ShoeHeel — As the sun rises over this oddly-named crossroads community, folks begin gathering at the small general store for coffee, biscuits and conversation.

People start to roll in around 5:45 a.m., and most everybody stops by to share stories and hear the news about their neighbors.

“Coffee is a big thing around here,” said Donnie Creech, whose family has owned the store since 1915. “Long about the third pot, they have a tendency to stretch it a little. Their fish get bigger, their grass gets taller. They have a great time.”

Lifelong Shoeheel resident B. Creech, 85, said stopping at the store every morning was his main source of news. “You get better news here than in the Smithfield Herald,” he said, poking fun at a reporter.

Donnie Creech — considered the unofficial mayor of Shoeheel — offers much more than a place to gather, eat and buy essentials. He shares wisdom and stories of his own. One man stopped by for a pack of cigarettes and advice on how to catch a turtle, and Creech was happy to supply both.

But most outsiders who come into the store are curious about how Shoeheel— which is north of Micro and west of Kenly — got its name.

One legend has it that an earlier store on the site played host to dances. A whisky-drinking tenant farmer started attending with his jug, and, according to a 1965 Herald story, “the more he drank, the meaner he was.”

One night, the farmer made the mistake of demanding that the musicians play his favorite song. Someone grabbed a shoe that a young woman had accidentally left behind and struck the misbehaving man with the heel of it.

Word got around about the incident, and from then on, no one acted up at the dances for fear of the local weapon of choice — a shoe heel.

But these days, all the locals know each other and get along fine. When Hurricane Fran hit in 1996, everyone pitched in to clear the roads and shared generators and food.

“We didn’t need no FEMA,” said Donnie’s brother, Eddie Creech. “We had our neighbors, and we looked after one another. I got to see my neighbors three times in one day, and that was a real blessing.”

Tobacco fields still surround Shoeheel, but fewer and fewer of its residents farm for a living. Many have gone into construction work, and their businesses have been hit hard by the recession.

“They’re looking for jobs and not finding it,” Donnie Creech said. He makes life easier by letting his customers run tabs and pay up at the end of the month.

Although times are tough, few residents would ever consider moving away. And of those who did move away, many eventually returned. Most families have been in Shoeheel for generations, and many of the customers stopping by the store are relatives.

“It’s the people that makes the place,” Eddie Creech said. “I think it’s the love that everybody’s got for one another.”

Residents also stay because the community has changed little over the past 100 years. Miles from the main highways, Shoeheel hasn’t seen any of the growth that has come to other Johnston County communities.

Donnie Creech has the only store in the community. Churches are the other gathering places, and they host harvest sales each year. The sales and family reunions are the main events each year, and almost everyone attends, Creech said.

Eddie Creech once lived in the city, and there his neighbors called the police when he had a small argument with his wife over what to watch on TV. That wouldn’t happen in Shoeheel, he said.

“I tried the city one time, and being the country boy that I am, it didn’t last too long,” he said. “I’ve got everything I need right here. I wouldn’t live nowhere else.”