for Earl’s Garage. What was once a garden overflowing with multicolored flowers has been dutifully replaced with a simple public vegetable garden courtesy of the Mayor of Minsville.  It was a well meant gesture from the mayor’s wife and all the citizens were welcome to plant and share but there was little evidence of any plantings in that rock-hard Carolina dirt.   

Just down the road is the Stars ‘n Bars Family Eatery. That would be Miss Edson’s place, the most recent owner and a proud daughter of the Confederacy so she claims, and eager to show anyone who would even doubt her lineage with faded pictures of herself as a little girl standing in front of an ornate iron fence surrounding a stately antebellum home remarkably similar to pictures of the Minsville’s mansion/town hall. She can even show you a picture of her grand mama as a child sitting on the lap of an aged, white bearded  Confederate veteran.  The eatery has gone through a number of changes from being a rooming house in the 1800’s and serving as staff headquarters for Colonel Mason during the Jeremiah Paxton episode. It had been a pool hall, then a speak-easy, rooming house with a bar on the first floor, eventually becoming a family eatery.  These days, the Stars ‘n Bars Family Eatery is only open on weekends serving one sitting at 7PM. The menu items are few but it’s genuine southern-style with beaten biscuits, collard greens, ham or chicken fried steak and gravy, sides of grits, okra and black-eyed peas and of course, bread pudding, all washed down with sweet tea served in faded red plastic pitchers.  

The Wilmington Star News followed-up on an earlier reported story of a body found lying in the shallow ditch off U.S. 40. The body was identified as belonging to a Jack Paxton, a vagrant of no fixed address. Earl Henderson, long time mayor of Minsville confessed to the brutal slaying of Jack Paxton and is now waiting sentencing in the District Court for New Hanover County. No family has come forth to claim the body. According to a police statement, the deceased had been working as a grease monkey at Earl’s Garage and Towing Service and sleeping in a garage shed behind the town hall.  

The Town of Minsville is currently looking for a new mayor.  “Little” Johnny Marsden is considering the position.  

Things don’t change much down here.