A Year-Round Guide to Franklin and Nantahala

The glow from a crab pot Christmas tree casts a soft light on Emma Rose Guthrie — “Emmer” to most everyone who knows her. Her white hair shines against the

Rosemary and Goat Cheese Strata

The glow from a crab pot Christmas tree casts a soft light on Emma Rose Guthrie — “Emmer” to most everyone who knows her. Her white hair shines against the

The glow from a crab pot Christmas tree casts a soft light on Emma Rose Guthrie — “Emmer” to most everyone who knows her. Her white hair shines against the deep-set tan on her face, and the 500 mini light bulbs reflect in her eyes, twinkling when she moves. Guthrie scoots back in her recliner and adjusts her sweatshirt emblazoned with the letters L O C A L. The recliner, surrounded by photos of her late husband, her children, and her grandchildren, looks like it could swallow the petite frame of the 91-year-old woman proudly born and raised on Harkers Island. When she spryly hops up from the edge of the chair and darts into the kitchen, it’s hard to believe she was born before the island had a bridge, paved roads, or electricity.

Crab pot Christmas tree in Harkers Island

Among the holiday displays on Harkers Island are crab pot Christmas trees — including a 25-foot tree built from 150 working crab pots at the Core Sound Waterfowl Museum & Heritage Center. photograph by Baxter Miller

Emma Rose Guthrie and Della Brooks in Harkers Island

At last year’s lighting of the community tree, Emma Rose Guthrie (left) read a poem alongside Della Brooks, president of the Bring Back the Lights Committee. photograph by Baxter Miller

Guthrie digs through a hutch drawer and hurries back to the living room, clutching a manila folder that’s bursting at the seam. She finds what she’s looking for: her local spin on the lyrics to “Christmas Island” by The Andrews Sisters. She adjusts her glasses and begins to read in her thick and earnest brogue. “Have you ever spent Christmas on Harkers Island? Have you ever hung your stocking on a great big water oak tree? … Have you ever been to Wade Shore and cut down your own Christmas tree? Decorated it with shells that come from the sea?” Guthrie’s love for her place and her people is palpable, as is her love of the holiday season.

That Christmas spirit is a shared bond among Harkers Islanders, one that runs generations deep. Going back to their ancestors on Shackleford Banks, islanders have always loved and celebrated Christmas. In the 1940s and the decades following, Harkers Island earned a reputation for its elaborate Christmas light displays. “It used to be that everybody from all over came to the island to see our Christmas lights,” Guthrie remembers. “Islanders went all out. By Christmas Day, the entire island was lit up.”

But by the early 2000s, that Christmas spirit had waned. Every year, there were fewer lights and more darkness, the story of a changing island. With the fate of Christmas in their hands, locals banded together to reclaim a tradition they were once known for and, in doing so, established a new one, the now-iconic Island Anchor.

• • •

Back when there was only one sand road and boats outnumbered cars, Christmas was one of the most anticipated times on Harkers Island. Gifts were small and simple, but the joy of the season was evident. “Let me tell you, we had wonderful Christmases when we were little,” Guthrie says. “We didn’t have a lot of money, but we were happy. My grandma would make us a baby doll out of a boot sock. Daddy would make the boys a little boat with a string attached to pull up and down the shore. We might have been poor, but we were rich in a lot of ways, I’ll tell you that.”

Back then, Christmas decorations were sparse but meaningful. Guthrie’s family never put a tree up until Christmas Eve. “We’d go along the shore to the cemetery and find a real pretty little cedar tree,” she says. “Daddy bought pancake syrup in gallon buckets, and we’d take one of them empty buckets, fill it full of heavy sand, wrap paper around it to hide the bucket, and stick the tree in it. We’d make paper chains and cut out Santa faces at school. We’d hang oyster shells, clam shells, scallop shells — any little thing we could find — on the tree. Never had any lights.”

Crab pot Christmas Trees and a sign reading Tis the Season in Harkers Island

The Bring Back the Lights Committee decorates Harkers Island with Down East flair: Locally made crab pot Christmas trees look right at home along Back Sound. photograph by Baxter Miller

But in 1939, something was heading across the sound that would change how Harkers Island celebrated Christmas: electricity. “They ran an electric cable from the end of Beaufort and brought the cables underground, under the water, to the island,” Guthrie says. “We got our first lights in 1939. Everybody on the island’s first light bill was two dollars and a half.”

Electricity changed everything on Harkers Island, including Christmas. String lights soon hung on trees, indoors and out. They draped over white picket fences. They outlined round-stern boats. Lights spread from house to house to churchyards and storefronts. “The island was beautiful,” Guthrie says. “At one time, we only had one main road, and there were decorations all along it. Over the years, the lights grew and grew. You’ve never seen so many lights.”

The memory spans generations. Della Brooks, 40-some years Guthrie’s junior, recalls, “When I was growing up, Harkers Island was the place to see Christmas lights. Everybody brought their young’uns over here and rode around. They’d come from Beaufort, Morehead [City], and all of Down East to see our lights.”

But eventually, the Christmas spirit dimmed on Harkers Island. A place once celebrated for its pride in the season grew dark. By the 2000s, the early generations who’d begun the tradition were gone or could no longer climb ladders to string lights. Young people had moved away. More second homeowners bought property on the island and closed their cottages for the winter. “Slowly, everybody’s young’uns got grown, and the tradition of decorating kind of wore off,” Brooks says. “When real estate prices went so high, a lot of the island crowd reluctantly sold their homeplaces and moved.” Those winters, darkness cloaked a place once known for its lights.

Lit giant Christmas tree in Harkers Island

The glowing anchors fill Harkers Island, adorning Christmas trees, yard posts, homes, and more. photograph by Baxter Miller

The current shifted in 2015. In early December, volunteers at the Core Sound Waterfowl Museum & Heritage Center borrowed a trolley and rounded up a group of folks to ride around and look at Christmas lights. But there weren’t many to be found. “It was so dark and dreary on Harkers Island,” Brooks says. “All you’d see were some lights here and there. It wasn’t a thing like it used to be, nowhere near.”

For locals, the night was a reminder of how much Harkers Island had changed in the past decade. Riding along the dark shore that night, a melancholy and deep longing for the memories of Christmases past set in. A spark was stoked: If they didn’t keep their traditions alive, then who would? The group made up their minds to try to bring the lights back to Harkers Island. The next day, they got to work scheduling a meeting.

“We just wanted to try to get the Christmas spirit going again,” Guthrie says. “We wanted to be proud of our little island on Christmas.”

• • •

A small group met at the museum and formed the Bring Back the Lights Committee. There was much to do. The group would need to raise money to purchase decorations, get permission to set up displays, and find volunteers to help. But first, they needed a symbol. An icon to rally around. Something to represent and unite the community. The members tossed out ideas: Maybe a dolphin. How about the lighthouse? Perhaps a Christmas star. Then Guthrie piped up. “What about an anchor?” she said. “That represents our fishing heritage and also that Jesus, who was born on Christmas, is our anchor.”

The committee took a vote, and the symbol passed unanimously. Richard Gillikin, a local boat captain, set about designing an anchor. He worked with Andy Scott, a commercial fisherman and marine fabricator, to bring the vision into production. The pair hashed out a couple of prototypes, and the Island Anchor was born — a handcrafted, three-foot anchor made of marine-grade aluminum.

Harkers Island Boat Harbor at night with a glowing anchor

Each Island Anchor that lights up the docks at Harkers Island Boat Harbor is dedicated to a community member. photograph by Baxter Miller

“Andy only made about 10 anchors the first year, and my family bought four of them,” Brooks says, laughing. “It just took off from there. Matter of fact, when I was putting mine up, I had two people stop to ask where I got it and how they could get one.”

As president of the Bring Back the Lights Committee, Brooks has watched the Island Anchors’ popularity skyrocket. Orders poured into the anchors’ sole retailer, the Core Sound Museum, and Scott couldn’t make them fast enough. The committee’s vision and persistence were working.

Today, anchors wrapped in lights hang from porches, sheds, yard posts, and even in cemeteries, all across the island. But their meaning has grown to represent more than just the holiday season.

Harkers Island hom with resident Katie Amspacher and her golden retriever

Islander Katie Amspacher and her golden retriever, Annie, bask in the cozy glow of their crab pot Christmas trees. photograph by Baxter Miller

In 2018, Hurricane Florence dumped nearly 30 inches of rain on the island and left behind unprecedented damage. With homes devastated, businesses at a standstill, and livelihoods in jeopardy, the Island Anchor took on a new meaning. “The principle of an anchor is that it holds,” Gillikin says. “The rougher the weather gets and the harder it gets pulled, the deeper an anchor digs, the harder it holds. It doesn’t give up.” He pauses. “That’s us on Harkers Island. When times get hard, people stick together. We are anchored in our community and traditions.”

Guthrie agrees. “Our thing is, in spite of the storm, the anchor holds,” she says. During Florence, a tornado tore through her home, destroying nearly everything in its path. She lost almost everything, but her Island Anchor remained steadfast.

• • •

In the wake of Florence, the Island Anchor became a year-round reminder of community resilience. Most locals leave their anchors up throughout the year, often changing the lights depending on the season or holiday. What it represents strikes a chord with other maritime communities, too. The Island Anchor has spread across the bridge to all of Down East and beyond, to sister communities like Hatteras and Ocracoke — where, after Hurricane Dorian, Down East families sponsored anchors to give to the school, churches, and Ocracoke Seafood Company.

Undecorated homes on Harkers Island are now the exception at Christmastime. The Cab and Barbara Ramsey Christmas Decorating Contest adds friendly competition and excitement to the season. Bring Back the Lights volunteers expand the number of areas they decorate each year, and businesses and churches have once again embraced the tradition. A tree lighting and community choir celebration kick off the start of a season that’s capped with an Anchor Drop on New Year’s Eve.

Series of glowing anchors at Harkers Island Boat Dock

With help from the Bring Back the Lights Committee, Harkers Island once again shines bright at Christmastime. photograph by Baxter Miller

Most of all, Bring Back the Lights has brought back a sense of pride anchored in place and community. Come December, at the peak of the bridge heading onto Harkers Island, a glow radiates from the spit of sand. The first sight, the harbor, is lined with Island Anchors dedicated to the local commercial fishing industry. With their net riggings reaching toward a star-studded sky, trawlers are drenched in bright blue light.

Down the road, Guthrie’s anchor still stands where it did before Hurricane Florence — a constant reminder of her resilience, and that of her community. Scott still handcrafts each and every anchor, and the Core Sound Museum fulfills hundreds of orders a year. And Christmas lights, from one end of the island to the other, shine as a testament to what a small group of people — bound by tradition, determination, and a little Christmas cheer — can do together. On Harkers Island, no matter the weather, in good times and bad, the anchor holds.

To purchase an Island Anchor, visit coresound.com/shop-island-anchors.

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This story was published on Nov 25, 2024

Ryan Stancil

Stancil is a writer and photographer based in New Bern.