Day Two Sunday, July 12, 2026
I was up early this morning. Rarely, rarely am I not up early. My body’s internal clock must be locked to civil twilight.
Initially, I didn’t see the sunrise. I saw the power of its early predawn light casting shades of orange and pink into scattered clouds.
Over the next fifteen minutes, the sun kept slowly rising, and gradually, the familiar orange ball peered over the Atlantic Ocean.
As the sun is waking, I do some exploring on the beach.
I notice the lightweight pattern of a bird’s feet or a crab’s scrabble leaving an imprint on the sand.
With help of the wind, in some sections, the sand is shaped and rippled.
And there is nothing better than discovering a protected location for a sea turtle nest.
Since our rental house was close to the center of Surf City, I opted to go for a run—a run that would take me across the massive Surf City Bridge.
I don’t know how much longer my old body will take me out for a morning run, but I secretly hope— forever.
In working my way toward the bridge, the road is flat and straight as it parallels the beach front. Earlier this morning, our son had run across the bridge. He gave me a few pointers for accessing it.
Careful to abide by pedestrian crosswalks, and early morning traffic merging into the roundabout, I found my way to the bridge.
The flatness of the road surface disappeared. Eventually, my legs were working me up an incline were the arch of the bridge construction peaks. This incline is gradual as the bridge sits 65 feet above the water.
Planners were thoughtful with the design. The bridge not only features stunning views of the tidal areas along the Intracoastal Waterway, but a bike lane and a wide walkway for walkers and runners.
I have ample room to run, but I am mindful of other runners, walkers, and bicycle riders. We all appear to be mindful of each other.
The view no matter where I look is remarkable.
I can only begin to imagine what accessing the island was like before any type of bridge was in place. My guess is that Topsail Island enjoyed its solitude.
I know this—I will cherish this 36:59 run for many years.
By midday, our oldest daughter and her family had arrived. Unfortunately due to work commitments, our son-in-law would only be with us until Wednesday.
The energy level in the house picked up as our four grandchildren enjoyed their beach time and an assortment in-house activities.
In the pre-trip planning, a meal schedule was worked out. Culinary skills would be showcased and tested, but this was no Food Network contest. Nope, just an opportunity to feed twelve hungry beach lovers at the end of the day.
After dinner, the four cousins converge on the deck. They watch storm clouds starting to roll in over the ocean.
My mind thinks back to our ride through the tiny coastal plain communities we saw yesterday. That apparent poverty is such a contrast to the real estate wealth on the island.
We design and build a $54 million dollar bridge, but we appear to be incapable solving our poverty in America.
Why is that?
If we have the will to build a $54 million dollar bridge, shouldn’t we have the will to solve poverty?
More importantly, what am I doing with my will toward helping to solve that poverty?
might be baloney 