Nell Myrtle Pridgen ~ 1918-1992

"In July 1992, at age 74, Nellie Myrtle Pridgen took her last breath of salt air. Although she passed  away in mid-summer, Nell's private, invitation-only sunrise service was held well after the million t  ourists had driven past the grocery for the last time and gone home.

The engraved invitations simply said: "Please join us for a Celebration of Life Memorial Service for   Nellie Myrtle Pridgen at seven o'clock in the morning Sunday, September 20, 1992, on her beach."

Carmen, who passed away in 2007, spent the night of Sept. 19 in the old grocery, surrounded by her mother's obsession. Thunder cracked and lightning lit up the skies. "She blew through here with the most violent thunderstorm I have ever seen," Carmen recalled.

The next day was Nell's kind of day, overcast and raw with a chopped-up sea.  As the sun squinted     over the horizon, 192 people moved softly over the dune  o Nell's beach, leaving the first footprints          In the sand. Billy Gray cradled the  box of ashes in the crook of his arm as he climbed over the sides      of a flat-bottomed dory. Carmen's childhood friend, Eddie Reber Jr., started the outboard and the men made  their way through the swells toward the point  where heaven meets the earth. When Billy released the beachcomber's ashes, there was no sound, save the slapping of the dory against the sea and the breakers on the beach.

The memory of what happened next still brings chills to those who were there.  A school of dolphin glided by, their glistening fins breaking the surface of the ocean. A line of pelicans swooped down, skimming the waves as if to salute  a kindred spirit.

Suddenly, skirts blew up and the congregation shielded their eyes from the blowing sand.                      A stiff nor'easter rushed in, hurrying the end of the service.

"It was over," Carmen said, rubbing her arms. "She was tired. It was finished." 

She was back in the sea.   Here