At about 8:30 am this morning as planned we left Hilton Head Island for the last time. Packed and ready to go.  We had even organized far enough in advance to allow for a ritual breakfast of steel cut oats and fruit before departure. But then it was into the pollen-covered Cadillac and headed north, consumed by an unusual spirit and moderate trepidation concerning both what we were leaving behind and where we were going.  We were to a degree in limbo; there were matters yet unresolved, pending and in suspension.

As we slipped along the open roads over the disappearing seaside marshes there was an unquestionable remorse upon leaving Hilton Head Island. It was a magnificent place, a glory of every elemental sensation, a veritable gem of a find.  But it was a gem which had slipped through our hands back onto the shore and into the sea. We had by the insinuation of unanticipated vapours contaminated the whole. Incrementally the brilliance was dissolving, reducing its median softness to its extravagant poles, eliminating its perfume, polluting its nutrition. Now the island was characterized by that curious impurity known paradoxically as familiarity. Acquaintance had robbed us of our interest and yearning. It was time to go.

From Los Angeles Times
The Trump administration has characterized programs that single out any group for help based on race as illegal discrimination.

Years ago when conducting these repetitive jaunts to and from southern sojourns we learned to amplify the intermediate expedition by limiting the daily passage.  In the result we have transformed an 18-hour journey (if it were non-stop) to three nights and four days on the road.  In the past the adaptation has accommodated massages, swimming, cocktails and dinners.  And once just a prolonged afternoon snooze on a grey day. Today was distinguished by fueling the car, a car wash and then a generous mid-afternoon meal ornamented with ice tea, lemonade, dolce de leche cheesecake sundae and chocolate explosion brownie.

It was swiftly apparent from the moment the door was opened by staff to permit our entrance to the restaurant that Lumberton despite its modest beginnings and currency is oddly cosmopolitan, family oriented and liberally inclined. Aside from the profusion of young families in attendance, there was an equal distinction of communion of races – certainly quite unlike that with which we’re familiar on Hilton Head Island.  The community extended to society of staff and patrons of different races, including obvious inter-racial marriage. But what stood out more than anything was the undeniable familial compatibility of people of varied description. There was an authenticity and magnanimity to the behaviour of the people, between both adults and children. There were no loud voices or sharp replies. It is difficult to imagine that Lumberton, North Carolina is a nesting ground for the narrow minded conservatives and viscous anti-immigrants who so popularly have defined what is purportedly almost half the American population, a slur having especial fluidity in North Carolina where trifling preoccupations with irrelevancy have often predominated the political accounts of congressmen.

We relieved ourselves of this toxic rumination upon seeing burgeoning evidence of springtime in bougainvillaea and lilacs. A hurried call to Apple Music ushered to the cabin speakers an historic and romantic rendition of Ivor Novello’s, “We’ll gather lilacs (in the spring again)”.

Lumberton is a city in Robeson County, North Carolina, United States. As of 2020, its population was 19,025. It is the county seat of Robeson County.

Located in southern North Carolina’s Inner Banks region, Lumberton is located on the Lumber River. It was founded in 1787 by John Willis, an officer in the American Revolution. This was developed as a shipping point for lumber used by the Navy, and logs were guided downriver to Georgetown, South Carolina.

For four seasons, 1947–50, Lumberton fielded a professional minor-league baseball team in the Tobacco State League. Affiliated with the Chicago Cubs, the team was known as the Lumberton Cubs in 1947 and ’48, and the Lumberton Auctioneers in 1949 and ’50.

As of the 2010 United States Census, 21,542 people were living in the city. The racial makeup of the city was 39.0% White, 36.7% Black, 12.7% Native American, 2.4% Asian, 0.1% Pacific Islander, 0.1% from some other race, and 2.2% from two or more races. About 6.7% were Hispanic or Latino of any race.

Ivor Novello by Claude Harris, bromide print, 1920s