Letters from Kitty Hawk

August 21, 1900

Dear Miss Lancaster,

My name is Nathan Perry, and I am writing to you from the town of Kitty Hawk, North Carolina to tell you that your brother, Adam Lancaster, was found by myself and a few others of the U.S. Life-Saving Service Stations at Kitty Hawk. He is alive, but I must warn you that he is badly injured. From what I can tell, he was aboard a fishing boat that capsized in a storm.

I would normally advise against journeying to Kitty Hawk, as there is no bridge from the mainland and the surrounding waters are treacherous. But Adam has told me that you are his only surviving family and with this in mind, I believe it would be best if you come quickly – just in case.

With Kitty Hawk rather lacking in medical facilities, your brother is presently boarding at my house. It is just myself and my sisters, and if you decide to come, you are welcome to share the room we have cleared for him. In fact, my sisters lobbied me strongly to issue this invitation.

Sincerely,

Nathan Perry

P.S. I have attached a note which Adam dictated. I imagine you are more than familiar with your brother’s optimism, but I have to caution you that he far overstates his well-being. 

Dear Hattie,

If you’ve read Nathan Perry’s letter, you know that I am, somewhat miraculously, alive and on the mend. I’ll keep this short since Nathan has done more than enough for me already. Between saving my life, keeping me company, and writing my post, I may never dig myself out from this mountain of debt. He protests as he writes, but it is the truth.

I am deeply sorry for the scare I must’ve given you. Already it has been weeks since I last wrote; I’m sure you’ll be quite worried by the time this reaches you. Correspondence is slow to come and go from Kitty Hawk, at a frequency of only three times a week or so according to Nathan.

I plan to stay here until I’ve recovered my strength. Adding to my list of debts, Nathan has kindly offered to let me board in his home while I rest. I hope to return home soon, but I have discovered the hard way that it is a fairly dangerous thing to travel the waters about Kitty Hawk.

With love and apologies,

Adam

September 3, 1900

Dear Mr. Perry,

Thank you for your letter, and most especially for your honesty. Thank your sisters for me as well. I will leave for Kitty Hawk tomorrow.

Best,

Henrietta Lancaster

September 3, 1900

Dear Clara,

No doubt as you unfold this letter you are already puzzled by the short reply. I swear, I had pages composed in my head responding to your news of Ruth’s engagement (please tell her I said congratulations!), but I received word today that Adam was in an accident. From what I know, the fishing boat he was working on capsized in a storm about two weeks ago and he was badly hurt. I’m leaving for Kitty Hawk, North Carolina early tomorrow morning to help nurse him back to health. 

I beg your forgiveness for the favor, but the school year is already underway. Would you possibly be able to take over my classes until I return? I know you had planned to put teaching Latin far behind you, but if it’s any reassurance, I can vouch that there is no one as troublesome as that Willie Martin in my (your?) class this year. Please keep me updated.

All my love,

Hattie

P.S. I will be staying with the lifesaver – a title I mean both literally and figuratively, as it happens that he is employed by the government for coastal rescue services, which is how he came to Adam’s assistance – Mr. Nathan Perry. Write to me there.

September 4, 1900

Dear Hattie,

Of course, I’ll take over your teaching for a time – you must go to your brother. I will pray every night for his speedy recovery.

Please write to let me know you made it there safely. How is Adam? How is Kitty Hawk? I’ve never heard of such a place, and it took me ages to find it on a map. I checked four different ones before I found it hiding off the coast in the Outer Banks.

Sending love all the way to Kitty Hawk,

Clara

September 17, 1900

Dear Clara,

I will admit this to you and only you, but the journey here was far more arduous than I’d anticipated. First was the challenge of finding the place – I’m impressed you found Kitty Hawk on any map at all. I wandered Elizabeth City for half a day before I stumbled upon a Mr. Israel Perry (no relation to Nathan, who tells me that this is the most common surname among the residents of Kitty Hawk), born and raised in Kitty Hawk. Mr. Perry kindly agreed to ferry me from Elizabeth City to Point Harbor, and then across Currituck Sound to Kitty Hawk. From the outset I was suspicious of his boat, which looked a complete wreck, but he assured that me he'd safely delivered a Mr. Orville Wright to Kitty Hawk just last week.

In retrospect, I’m shocked that we made it at all – I’ve never seen a boat take on so much water! But Mr. Perry seemed to think this was perfectly normal, just business as usual as he tossed bucket after bucket of seawater over the side and shouted at me to keep bailing. My arms will be sore for days.

Despite all this, I’m very glad to be here in Kitty Hawk. Adam looks in terrible shape, so weak that he was barely able to muster fury, indignation, or even an ill-timed joke when I showed up at his bedside. He coughs all the time which doesn’t help the pain in his ribs, and alternates constantly between being awake, restless, and in pain, or dozing fitfully. He often jolts awake feverish and disoriented.

Besides caring for his health, I worry equally much for his mood, which is as dark as I have ever seen it. Adam is the only one from the fishing boat that was found by the lifesavers, and distracting him from these circumstances is another full-time job. It doesn’t help that there are almost no books to be found in this town. I’m reduced to telling stories from memory or making them up entirely.

But Clara – he has been so well taken care of. This is the best part about Kitty Hawk: the people are so kind and welcoming. I have not been here long, but already I’ve realized that Kitty Hawk is a place without luxuries, instead structured around the maintenance of bare necessities. For example, there is hardly any furniture in Nathan’s house (I am currently sitting on the floor by the cot they’ve set up for Adam), and this scarceness seems to be the norm. Despite this, Nathan and his sisters could not be more generous. 

Nathan’s sisters, by the way, are a delight. The oldest is Anna, who is eighteen and quite industrious, a master at cooking, cleaning, and coaxing all kinds of vegetables to take root in the sandy soil of their garden. Emma is fourteen and very quiet, but she adores Adam and kept him company before I arrived. Last is Margaret, twelve, called Greta for short. She reminds me of you at that age, forever daydreaming and asking questions. I’ve been worried sick about Adam and it took a full day for me to regain enough presence of mind to wonder why these girls weren’t at school. Nathan tells me that children here go to school erratically, only ever three months out of the year.

Nathan himself is a bit reserved, but excellent company. He works as both a lifesaver and a fisherman, which means that he has the most wonderful stories when he can be persuaded to tell them. Further, he is my source on all things Kitty Hawk – when asked how his family ended up in such a place, he replies: “storm and misfortune.” Apparently, his grandfather washed ashore after a shipwreck, same as Adam, and ended up settling. Nathan says that this is true of most families here. Kitty Hawk is a strange, lonely place, and Nathan speaks most longingly of leaving it behind some day. Not just for himself, but for his sisters, especially Greta, who decided the day I arrived that she wants to be a schoolteacher one day.

Anyway, Adam is waking up now, which means I must sign off, but I owe you a million thanks. When I return home, I promise to make you chocolate eclairs whenever you want, not just for special occasions. I will gift you my copy of Jane Austen’s Persuasion, or that purple dress with the lace, or even my favorite red leather Edwardian heels. In short, I will do anything you ask.

All my love and thanks,

Hattie

September 22, 1900

Clara,

I feel rather guilty for all the times growing up when I teased Adam for his inability to sit still. I’ve been here in Kitty Hawk all of a week and already, I’m so restless that I could scream. It turns out that, while caretaking is hard work for a couple hours out of the day (and emotionally draining always), there is also much downtime during which I have little more to do than watch my brother sleep.

Nathan and his sisters are a Godsend – they do their best to keep me company while I keep Adam company. But there’s sand everywhere in Kitty Hawk, and I feel that it has somehow crawled under my skin, leaving me with this restless, itchy mood. It is my biggest worry that I will lose my temper and snap at Nathan or one of the girls – after all that they’ve done for me and Adam, can you imagine?

Apologies for inundating you with letters. How are you? I miss you terribly.

Love,

Hattie

October 3, 1900

Dear Hattie,

Poor Adam – I can’t imagine him being cooped up in bed. Do you remember when we were kids and he ran miles and miles along the James River just for fun?

It doesn’t surprise me that you’re so restless. Anyone would be, but especially you who is forever whittling away at some odd project to keep you busy, whether it’s Latin verbs or ambitious herb gardens or bicycling, writing letters or reading novels. Anyway, Nathan and his sisters sound lovely – tell me more about this mysterious lifesaver of yours!

Regarding your class: I may have to fail Edward out of spite. Simply put, he is rude and thinks far too much of himself. You owe me so many chocolate eclairs.

I’m sorry I don’t have time to write more – I’m doing well, but things are fairly hectic at home right now between my sister marrying rich and my sudden return to teaching. Truthfully, in the two years since I stopped teaching, my Latin has become rather rusty. I study every night to stay up to speed. But please don’t feel guilty! If anything, I’m grateful to have an excuse to escape the tedium of wedding planning. Ruth wants a New Year’s Eve wedding, and it’ll be a ridiculously grand affair.

Give my love to Adam. And keep your shoes, though I’ll gladly accept the dress. Write as often as you can.

Missing you terribly,

Clara

P.S. I’ve enclosed something which I hope will help somewhat with the restlessness. 

October 15, 1900

Dear Clara,

Thank you for the books, and the sympathy. At the post office, I suspected right away what the package was when I picked it up. I unwrapped it right there and cried when I saw that you’d sent Emma and Around the World in Eighty Days – it must’ve cost you a small fortune! I can’t imagine what the postmaster must think of me. Anyway, I now share custody of these treasures with Nathan and his sisters.

Love,

Hattie

P.S. Nathan is wonderful, but you can stop with your teasing – he is a very good friend.

October 20, 1900

Clara,

Nathan was off work yesterday and around lunchtime, when I emerged from Adam’s room, he took one look at me and insisted I get out of the house for a bit.

These days, the most exciting thing happening around Kitty Hawk has to do with two brothers named Wilbur and Orville Wright. Rumor has it they are here in Kitty Hawk to test a flying machine. The general sentiment about town is that they are quite mad, but with an undertone of admiration for their continued persistence. Nathan tells me that their experiments take lessons from birds: they spend hours at the beach staring at gulls and imitating them, turning their arms and wrists at funny angles – like children playing.

Some of the lifesavers, Nathan included, assist in their experiments. He brought me along yesterday to Kill Devil Hills to watch. It was extraordinary, Clara. They fly massive gliders like kites – I think the wingspan must be around twenty feet. Even more extraordinarily, Wilbur Wright proceeded to strap himself in and fly three or four hundred feet in that glider! The brothers brought a camera and diligently photographed it all.

Adam continues to struggle, but he seems more stable now – I’m hopeful the worst has passed. He very much enjoyed my recounting of the Wright brothers' experiments, which gives me an excellent excuse to bother Nathan into taking me back sometime soon. 

Love,

Hattie

November 1, 1900

Dear Clara,

The situation here is much improved! Adam finally has some color back in his face and is moving around the house on his own, though he tires quickly. With Adam increasingly mobile, Nathan has taken it upon himself to show me more of Kitty Hawk. As much as we both want to leave this sandy island town, he claims it has some redeeming factors.

I do love the beach and the post office. The postmaster, Bill Tate, jokes that you and I alone keep him in business. His two little girls, Pauline and Irene, are both in the habit of hugging me around the knees every time I stop by.

As for the beach, it’s simply breathtaking: picture white sands and unending waves and the most beautiful sunsets. Nathan and I have taken to frequenting the one closest to his home after dinner.

How is home? You say not to worry, but I feel terrible for foisting my teaching load upon you. I can only hope your role in Ruth's wedding planning hasn't been too wearisome – it’s just like your sister to plan something needlessly elaborate, isn’t it? 

Sending love from Kitty Hawk,

Hattie

November 4, 1900

Hattie,

And you claim that Kitty Hawk is dull and lonesome! I can hardly picture the flying machine that you’ve described, much less believe it. Is there any chance you can get your hands on one of the photographs? 

Am scribbling this reply under the guise of writing out invitations – Ruth has been a terror. But so, so relieved to hear that Adam is improving. My fingers are crossed to have you home soon. Miss you dearly.

Love,

Clara

November 14, 1900

Dear Clara,

We’re coming home! My friend, I simply cannot wait to see you - I've dearly missed your hugs, your teasing, and your wisdom.

At last, Adam seems healthy enough to make the journey back. Nathan has offered to accompany us home to ensure everyone’s safety. It's funny, now, to think that I couldn’t stand Kitty Hawk when I first arrived. Sand and fish everywhere, and no books in sight - it hardly felt like civilization at all! But I nearly cried saying goodbye to Greta, Anna, and Emma. Even the thought of never seeing Bill Tate again has me a little teary.

I have a confession to make. You have teased me all along about Nathan, but I think you were right, and I am just the last one to see it. How quickly a person can entrench themselves in your life – my heart aches at the thought of saying goodbye.

Still, I am above all so thankful that Adam has recovered. There were certainly moments when it seemed unlikely.

Sending love from Kitty Hawk one last time,

Hattie

November 30, 1900

Dear Nathan,

Thank you again for seeing us home – it was wonderful to have you in Richmond! I only wish you had been able to stay long enough to meet Clara, who has heard so much about you in my letters.

I have already tried (and failed) to articulate my thanks to you in person, and I don’t expect I’ll have any more luck on paper. On top of everything that you did for me and my brother, you made Kitty Hawk seem like home despite the circumstances. Perhaps I disremember, but here the stars seem half as bright as compared to Kitty Hawk; the sunsets dull in comparison. I miss the sound of the ocean, but I miss you more.

Give my love to Anna, Emma, and Greta. 

Yours,

Hattie

December 12, 1900

Dear Hattie,

It was my pleasure. Greta won’t stop talking about visiting you and Adam, and I’m inclined to agree. Kitty Hawk is quiet without you.

You said to me once that Kitty Hawk seemed a world away from home, as foreign as any place on the other side of the Atlantic. That there is even a strange bend to the way us locals talk, unfamiliar words and sayings, like “hoi toide” in place of “high tide.” Did you notice that you slipped into the Kitty Hawk way of speaking in your letter? “Disremember” instead of “forget”?

I wish the Wright brothers had made even more miraculous progress on their flying machine, so I might fly to you now.

Yours,

Nathan