f
ROM THE LIVING ROOM COUCH, Clark enjoys a beautiful view across Waynick to Banks
Channel. He can sit on his back deck and enjoy the neighborhood.
“That’s another thing about the beach,” he says. “People are so congenial. They’ll stop and talk
about the flowers. Sometimes they’ll come up here and have a beer. It’s a friendly sort of situa-tion.
I enjoy it. I have a good time.”
Clark, a fisherman since he was old enough to hold a rod and reel, walks across the street to
his 20-foot boat docked at his pier. It’s only a few steps from his back door to the beach, where
he can surf fish — although the aches and pains of his age keep him from doing that as much as
he’d like.
The inside of the house is dominated by images. There’s a portrait of Libby over the fireplace,
painted by her sister, Raleigh-based artist Rebecca Patman Chandler. There are his meticulously
kept fishing journals with records of the ones he caught and the ones that got away, complete
with photos. And there are the albums with the old black-and-whites.
He opens one and sees a picture of his parents, George Sr. and Sarah.
“Daddy was in the insurance business, an insurance agent,” he says. “His father was a conductor on
the railroad, and his
father was the governor
of North Carolina
during the first part of
the Civil War. Henry
Toole Clark. Mother
was from Lumberton.
When her nine months
were up, she went
back to Lumberton
to have me. Horace
Baker, the doctor, was
a good friend of her
family. She had me in
Lumberton and then
came right back to
Wilmington and the
beach.”
Another photo
shows a handsome
man in uniform. It’s
his father, who served
in World War I.
“He was in the
Army,” Clark says.
“He never talked
about it. I understand
that is normal for
people that have been
in combat.”
A portrait of George
Clark’s late wife,
Libby, hangs over the
Waynick fireplace.
ALLISON POTTER
34
WBM march 2018