Chris Berendt/Sampson Independent
Rubble can be seen where Tar Heel Motel’s front office used to stand. The motel, a locally-owned family business for half a century, closed its doors for good last year and is being demolished due to economic conditions that have seen it losing money.
Chris Berendt/Sampson Independent
The shell of the front left portion of Tar Heel Motel was still standing this week, to be torn down. There are currently no substantive future plans for the property, which served as site to one of the busiest motels in its heyday.
The razing of Tar Heel Motel is leaving a void in the Clinton cityscape, a proud family business that fell victim to economic factors and chose to go out on its own rather than deteriorate.
A local business for about half a century, Tar Heel Motel closed its doors toward the end of last summer and has been the site of demolition in recent weeks. The motel, located at 1801 Southeast Blvd. next to Waffle Kitchen and Dairy Queen, was in operation since roughly 1960, having once been the main motel for those looking for local lodging.
Back in those days, the motel was regularly packed and enjoyed good business. That changed in recent years, with other newer hotels, inns and motels popping up in the area and mounting expenses that made running the motel less feasible.
“Back in its earlier day, Tar Heel Motel was the newest and biggest motel in Sampson County,” said William “Bill” Peterson Jr., owner of the property and the motel his family started. “It was something Sampson County needed.”
Now, people favor increased security, and they believe that comes with a motel that has some external access or electronic key entry, Peterson said. Families shied away from Tar Heel in favor of other motels whose rooms were not exposed.
“We don’t get that many tourists,” he said. “Outside access hotels are pretty much a thing of the past unless you’re on a mountainside. They’re dinosaurs. They’re not in demand.”
Instead, most of the main clients in recent years had been contractors, who enjoyed the idea of backing their trucks into spaces near their rooms. For the last few years, the motel served strictly as extended stay rentals. Peterson pointed to Fibrowatt, the poultry litter plant that has been in a holding pattern for years, saying that construction of that facility might have kept the motel afloat for a couple more years — but it would have been a temporary solution.
“Between property tax, insurance and utilities, it’s losing money,” said Peterson, who also noted a 3 percent occupancy tax implemented locally several years ago as another straw on Tar Heel’s back. “You can only run it so long at a loss. We also didn’t want it to become like some properties in Fayetteville, where it’s a flop house or a drug house. It was just a combination of things. They all started adding up.”
Peterson explored several avenues to keep the motel going, including possibly converting it to elderly housing. While many requirements for the switch could be made, installing washer/dryer connections in each room could not be done.
“That stopped that,” said Peterson. “What we thought would be a good option, building codes killed us.”
Peterson already knew it could not function as it did for decades before.
“It couldn’t service as a motel,” he said. “This is the same thing happening around the country and something has to change or it’s going to keep happening.”
It was hoped that demolition would be done before the end of last year, but that was not the case.
“I would’ve rather seen this come down quiet and swift,” Peterson said, “like an old Navy ship that sinks at sea.”
Roseboro resident Geranium Lugo can tell detailed stories from her time as an employee at Tar Heel Motel that bring laughter and tears, or make jaws drop and faces blush. She said she loved working at the motel each and every day, something she did for more than a decade.
“This business held bittersweet memories for me, as I worked there from 1980 until I retired in 1993,” said Lugo, who was known as Gerri Rivera at the time. “I enjoyed going to work every day because there would be new people to meet and new experiences. The years I worked at Tar Heel Motel we were known as the best motel in miles around.”
Back then, it was Peterson’s parents, William and Jean Peterson, who were the owners and Lugo said they worked hard to make it successful, with Jean serving as the boss and William Peterson doing the yard work and general maintenance as needed at the motel.
Lugo said she worked with Mable Matthews, Mary Jane Heath and others. She recalled her first day on the job as a “disaster.”
William Peterson was training her to use the old switchboard, by which outside phone calls could be patched through to rooms at the motel by plugging a line into a specific room number.
“Someone’s wife in Room 137 called for him and I accidentally plugged into Room 138. A young lady with the sweetest voice said ‘hello,’” Lugo recalled. “The phone went dead on the other end and I knew I was in trouble. I told William what happened and he said ‘when the man comes in, I’ll explain what happened.’ When the man returned to his room, William called him into the office and told him what happened. He went ballistic. He said she will never understand. She would not answer her phone for three days.”
“I began to see right away there was going to be a lot of excitement to this job,” she said. “You learn a lot working at a motel.”
The employees imposed a code of silence to much of what went on in the motel. On numerous occasions, William Peterson would come back to the front office shaking his head only to say, “I have never seen anything like this before,” relaying another story about what was happening within the walls of the motel.
“If only the walls could talk, what a tale they could tell,” said Lugo. “The walls are silent now and they will forever keep their secrets, except for the few I know.”
One story she shared was not merely about someone who stayed at the motel, but about a deeper connection made because of the people who work there.
One weekend, Lugo was working and a long-haired, bearded man entered the front office with his wife and children. When he registered, Lugo saw he was from Maryland and asked what brought him to Clinton.
“He said, ‘I’m here to find the soldier who saved my life in Vietnam,” Lugo recalled. “I have cancer and only have a few more months to live. It is very important for me to find him and thank him before I die. I told him I would help him find him.”
She asked the man who it was, but the bearded man only knew a last name and that he was from Clinton. He gave Lugo the last name and, when he and his family went to their room, she began to search to find the man. The first person she called was an older woman, who was surprised to hear Lugo’s question on the other line.
“(She) told me her son was in Vietnam. It happened to be the mother of the soldier,” said Lugo. “The guest in the motel made contact and they met and had lunch. Before leaving, the guest called me and thanked me and said ‘now I can die in peace.’”
Lugo said there were numerous personalities that came into the motel, from foreign dignitaries and state politicians to celebrities. She said the most gracious of the politicians was Gov. Terry Sanford, who she said “so down to earth and so very kind.”
Peterson recalled when Chubby Checker stayed at the motel, and the time Ed McMahon parked his boat on the property. They are just a couple of the many who have contributed to the storied past of Tar Heel Motel, whose chapter is coming to an end.
“There are a lot of people that have stayed there over the years and they can’t believe it’s going away,” said Peterson. “There are a lot of people that have worked there, and we have missed them after they left. We would like to thank all our former guests and former employees for staying with us during the time we were open.”
“You hate to tear down something your family built,” he said, “but you also don’t want it to become a public nuisance.”
He said there are no substantive plans for the property, but did not rule out future development — although said the economy would prevent another motel for the foreseeable future.
“You can’t just tear down 63 rooms and put up a brand new one,” he said, “not with the economy the way it is.”
Even though the motel is coming down, Lugo said her memories of it will stay with her long after the debris is cleared away. Some of those stories and memories will never be shared, a rich part of Lugo’s life that will remain her very own.
“There are other stories that will be best never to tell,” she said. “The secrets of the walls of Tar Heel Motel will always remain a secret when the walls come tumbling down.”
Chris Berendt can be reached at 910-592-8137 ext. 121 or via email at sicrime@heartlandpublications.com.
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