Ten years ago, I wrote an item on Curtis Sampson on the occasion of his 90th birthday. In 1947 Curtis had been the first employee of The Tides Inn, where he remained for 43 years. He did not retire, but went immediately into the world of antiques, opening a shop in an old house in the suburbs of Irvington. In that column I noted that 10 years later, Curtis would be able to advertise his business as “an antique selling antiques.”
The frame of reference was to the federal legislation of 1930, as amended in 1966, that defined an antique as an item that is at minimum 100 years old. A few years ago, Curtis closed his retail business, and began conducting quarterly sales from his home, and then he retired completely, but always thought that he might reopen. Last week, two weeks to the day before his 100th birthday, Curtis died, much beloved by everyone who knew him.
Curtis was the grandson of Jeremiah Dawson, a local carpenter who lived at Remo. Curtis attributed his long life to Jeremiah, not genetically, but because of an incident that occurred when he was seven years old. Jeremiah had taken him to a job site where he was building a house for a client.
Once there, Jeremiah broke off a piece of his tobacco slug, and said, “Here boy, try this.”
Curtis said he put it in his mouth, and immediately spat it out, adding that it was the most awful taste he ever experienced, and that thereafter he never touched any tobacco product.
Jeremiah worked by himself building houses. In 1904 he built a house for his family at Remo, and the following year he came down the road and built the house which has been our family home for over a half-century. Six years ago, Jeremiah’s own house was going to be demolished to make way for Habitat to build a new home. The Elder B.E. seized the moment and bought it for $1, after which we moved it to a piece of property we owned nearby.
When I told Curtis what we were doing, in his usual whimsical manner, he replied, “My grandfather only built one house, … but he built it 30 times.” Curtis grew up down the road from Remo at Mila. He put himself through Randolph-Macon College, where he was an honor student. He had a profound attachment to the Northern Neck and moved home as soon as he finished his schooling.
He was a man of multi-talents, a gifted artist, an extraordinary florist, a skilled craftsman as a builder and a furniture finisher and one of the most knowledgeable and proficient gardeners one could find. He took pride in everything that he did, unwilling to leave any aspect of a project incomplete.
He built a new home in Weems, the yard of which he turned into a spectacular garden display. He could define and describe every plant, all of which he arranged in defined patterns, paying attention to the nature of the plant and the harmony of colors that he wanted to achieve. He built winding pathways through the yard, establishing vistas near and far. Some plants he sculpted into designs, others he allowed to form their own shapes.
Garden statuary was critically important to Curtis, both as to its form and placement. Nothing in his garden was left to chance. In his yard everything had a plan, as indeed, it did in his life. He never wasted time, always using his extraordinary energy for a purpose. He wasted nothing, and he took delight in finding unexpected purposes and uses for whatever came his way.
Curtis did not make his centennial birthday, but he left a legacy and example of leading a good and productive life every day, regardless of one’s age or circumstances. In that process, he inspired and befriended many folks along the way.
Curtis Lester Sampson, May 5, 1924 – April 21, 2024. R.I.P.
