The rivulet, tea-dark and narrow enough to step across, snakes its way through the woods and fields of Onslow County, growing wider, deeper, darker with every raindrop and rill along the way. Over hundreds of thousands of years, the rivulet has traced its 50-mile course through the Coastal Plain until, finally, it has scratched an indelible mark on the landscape and, as the New River, become part of it.
When the river’s surface stills, unbothered by wind or wake, it becomes a blackwater mirror. The sky above and the tree-lined banks appear there, twinned images suspended in silt and tannin. From the headwaters to Jacksonville, past Camp Lejeune and into Onslow Bay, the New River shapes and reflects this place. Ripples may shake these mirrored visions, but they never break apart. And when those ever-faithful waters calm, the picture returns to true.
Once, there were canoes on this river, then sailboats carrying cargo to and fro, then log rafts and steamboats. Today, there are shrimpers, oyster farmers, fishermen, Marines on maneuver. But that’s 10,000 years in 29 words, and Jacksonville has earned more than that.
• • •
Before Europeans arrived, this was a land of sky-scraping trees and turgid river currents. Longleaf pines grew thick inland, bald cypress stood rooted in blackwater, and the river’s silt and sediment left a storybook strata writ in fragments of previous cultures — like a cypress canoe, nearly 40 feet long, that was about 800 years old by the time it was pulled from the silt of the New River in the 1960s.
By 1713, settlers and explorers began to probe the banks of the New River, finding a land of tall trees ideal for shipbuilding and naval stores. They put down roots, planting a community upstream and developing their turpentine orchards. Soon, turpentine, pitch, and lumber flowed downstream, feeding the colony’s hungry shipbuilding industry.
More than 80 years ago, the U.S. Marine Corps chose Onslow County as the site of what would become Camp Lejeune — in part for its location on the New River. Photography courtesy of City of Jacksonville
After the formation of Onslow County in 1734, the seat of government still had no permanent home. It bounced from town to town, hurricanes and fires destroying the courthouse time and again. But at Wantland’s Ferry, town founders at last located the ideal place for a capital. Here, a ferry crossed the New, and the broad bay opened before them. Farms sprang up nearby, and more turpentine orchards, too. Fishermen, shrimpers, and oystermen crowded the coves and marshes, and on the New River, ships carried more cargo; the town was growing.
In the 1840s, as tensions strained the young nation, Wantland’s Ferry was formally recognized and renamed Jacksonville in honor of President Andrew Jackson. Timber camps carved out space in the thick forests, and sailboats intermingled with steamships on the New River. Jacksonville was on its way to thriving.
Then came war.
At the edge of downtown Jacksonville, the Freedom Fountain honors all those who have served our country, especially those who have passed through Onslow County. photograph by VisitNC.com
Unlike nearby coastal cities and inland river towns, Jacksonville survived skirmishes and a brief occupation relatively unscathed. The short battles and naval raids didn’t leave many physical marks. Farms, fields, and wharves demanded labor, and enslaved Africans and African Americans — more than 40 percent of Onslow County’s antebellum population — did much of that work. After the Civil War, Jacksonville, like the rest of the South, struggled to rebuild. Reunited and newly formed families of African Americans tried to enter a society that rejected them, and the populace as a whole reeled from years of war and the loss of so many young men.
Jacksonville, as persistent as the New River, never stopped. Railroads arrived and sent out spur lines to docks and booming timber camps. Sawmills produced tens of thousands of feet of lumber a day, and forests of longleaf pine fell, making room for progress and the future of the town. It stayed like this, growing in fits and starts, with boom years and lean years on the water, with fish camps on the marsh and tourists from away on the beach, with automobiles on the streets. And with war. The Great War touched the town, but the next conflict, World War II, saw Jacksonville change forever.
• • •
The United States Marine Corps was in desperate need of a new base and training facility. Jacksonville was ideal: Plenty of land and materials for the base. Close to the ocean for beachhead assault exercises and endless practice runs for seizing Pacific Island strongholds. In 1941, Marine Barracks New River grew from the forests and lands on Montford Point, moving headquarters across the river to Hadnot Point and earning the name Marine Barracks Camp Lejeune in 1942.
By the end of World War II, Camp Lejeune was the most modern Marine base in the nation, having trained tens of thousands of recruits. Among those were some 20,000 Montford Marines — Black servicemen who endured more than the usual hardships of boot camp but set those injustices aside to serve the nation — and almost 19,000 USMC Women Reservists.
During this era of segregation, Black recruits trained at Montford Point. photograph by Official Marine Corps Photo #5337, Courtesy of The Marine Corps History Divison
With these Marines came families and industry, and Camp Lejeune became the face of Jacksonville. In the postwar boom, the city grew, and with more conflict on the horizon, the importance of Camp Lejeune grew, too. Korea, Vietnam, Panama, Beirut, and constant Cold War readiness all leveraged the resources of Lejeune and Jacksonville. Continued deployments to Iraq and Afghanistan, the development of the United States Marine Forces Special Operations Command (MARSOC) during the War on Terror, and the ever-ready capabilities of the Marines have shaped present-day Jacksonville.
Today, the city is home to some 73,000 residents. Influence from the Marines and their families extends beyond barbershops and military surplus stores. Around town, memorials, plaques, fountains, and monuments tell a story of deep-run patriotic roots. There’s a pride in the people of Jacksonville and in the Marines who trained, served, and still live there, and that pride is pushing into the future. Veterans stay, building businesses and families, adding to the richness of the community and changing the face of the city.
Those faces, their stories, the past and present of Jacksonville — it’s all reflected in the mirror of the New River.
By the 1940s, Marines stationed at Camp Lejeune — named for Gen. John A. Lejeune — were practicing amphibious landings on Onslow Beach. Photography courtesy of National Archives (127-GR-66-A95631)
Click here to read more about the history of Camp Lejeune.
Among the monuments at Lejeune Memorial Gardens are tributes to the Montford Point Marines. photograph by VisitNC.com
Click here read more about attractions that celebrate and honor veterans in Jacksonville.
Tucked into a historic neighborhood, a backyard in Forsyth County holds hundreds of Southern wildflowers collected by one wild flower woman.
John Champlin has traveled across the state — and the nation — in search of hard-to-find spots that serve an unforgettable hot dog. After 11 years, what he’s discovered goes way beyond the bun.
In the early 20th century, textile mill owners sponsored baseball teams, providing entertainment for their employees and nurturing a passion for the game that’s been handed down through generations of North Carolinians.
Our writer reflects on where his love of vinyl began, and how the snap, crackle, and pop of a needle sliding across a turntable will always satisfy his soul.
