The Eighteenth Amendment to the United States Constitution was ratified on January 16, 1920. The amendment reads, in part, “After one year from the ratification of this article the manufacture, sale, or transportation of intoxicating liquors within, the importation thereof into, or the exportation thereof from the United States and all the territory subject to the jurisdiction thereof for beverage purposes is hereby prohibited.”

After nearly thirteen years, the 18th Amendment was repealed by the ratification of the 21st Amendment, on December 5, 1933.

Prohibition against the sale of alcoholic beverages resulted in widespread bootlegging and rum running. From the very beginning, all manner of vessels were employed for smuggling alcoholic beverages from the French islands in Newfoundland, Canada, the Bahamas, and Mexico to coastal cities and towns in the United States.

The Outer Banks, in a strategic position on the east coast, saw its share of rum running.

On August 13, 1921, lookouts at the Portsmouth Island and Ocracoke Coast Guard Stations spotted a two-masted British schooner, the Messenger of Peace, hailing from Nassau, ashore on the north side of Ocracoke inlet. Both stations sent boats to offer assistance.

The ship’s captain reported that he had been seeking a port where he could obtain fresh water. Coast Guard personnel brought three barrels of water, and, after one failed attempt to free the vessel, they were successful in refloating the schooner in the early morning hours of August 14.

Within 24 hours a heavy blow once again forced the Messenger of Peace ashore. She was refloated at 3 p.m. However, remarks by some of the crew led Coast Guard officers to suspect she had been engaged in smuggling liquor into the United States. A search revealed no contraband, or so it was reported, and the vessel was released.

Four months later, at 4 p.m. on December 30, 1921, the lookout in the Portsmouth Island Coast Guard Station reported that a schooner had run ashore on the south side of Ocracoke Inlet.

It was the Messenger of Peace. The vessel was again refloated and boarded. Using the same explanation that he had offered in August, the Captain claimed that he was seeking a port where he could obtain food, water, and fuel (the schooner had been fitted with a 45 hp engine).

It turned out that the schooner was loaded with more than 1,000 cases of illegal liquor worth $100,000. The schooner and her crew were seized, and officials of the state Prohibition Commissions in Raleigh and Wilmington were notified, but not before Portsmouth islanders had an opportunity to partake of her bounty.

The Messenger of Peace had a colorful history. According to Robert Carse in his book, Rum Row, “Even a member of the clergy felt the call to fortune. The Reverend Mr. Dunn, who had worked long years at the propagation of the gospel through the Out Islands [in the Bahamas], resigned to become the master of [the] rum runner, [Messenger of Peace].”

Official reports of the seizure of the rum runner at Ocracoke Inlet neglected to include Portsmouth islanders’ enthusiastic reception of the stranded vessel. According to James E. White, III, in his book, Paradise Lost, an Oral History of Portsmouth Island, the Messenger of Peace was “full of rum and whiskey. The people on Portsmouth got that booze and divided it up.”

Carse relates that when the Messenger of Peace arrived at Ocracoke Inlet the captain “slid two cases of whiskey soundlessly over the stern for the crew of the Coast Guard patrol boat that pulled his craft clear into the channel. The county sheriff, however, …arrested the captain….” When he was released, Carse notes, it was with “the best wishes of the sheriff and shouts to return soon from the citizens.”

In 1969 Julian Gilgo recorded an interview with his grandmother, Mattie Gilgo (1885-1976). She was 36 years old when the rum runner ran ashore, and she remembered it with considerable amusement.

Speaking about the Messenger of Peace, Mattie Gilgo says, “Blessed Lord, she was nothing but whiskey, beer and wine. She come right on [chuckle] right on up almost to the [Life-Saving] Station dock [chuckle], that she did [chuckle]. Henry [Pigott] and Joe Roberts had it stacked up. He sold it. Henry, black Henry, were on his right legs [wasn’t drunk]. They made him a millionaire [chuckle] I mind [might] as well say. The money they paid him…God only knows.”

Mattie Gilgo’s son, Cecil (1912-1995), in a conversation with Ellen Cloud, recollected that Coast Guard officers became suspicious when they noticed the hatches on the Messenger of Peace were all sealed. When the captain and crew were taken ashore, three Coast Guardsmen were put on board. Cecil Gilgo explains that they opened the hatches. Soon, “word got out that it was whiskey,” and “they had a lot of visitors that night.”

When asked why the Messenger of Peace came into Portsmouth, Mattie Gilgo explains: “Why, Mac, Charlie Mac [Charles McWilliams], he got word to ‘em some way or the other, to bring it…bring some in. He and Wash [Washington Roberts] [chuckle],…when he got in there, the Captain went up to John Wallace’s, to have supper on the other end of the island [chuckle, chuckle]. The men went aboard and took charge of [chuckle] his whiskey [chuckle]. Lord, it was buried everywhere. It was buried in the hills, on the beach [chuckle], and I reckon there’s some there today. Some of it washed out by storms and tides, ‘cause some of it they couldn’t find. They had buried it [chuckle] but couldn’t find where they buried it. Abner, he had it buried in the wood house. He took the floor up and buried it under [chuckle] the house.”

Miss Gilgo continues with a degree of irony: “I reckon they all got drunk. There was Wash…now I don’t know ‘bout Captain Leonard [Williams]. I wouldn’t say if Mr. Leonard got drunk or not. There was Wash and Walter Yeomans [Officer in Charge, Portsmouth Coast Guard Station], you know he didn’t [chuckle] touch any of it, he’s a Harker’s Islander….”

Cecil Gigo echoes Mattie Gilgo’s recollections, saying “there were more drunks on Portsmouth then than there ever was at one place at one time.” In addition to native islanders, a group of hunters who were staying at Tom Bragg’s club house, learned of the illegal whiskey. By the time the revenuers arrived, “half the whiskey [was] gone.”

Mattie Gilgo laughs when she recollects those days: “Lord have mercy, why he [the ship’s Captain] stayed around Portsmouth. Walked around with his hands in his pockets…Let’s see now, what was his name? The boat’s name was the Message [Messenger] of Peace…that was the boat’s name….he [the captain] was a foreigner, he was not our nationality. I don’t remember what become of the crew.” According to Cecil Gilgo, the captain was eventually tried in New Bern, and sent to prison, but the Portsmouth islanders, thanks to the influence of the wealthy hunters, were released.

The 1920s were exciting times for Outer Bankers!

In 1923 another prohibition-era rum runner ran aground near Harker’s Island. The story of the misadventures of the Adventure is celebrated in the song “The Booze Yacht” (sung to the tune of “The Sidewalks of New York”), written by Ralph Sanders, and popularized by Ivey Scott. (The ”Beehive” was Cleveland Davis’ general store.) The song could have been written about the Messenger of Peace.

Down around the “Beehive,” Harker’s Island retreat,
Every night and morning the fishermen would meet.
One day there came a rounder; came running by the door,
Said, “Boys, let’s go to Cape Lookout;
There’s a Booze Yacht run ashore.”

This way, that way, to the Cape they’d run.
The coming of the Adventure, put the fishing on the bum.
Some lost their religion and back-slid by the score,
The “King Lock” stoppers they stood waist high
When the Booze Yacht run ashore.

Times have changed since those days.
When some were up in their “Gs”.
Others, they are down and out, but most feel just like me.
Some would give a hundred, and some a little bit more,
To see another time like that
When the Booze Yacht run ashore.

This way, that way, to the Cape they’d run.
The coming of the Adventure, put the fishing on the bum.
Some lost their religion and back-slid by the score,
The “King Lock” stoppers they stood waist high
When the Booze Yacht run ashore.

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Story & Photos by Crystal Canterbury (Click here for Part I)

In 1894 a United States Life Saving Station (U.S.L.S.S.) was established on Portsmouth and became an important part of the community for the next 43 years. The U.S.L.S.S. is one of the buildings that can be explored, and inside you’ll be able to see the Crew’s quarters, rescue boats, rescue cart, and lookout tower. Philip Howard explained whoever was on lookout duty stayed in the tower for two-hour shifts, and was not allowed any distractions, not even a book. An unnamed Surfman described life at the Station by saying, “…it is hours and hours and weeks upon end of excruciating boredom interrupted occasionally by a few minutes of sheer terror!”

Located in the large room displaying two rescue boats, you’ll also see the rescue cart, as well as a detailed discription and large drawing of how the surfmen would save sailors from wrecks. The rescue cart weights about 1,000 pounds and looks like an over-sized wheelbarrow.

The Beach Cart:

Philip asked us how we thought the cart was taken to the beach. I thought to myself, “Wild horses, of course.” That seemed like a reasonable guess considering how many wild ponies once roamed the Outer Banks, but I was completely wrong. The crew, ranging in number from six to eight men, transported the cart and supplies to the beach through extreme and harsh weather conditions.

Rope, a breeches buoy (a life-ring with attached shorts), a small cannon-like piece of equipment  called a Lyle gun (used to shoot rope to the distressed vessel), a sand anchor, and two large wooden poles called a “crotch” were kept in the cart. The sand anchor was placed on the ground to keep the crotch steady and upright, and once the Lyle gun had successfully gotten rope and the breeches buoy to the sailors, the surfmen began bringing them to shore one at a time. The crotch was designed to keep the sailor in the breeches buoy above the water to prevent drowning. On the shore, four or five surfmen would stand behind the crotch and pull the sailor in the breeches buoy to the shore, while the other two or three surfmen kept the rope circulating to the wrecked vessel.Once the rescue was complete, the surfmen packed everything back into the cart and pushed it back to the station.

The Breeches Buoy:

Beginning in 1894 and continuing for the next twenty-three years, the U.S.L.S.S. on Portsmouth operated from August 1 through May 31. Beginning 1917, the station was used year-round until it was placed out of commission on June 1, 1937.

Once exiting the Life Saving Station, we went to the left, walking along a dirt and sand trail that goes through a maritime forest. This trail eventually ends at the beach and along the way visitors will pass (and maybe even use) a compost restroom. Considering the remoteness of Portsmouth, said compost restroom really isn’t too bad. There are two stalls, both having toilet paper and hand santizer. Let’s be honest…it could worse…a lot worse.

Anyway, we were unable to venture to the beach on this trip, but not because of a lack of time or desire. The beach and mudflats had been flooded due to rain and also wind pushing the surf up, so we opted to stay on drier ground. Tucked back on another trail, which is connected to, but more narrow, than the one leading to the beach, is a Sea Captain’s Cemetery. The quarter-mile walk ends at a small clearing where two headstones are placed, and date back to the early 1800’s. You’ll see signs directing you to the beach, and then one labeling the quarter-mile stretch to the Captain’s graves.

Seamen’s Graves:

The Lionel and Emma Gilgo House (built circa 1926) was our next stop. Inside the grayish-blue cottage are photos of the Portsmouth families and their family trees. Some of the photos displayed were of residents who had gathered on another’s front porch. The people who lived in the small village would gather as family and friends, often playing music, as made evident by the photos. I asked Philip about what instruments were used to entertain. He said guitar, violin, and parlor organ most likely, plus possibly someone playing harmonica and triangle were used by the villagers to create music.

One notable and unexpected photo displayed in this home is one of Franklin Delano Roosevelt. In 1915 the thirty-three-year-old Assistant Secretary of the Navy was on Portsmouth Island for a visit. In the photo, the man wearing a black suit in the oxcart is Mr. Roosevelt. The photo was taken six years before he began experiencing symptoms from contracting polio.

President Roosevelt:

As we gradually made our back to the starting point, Philip showed us the Harry and Lida Dixon House (no date available) and Jesse and Lillian Babb House, which had been built around 1916. If you face the UMC, both yellow cottages are to the right and can be explored. The rooms are small, the doorways fairly narrow, and the ceilings low. In what would’ve been the living room in the Dixon House, a wood-burning stove is in place, and in the kitchen a well-water pump is still attached near the sink. This home also has a small room attached to its left side that looks like it was just kind of plopped down next to the main part of the house. We also got to look through the windows of the Ed, Nora, and Elma Dixon House (built circa 1910), located in the same open area as the previously mentioned homes.

The Washington Roberts House, which is across the lane from the three homes previously listed, is different from all the other homes in village for a couple reasons. To start, it has high ceilings and fairly big rooms. Its unique construction, which has allowed it to be one of the oldest standing homes not just on Portsmouth, but also on the Outer Banks, also makes it stand out. Built in 1840, the home has been dubbed the “Hurricane House” or “Storm House” because it was able to withstand high winds. During severe weather other Portsmouth residents would stay at the Washington Roberts House because it was such a sturdy structure.

The Washington Roberts House:

By now, we were all hungry. Some other people on the tour had gone to eat after visiting the Captain’s Graves, so after exploring for a bit longer, the rest of us were ready to unpack our lunches left at the Theodore and Anne Salter House. As we meandered away from the Washington Roberts House, which was to our left, we passed the UMC to our right, and went over the small wooden bridges. We again saw the George and Patsy Dixon House to our left, the schoolhouse and Cecil and Leona Gilgo House (off to our far left), and the Post Office before arriving at our starting point.

Once we were done eating, we still had time to venture out and do some last minute exploring. Behind the Theodore and Anne Salter House is the Jody Styron and Tom Bragg House (built circa 1927). The large home has a big “driveway” leading up to the property, which was quite muddy the day of our visit. A large tree has grown in the area immediately leading up to the covered porch, almost perfectly centered in front of the home. Going back toward the Post Office and down the lane to the left of the Walker and Sarah Styron House, more remnants of homes and cisterns can be seen. As I tried to capture some more photos, my camera’s battery was fully drained of power, so my camera shut off (insert sad face here: L). At this juncture (woe is me!!! I was being dramatic… to myself), I had no choice but to rely on my cell phone’s camera to shoot just a few more photos.

Just before 3 o’clock that afternoon, Donald Austin arrived at the dock. On our return trip I sat as close as I could to Austin, making sure to avoid any water that could spray up. Just as on our way to Portsmouth, Austin slowed the boat to tell us some interesting factoids. As we approached Silver Lake Harbor, he showed us the wreck of a shrimp trawler, part of which can be seen poking out of the water, and the story of how it got there. He also pointed out how the lamp-room and balcony of Ocracoke’s Lighthouse are off-centered depending on where you are when you observe it. He said this is due to the way the winding staircase and hatches at the top were designed and subsequently constructed. So the next time you’re visiting Ocracoke, check out the lighthouse from various locations. You’ll definitely see what Donald Austin is talking about. Or take a tour with Donald or one of the other Austins. If they’re like Donald, and I’m figuring they are, you’re going to have a fun, entertaining, and enlightening boat ride.

For more about Portsmouth Island, visit the Friends of Portsmouth Island Facebook page and/or check out the Cape Lookout National Seashore website.

For more about Portsmouth Island, visit www.portsmouthnc.com. You’ll get all the necessary information required to contact the Austins.

I feel it’s right to mention and thank Philip Howard because he helped me with this article. I had neglected to record some of the names of equipment used by the U.S.L.S.S., as well as musical instruments used by the residents.

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Story & Photos by Crystal Canterbury

Over the past four years that I’ve lived on Ocracoke, events – some planned, some not – motivated me to explore and learn more about the island, many times through listening to locals tell stories and reading about local history. Other times it’s been done through walking my dogs and observing and listening to my surroundings.

South Point and the route to it from ORV Ramp 72 is one of those walks, and if you go all the way, as far as you can go, you’ll see Ocracoke Inlet. Inlets are neat all on their own, but across the Ocracoke Inlet, where the Atlantic Ocean and Pamlico Sound meet, sits Portsmouth Island, once home to a flourishing shipping-turned-fishing village.

Portsmouth Island is the northern-most part of the Cape Lookout National Seashore and, similarly to Ocracoke (I say “similarly” because there is an airport here), is only accessible by boat. If you go to the right, beyond where vehicles are permitted at South Point, you can see Ocracoke Village to your front-right and a few buildings of Portsmouth Village to your front-left. The steeple of Portsmouth’s United Methodist Church can be seen above the old cedar and juniper trees, and you can also faintly spot the Henry Pigott house, sitting very near the Pamlico Sound. I became more and more curious about (maybe even slightly obsessed with?) the remote island and uninhabited village every time I walked to South Point. By sheer luck, local Amy Howard came into Ocracoke’s Visitor Center, where I work, the weekend before New Year’s Eve. She mentioned an excursion to Portsmouth was being planned, and I went into full-on “OMG!” mode, expressing my desire to join the group.

On New Year’s Eve a group of ten of people met at what is known, according to local historian Philip Howard (Amy’s father), as “Jack Willis’” dock, which is located next to Ocracoke’s Working Watermen’s Exhibit (in the former “Jack’s Store”) in the Community Square. Captain Donald Austin, of the Austin Boat Tours who frequently take people to Portsmouth, had us loaded in the skiff and ready to go by 10 o’clock. On the trip over, Captain Austin slowed the boat a few times, offering neat tidbits of Ocracoke and Portsmouth history. Austin speaks with the distinctive Ocracoke Brogue, which added even more charm to the trip. Once we had cleared Silver Lake Harbor, Donald sped up the boat. I thought it’d be brilliant to sit at the front of the skiff because I wanted a good view. The view was great from where I was sitting for sure, but I quickly learned that spot was prime Sound-spray seating, but not because of any fault of the Captain. The next time he slowed us down, I promptly put on my waterproof jacket. Lesson learned.

After about 20 minutes we arrived at the National Park Service docks at Portsmouth, and immediately noticed bunches of seashells that had been broken. Gulls have figured out that dropping clams onto a hard surface will break the shells, thus making mealtime a bit easier (the same thing can be seen on the roads, too). I’d never seen so many at eye-level, so I was absolutely tickled (it’s okay to call me a Northern Dingbatter because of my reaction). The dock, Philip Howard explained, was designed with gaps along the low side rails so the shells can be easily swept off the sides into the water.

Dock at Portsmouth Village:

Upon arriving at Portsmouth – after noticing the large amount of busted clamshells on the dock – you’ll realize there is a complete lack of usual sounds. No vehicle engines or horns, no barking dogs, no home heating/cooling unit fans spinning, no music, no man-made machinery. Even cell phones were quiet. You will, however, see salt marsh and water, cedar and juniper trees, hear bird chirps, and recognize the faint sound of tall grasses being moved by the wind. Since there are no paved roads or walkways, the dirt walkways-turned-mud (due to rain) will squish-squash under your feet. When combined with the aforementioned observations, you will realize that you are truly in a secluded, remote location.

One aspect of Portsmouth Island that we thankfully did not experience was the insects. Mosquitoes and greenhead horseflies are said to be brutal during the warm months, forcing people to wear mosquito netting or just hoping for the best. Park Service volunteers can stay in the village during the warm months, and are responsible for cleaning the buildings, mowing the grass, and opening the homes for visitors. The volunteer housing, marked as the “Summer Kitchen,” is directly in front of the United States Life Saving Station. A couple who were on this trip had stayed on Portsmouth for about six weeks, and after four years returned to the island. They said the mosquitoes could be dealt with; it was the greenhead horseflies that were horrible. But they also spoke about how unique of an experience it was to stay in the village. Both enjoyed doing their volunteer duties during the day, but they both expressed how nice it was to have an entire village to themselves in the evenings.

Our first stop was at the Theodore and Annie Salter House (built circa 1905), where a fantastic exhibit is located. Inside, visitors can read about Portsmouth’s history, and gather brochures and maps. There is also a “cancellation station” for those who carry National Park Service Passports, as well as paper for those who don’t have the Passport but want a stamp. One exhibit that caught my attention was about “Lightering.” When large ships carrying cargo couldn’t pass over shoals or navigate the channels, cargo was loaded onto smaller boats until the large ship was able to cross or until the goods needed to be moved. Portsmouth Village was established in 1753, and within 20 years was a thriving “lightering” village, providing warehouses and docks that enabled goods to be stored and then passed through the inlet.

Theodore and Annie Salter House:

In 1860 the population of Portsmouth village was 685, but when the Union Army made its way down to the Outer Banks in the first years of the American Civil War, many of Portsmouth’s residents moved to the mainland and never returned. The population decreased, and with “lightering” and shipping no longer being viable ways to earn money in the years after the Civil War, the villagers turned to fishing as their primary occupation.

Portsmouth Village Welcome Sign:

After we got ourselves situated and oriented, our guide, Philip Howard, next took us to the Post Office. The Post Office was used for more than sending and receiving mail; it served as a general store, selling goods to the residents that the island could not provide. The rectangular building was constructed around 1900, and became a gathering place when residents came to pick up their mail. Inside, one long counter was designed for mail drop-off and delivery, with one half being set up with food cases and displays. Behind the counter were shelves where canned goods were stored, and on the other side there was a small amount of room for people to mingle. This same space is where you can see the mail cart. Alfred Dixon, and later on his son Carl, brought the mail from Ocracoke and Morehead City by boat, then loaded it into a wheelbarrow and rolled the deliveries to the Post Office.

Portsmouth Post Office:

Following our visit to the Post Office, we took the muddy, puddle-filled road to the one-room schoolhouse. As we approached the schoolhouse, we passed the Cecil and Leona Gilgo House (circa 1905) on our left. Philip told us his grandfather was stationed on Portsmouth Island with the United States Coast Guard from 1913-1917. Philip’s father, Lawton Howard (born in 1911), had memories of being on Portsmouth near the Cecil and Leona Gilgo House as a young child.

Portsmouth Life Saving Station:

The schoolhouse is a small building, housing about nine student desks and one teacher desk. The blackboard stretched almost the entire length of the wall behind the teacher’s desk, and atlases of the world’s continents were displayed throughout the school. Also on display are student lists and photographs. The backside of the school faces the road, so you have to walk around the building to access the front door.

Portsmouth School:

Just beyond the schoolhouse and schoolyard is a trail. The half-mile trail will take you to a now-open field where the Maritime Hospital, a facility with personnel to treat sick and injured captains and sailors, once stood. All that is left of the hospital is a cistern.

Military Hospital Cistern:

After exploring the schoolhouse, we retraced our steps and made our way toward the Henry Pigott House. The Theodore and Anne Salter House was seen to our left, along with the Walker and Sarah Styron House (circa 1850), as we meandered down the road.  The Henry Pigott House, which can be seen from Ocracoke’s southern end, sits next to a canal, with the Pamlico Sound to the rear. The yellow home with white trim is surrounded by a white-picket fence, has a sizeable shed, and a double-seater outhouse (other homes may have also had double-seater outhouses, but the one at this home was able to be opened). Henry Pigott was the last male resident of the village. As Henry’s health declined, Captain Donald Austin told us (on our return trip to Ocracoke) his family cared for Pigott, which Donald remembers. Henry Pigott died in 1971.

Henry Pigott’s House:

We back-peddled again and made our way toward the United Methodist Church. Once we passed the Post Office (on our right), the road curved slightly to the left. Two small wooden bridges led us to the church. On our right stood the George and Patsy Dixon House, built circa 1875. The home had an attached kitchen, but it was blown off due to a cyclone. When approaching the house from the Post Office, it looks as if it’s floating in the marsh (it did to me anyway), but once you continue toward the building it’s evident the house sits on dry land, with the marsh to its right.

Portsmouth Methodist Church:

The current Portsmouth United Methodist Church was built around 1914 and sits in an open, grassy area. The Pamlico Sound and salt marsh can be seen in the background, with the Henry Pigott House to the distant rear-left. The first church built in Portsmouth Village was destroyed in the storm of 1899. A second church was then erected, but was destroyed by the 1913 storm. Money to rebuild the church the third time was collected by Keeper Charlie McWilliams of the United States Life Saving Station on Portsmouth. In 1956 services at the church were discontinued. The church’s steeple can be spotted from the southern end of Ocracoke.

When we arrived at the Church, the sun was beginning to warm the air and the clouds were breaking up, making the walking tour even more enjoyable. The front door of the church has been boarded shut and wooden beams have been placed at the front sides of the building for support. Hurricane Sandy, which battered the East Coast in 2012, caused damage to the church, forcing the National Park Service to close the building to the public and put the wooden beams in place. Except for part of the steeple and its over-hanging sun-and-salt faded green eves, the long, rectangular church is white. The window glass, like the other buildings in the village, appears wavy, indicating it was made long ago.

After seeing the church I ventured off on my own for a bit, walking in the area behind the building toward the water. I saw some still-standing homes and discovered remnants of residences that once stood. Blocks of wood used to keep homes off the low-lying ground and crumbled chimneys were all that was left. I also saw a small fenced in cemetery behind the church, where Henry Pigott is buried. Beyond the homes is an open space, which leads to the salt marsh. From this vantage point you can look out over the Pamlico Sound and see the brilliant white tower of the Ocracoke Lighthouse off in the distance.

(This article originally appeared in the Ocracoke Current. Click here to read Part II.)

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