I have known interesting people in my life, many of whom lived in eastern Wake County. I have lived through changes in this community, not all of which have made life better but all of which make memories. Some of my more interesting memories include:

Avon Privette, Sr., a self-made millionaire who earned his fortune the old-fashioned way – he worked for it! It is difficult to find a person who lived in Avon’s time who will not tell you of at least one instance when Avon gave help. And he helped with few knowing of his generosity.

Avon was unassuming, even though he served several terms as Zebulon’s mayor and held other high offices. He never tried to impress anyone with his appearance, his accomplishments or his money.

I recall one late afternoon when a nattily-dressed gentleman stopped his Cadillac by a gas pump at Phil-Ett Oil Company at the forks of U.S. 64 and U.S. 264 in Zebulon. He stepped from his big car and strode into the service station. “I would like to speak with Mr. Avon Privette,” he announced. “Is he here?”

“Yep,” responded Warren Liles.

“Where may I find him?” the visitor asked.

“He is right out front pumping gas in your Cadillac’s tank,” was the reply.

The gentleman looked out front, and saw Avon, bare-footed and dressed in bib overalls just as he had come from his tobacco fields, calmly holding the hose fueling the car. The visitor was, as the saying goes, speechless.

Then there was Clifton Daniel, son of E.C. Daniel, owner of Zebulon Drug Company. While a student at UNC-Chapel Hill, Clifton (we called him E.C.) wrote a column for The Zebulon Record consisting of short paragraphs giving his thoughts on many things. He separated paragraphs with –ecd— which gave the column’s author more identity than a simple byline. Early on, Clifton expressed his goal of becoming managing editor of The New York Times. Like many local people, he achieved his goal.

Clifton was a suave and sophisticated world traveler, but he never failed to visit every store on Arendell Avenue and renew old acquaintances when he came to visit his family.

Willie B. Hopkins, a man of many titles, is one of my favorite people. As chief of police, Willie B. looked after Zebulon like a mama hen. One hard-working local man, sober as a judge from Sunday through Friday, relaxed on Saturday, and usually by evening found himself too intoxicated to walk the six blocks home. Not to worry. Chief of Police Willie B. loaded him in his car and carried him home to his patient wife.

Remember when radio station WETC was purely a local station? Willie B. was featured in a daily report, and he always began: “It is great to be alive and living in Zebulon, North Carolina!”

Then there was the time when Zebulon, a growing town, had its lawyer draw up a zoning ordinance that restricted the type of building that could be constructed in various areas of the municipality. Despite warnings, Fred Hood built a concrete block building beside his house on North Arendell Avenue to use as a florist shop. The town finally decided legal action was required to stop this law-breaking.

J. Harold Griffin, a fine-looking Wendell lawyer, asked to appear before the Zebulon Board of Commissioners to speak for Fred Hood. He was granted permission.

“Gentlemen,” he addressed the commissioners at their next meeting, “I am sorry to inform you that you do not having a zoning ordinance.”

Mayor R. H. Bridgers, Town Manager Willie B. and all five commissioners responded with blank stares. “What do you mean?” lawyer Griffin was asked.

“The proposed ordinance plainly says in the last paragraph that it becomes effective when it is published in the newspaper,” the lawyer said very calmly, “and it never has been published.” The proposed ordinance appeared the following week in The Zebulon Record.

Who can forget little Johnny Pace, beloved mascot of the Zebulon newspaper? At one time, Philip Morris cigarettes were advertised on radio and television with a midget dressed as a hotel bellboy who called: “Call for Philip Morris!” The cigarette company held a contest to choose the person most like its advertising icon. The winner was Johnny Pace.

Johnny voluntarily took the position of mascot for the newspaper. He reported for duty early in the morning and remained all day. When the fire whistle blew, Johnny was first in a reporter’s car waiting to chase the fire truck wherever it went. He loved the excitement, and, as everybody in town came to know him, Johnny was loved by everybody.

Margaret Todd will never be forgotten. She loved Wendell, and she was really dedicated to the Wendell athletic teams. You knew when Margaret was present at a football, basketball, or baseball game played by Wendell teams, because you could hear her cheering over all the other fans. When Wendell played Wakelon in the Wakelon gymnasium, the walls would reverberate with Margaret’s raucous shouts boosting Wendell. Wakelon fans hated her.

But Margaret had a big, generous heart. She’d do everything she could to help anyone in need. She was a gifted pianist, and she shared her talent. At one time, she played for early mass at St. Eugene’s Catholic Church, then drove about six blocks to play for the 11 o’clock worship at the Christian Church. It was fun knowing her.

Old time baseball fans remember little Willard Gill, who at various times operated a pool room and a bowling alley in Zebulon. He was home plate umpire for Tobacco State League baseball games, and it was delightful to see him stare down Big John Polanski, the Wake Forest College fullback, who stayed in condition through the summer months playing outfield for the Zebulon semi-pro team.

By the way, Big John held the season-long record for scoring the most home runs and suffering the most strike-outs of any player in the league.

Finally, let’s get to politics. Arthur Ferrell lived north of Zebulon on N.C. 96. He was out-spoken in his opinion of politicians, and frequently quoted the Lord as saying there were none in the world but “sinners and ’Publicans.” At that time, in the late 1940s, Mr. Ferrell was one of the few ’Publicans in Wake County, and he took great pride in distinguishing himself from Democrats.

History is great, but memories are greater! History is what it is, but memories can be modified however desired to make them interesting and enjoyable.